The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T.

No! No! Get away! Get away!

No! Go on away! Go on away!

Here, boy! Here! What's the matter?

Dr. Terwilliker. What happened?

What's going on around here? Dreaming again.

I can't leave the room for five minutes. What were you dreaming about this time?

I was being chased by a big bunch of men with nets.

Nets? Why can't you dream about practicing the piano?

I'll try.

If you don't practice, you'll never become a concert pianist.

Practice makes perfect. I'm trying to practice.

One month before I present my pupils in a grand concert.

And I'm not going to let one dreary little boy humiliate me. Do you understand?

I don't think the piano is my instrument.

What other instruments are there, pray tell?

Scratchy violins? Screechy piccolos?

Nauseating trumpets? Et cetera, et cetera!

- We'll make a Paderewski of you. - Who?

- Paderewski! - Oh!

Now I want you to practice and practice and practice...

until you are perfect!

Good day, young man.

Well, that's my problem.

Dr. Terwilliker's the only enemy I've got.

I can't think of one nice thing to say about him because there isn't any.

Bart, darling.

That's my mother. I like her.

I try to be everything she wants me to be,

particularly since my father died.

But, boy, she's as hipped on the piano as Dr. Terwilliker. Bart, darling.

Watch.

Is that as loud as you can play?

Now, now, sweetheart, not that loud.

And not that soft.

Bart, I hate to hound you.

I know you think I'm a mean slave driver,

but you really are missing the beats.

Listen, like Dr. Terwilliker says in the book:

That's better. Now you have it.

I'll get it! I'll get it!

- Bart, I'll get it. - I'll get it.

Hello. Oh, Peggy.

That's Bart you hear. Uh-huh. Still hates it like poison.

Sometimes I think that Dr. Terwilliker has my mother hypnotized.

Holy mackerel, I'll bet you that she...

That noise is my friend, Mr. Zabladowski, the plumber.

He knows all about the piano, but he's afraid to say so in front of my mother.

He thinks Dr. Terwilliker is a real racketeer.

A 100-percent, gold-plated phony.

Double phony.

Psst. Mr. Zabladowski.

Don't give me any more trouble. Your job is pianos. My job is sinks.

Tell me, is Dr. Terwilliker really a racketeer?

Did you tell him Dr. Terwilliker was a racketeer?

- Oh, I did not. - Keys, darling.

You may be the best plumber in town,

but when it comes to piano lessons,

I hardly think you qualify as an expert.

I'm not trying to qualify as anything.

You certainly aren't helping me maintain discipline.

It's not an easy thing to bring up a boy without a father.

I realize that. And maybe you're right.

Maybe even if he never learns to play the piano,

maybe the discipline's good for him anyway.

There are no maybes about it. I know what's good for him.

He's going to learn to play that piano if I have to keep him at that keyboard forever.

Forever?

Dr. Terwilliker says I gotta practice.

Practice makes perfect. Practice makes perfect.

Practice makes perfect.

Practice makes perfect.

Practice makes...

That's not bad. But not good.

That's still not loud enough, still not fast enough!

Rhythm's still off! Still misses the beats!

What? It takes time.

It takes years.

Sometimes it actually does take forever. What?

My watch tells me that's all we can hope to do today.

Tomorrow, however... Oh, tomorrow! What a day!

At 6:00 a.m. sharp, all the others will arrive. What others?

Well, I say, you don't think I built this great piano just for you?

Have you no concept that I am on the eve of my greatest triumph?

Tomorrow, I will fulfill the dream of my lifetime.

Tomorrow, the Terwilliker Institute...

my "happy finger" institute...

Tomorrow, we will celebrate the official grand opening!

Tomorrow, down below me I will have 500 little boys.

Five thousand little fingers.

And they'll be mine, all mine.

Practicing 24 hours a day,

365 days a year!

I don't believe it! This is crazy!

Who are you to tell me what is crazy? Away! Go back to your cell!

And put on your official Terwilliker beanie!

"Happy Fingers"?

Here! Uh-uh, uh-uh!

Sport! Sporty!

Practice makes perfect. Practice makes perfect.

Practice makes perfect. Practice makes perfect.

Practice makes perfect. Practice makes perfect. Practice makes perfect.

Practice makes perfect. Practice makes perfect.

Bartholomew Collins!

The years you spend with Dr. Terwilliker...

will be the happiest years of your life.

But if you get homesick, don't try to escape.

The barbed wire around the Terwilliker Institute...

is electrified!

Electrified! Electrified!

Mr. Zabladowski! Mr. Zabladowski!

Please, Bart, I'm a very busy plumber. What are you doing here?

What am I always doing? I'm putting in sinks.

For what? It's obvious.

Before Terwilliker can open this institute,

he's got to make the whole joint sanitary.

Got to have the proper sinkage for 500 kids.

That's my department. And that's your cell.

I gotta get outta here. Relax. Don't take these little things so seriously.

After all, seeing as how your mother's here... My mother's here?

That's a silly question. You know very well she's in the number two spot.

The number two spot? Second in charge of the whole "happy finger" racket.

My ma couldn't be mixed up in any racket.

Look, partner, I hate to speak badly about mothers.

After all, motherhood is the noblest institution in our land.

The fact remains that your ma is in the number two spot at headquarters right now.

She wouldn't keep me in a place like this. I gotta see her.

I wouldn't advise it. You'll never make it. I can try.

Well, I wouldn't try.

I know. All you'd ever try for is time and a half for overtime.

Terwilliker Institute. Collins speaking.

Yes, madame. The official grand opening is tomorrow morning.

Your son will be picked up by bus at 5:00 a.m. sharp.

Collins speaking. No, madame, most definitely not.

Your son will not be allowed to bring his baseball.

Dr. Terwilliker does not believe in baseballs, golf balls, basketballs or tennis balls,

Ping-Pong balls, snowballs, croquet balls or hockey pucks.

Dr. Terwilliker believes only in the piano.

See here, you beanie-makers.

This final batch just isn't up to snuff.

Take a look at those fingers.

Would you say they were happy fingers?

They should be gay, carefree, happy fingers.

Fix them, if you have to stay up all night.

Psst. Mom. Mom!

Mrs. Collins, why are you standing there...

with that null-and-void expression?

No, don't tell me!

I know the workings of your mind, Mrs. Collins.

You've been thinking of your son again!

How many times must I tell you to burn that picture?

You've room in your life but for one picture.

My picture, Mrs. Collins! Your future husband!

Have I not graciously condescended to take your hand in marriage tomorrow,

immediately following the official grand opening?

Sergeant Lunk reporting to headquarters.

Cell number one. The boy is not in it.

The boy is not in it? Well, search for him! Find him!

Yes, sir, Dr. Terwilliker, sir.

Your son. And you said he could be trusted.

Tonight of all nights, Mrs. Collins.

The very night before my institute opens,

and your son dares to flaunt my authority!

So he doesn't like the neat, clean, comfortable cell which I've given him, eh?

Very well! From now on, he doesn't have to sleep there!

From now on, Mrs. Collins, your boy sleeps in the dungeons!

Mrs. Collins, turn on searchlights number one to fifty, inclusive!

Pursuit Squadron A! Where in thunderation are you?

We're working north, sir,

from the barbed wire on the south side! Good, good.

Where's Pursuit Squadron B? We're working south, sir,

from the barbed wire on the north side.

Mrs. Collins, searchlights 50 to 90, inclusive!

Twin guards! Where are you?

Judson! Whitney!

We're down here, sir, searching the piano!

Idiots! The piano would be the last place he'd hide!

Search the alleys! Beat the bushes! Comb the turrets!

Shake the trees!

That boy might be anywhere.

He might even be in this building!

Mrs. Collins, light this building!

Pull manifold switch 902!

No, Sport! Sport, no! Go away! Go on!

Oh, fine.

Jeepers, am I glad to see you!

Get out of there. You scared the daylights out of me, Bart.

What are you doing? Simmer down, will you? What's up?

They're after me! Who?

Practically everybody. I'm not.

I'm in terrible trouble. So? Everyone gets into trouble.

Everyone in the world. The king of Persia sometimes even gets into trouble.

But the king of Persia, does he come crawling out of my air vent? Not at all.

The King of Persia, he stays in Persia.

But it's my ma! Dr. Terwilliker's got her!

You should see the things that go on!

I need your help! I need... Please, my heart bleeds for you,

but if I don't get these sinks installed in the cells, I don't get paid!

I don't get my money! You're not going to help me?