Palm Springs Weekend

[Eric dials his home phone number from a payphone rest stop]

Henry Blanchard:
[into the phone] Hello?

Eric Dean:
[into the phone] Oh, hello Mr. Blanchard. Is my father in?

Henry Blanchard:
He's not here. Your father and the "new" Mrs. Dean, number six, left from Reno two days ago on their sunny honeymoon to Acapulco, Mexico.

Eric Dean:
[groans] He went and did it again, huh? He didn't say if he was planning to stop in Palm Springs for a couple of days?

Henry Blanchard:
No, he didn't mention it.

Eric Dean:
He does know that I'm staying here and where to locate me?

Henry Blanchard:
Yes, yes, I told him twice as you requested.

Eric Dean:
Well, if he calls give him a message. Just tell him that, "Eric sends his regards".

Henry Blanchard:
Sure, I'll give him the message.

Eric Dean:
No, wait. Better make it "your son".

Henry Blanchard:
Your son?

Eric Dean:
Yes. If he calls, say: "your son sends his regards". "Eric" may not ring a bell.

[Eric angrily hangs up]

Eric Dean:
Well, now, is this where we slap leather, cowboy? Would you be satisfied with a few loose teeth?

Doug 'Stretch' Fortune:
I don't know where you was raised, mister, but where I come from, we don't start fights in other folks' homes.

Naomi Yates:
The only thing I ever put in my orange juice is gin.

Coach Fred Campbell:
Gin?

Naomi Yates:
Oh, uh, doctor's orders.

Coach Fred Campbell:
You have some kind of a condition?

Naomi Yates:
No, no. Me and my doctor just like to get drunk together.

Mike:
The trouble with me is I put women on a pedestal.

Biff Roberts:
Well, you gotta stop going out with short women. Ha-ha-ha. For instance, what happens when you talk to a girl about sex?

Mike:
I get the hiccups.

Police Chief Dixon:
Goodbye, darling. [Kisses his wife, Cora] I'll try to get home for dinner.

Cora Dixon:
Remember your blood pressure, dear.

Police Chief Dixon:
Don't panic, Cora. It's the beginning of a gay week. Ha-ha.

Naomi Yates:
Room 204. House rules are on the back of the closet door. But, I've got two special ones. Number one. You come in here with liquor on your breathe and I'll throw you out on your rudder. Number two. No cross-pollination with members of the opposite sex.

Gayle Lewis:
Hello.

Naomi Yates:
Oh, you're a young one.

Gayle Lewis:
I'm 21. Would you like to see my driver's license?

Naomi Yates:
Please, every Easter this town is filled with 21 year old teenagers. Did you come about the job or did you want a room?

Gayle Lewis:
I'd like a room please.

Naomi Yates:
I have one bed left in a double room. 12 dollars a day.

Gayle Lewis:
Oh.

Naomi Yates:
Too steep for you?

Gayle Lewis:
Well, do you have anything less expensive?

Naomi Yates:
I'm sorry.

Eric Dean:
George.

Waiter:
Yes, Mr. Dean.

Eric Dean:
We're thirsty, George. Bring us two specials.

Waiter:
I beg your pardon, Mr. Dean, but I have to ask the young lady for some identification.

Eric Dean:
Young lady, the jig's up. Identify yourself. Thought you could pull a fast one, huh?

Gayle Lewis:
Sir. [Hands Eric her wallet]

Eric Dean:
Alright George, take notes. This is Miss Gayle Lewis, 6150 Rexford Drive, Beverly Hills, California. Got that, George?

Waiter:
Yes sir.

Eric Dean:
She's 5 foot 2. Weighs 100 pounds. How 'bout that, George?

Waiter:
Very good, sir.

Eric Dean:
Very good? My dear man, that's perfect!

Bunny Dixon:
Do you think you could stay away from girls for seven years?

Jim Munroe:
I manage to have a few dates. One cannot ignore the biological urges, you know.

Bunny Dixon:
Would you want the girl you expect to marry to indulge in her biological urges, too?

Jim Munroe:
No.

Bunny Dixon:
In the meantime, you're not adverse to the experiences yourself.

Bunny Dixon:
Ruthie, how'd you ever get your Mom's okay?

Ruth Stewart:
I didn't. She and Dad went to Vegas for a few days. Now, look, there's beer and soft drinks in the kitchen. The bedrooms are off limits. And if you want to go in the pool, you're going to have to wear a suit.

Jim Munroe:
Darling, you didn't tell me this was going to be a formal affair.

Bunny Dixon:
But, of course.

Eric Dean:
I propose a toast! I drink to the Easter orphans. To all of us wicked little children banded together on the beaches and resorts from Florida to California to observe the rites of Spring. Here's to Sex, sand and suds. Enjoy them!