 Mr. Conklin, for another comedy episode of Our Miss Brooklyn's Transcribes, her own admission, Principal Osgood Conklin's astute leadership, has molded Madison High into a streamlined machine, which operates with the facile precision of a new car. But to Our Miss Brooklyn, who teaches English at Madison, it's the same old gelato. That's true. Mr. Conklin is the same old soft tire, and Mr. Boynham still needs his battery charged. But after full of astute leadership, last Tuesday, we solemnly and traditionally observed the birthday of Madison's beloved founder and first principal, Nadar Chris. The only Madison High Principal ever to be awarded a distinguished service track by the Board of Education. Of course, Mr. Conklin has longed in busking for a similar honor, but inasmuch as the Board has ignored him for low these many years, I was not prepared for the news with which my landlady, Mrs. Davis, visited me at breakfast. Colleen, I was just leaving the market a few minutes ago, and I saw Arthur Conklin pulling up in his car. He was grinning from ear to ear. What happened? Did he run over a teacher? No, he had something wonderful happened to him. He caught pneumonia? I'm serious, Colleen. Last night, he received a program from Mr. Stone, the head of the Board, informing him that they decided to award him a plaque for Distinguished Service to Madison High. You're kidding. No, it's true, and was he proud? Why, when he showed me the program, his chest was all puffed up. Fine, now to blend neatly with the rest of his anatomy. I heard you did your shopping so early this morning, Mrs. Davis. Well, I wanted to pick up some grocery for my sister Angela. A drug store didn't happen to her. It's a drug store yesterday, poor thing. Angela's got some mind of one in the family, you know. What happened to her? What happened to who, dear? You started to tell me what happened at the drug store to your sister Angela. She's the absent-minded one in your family. She's like me. Well, I just took you sick, Mrs. Davis. But, Mrs. Davis, something good will happen at the drug store. Friend, Connie. In the spring of 48. Now, what happened to Angela? Oh, her. She bumped her head on the pinball machine, and the girl called her amnesia. And her amnesia couldn't even remember her own name. Well, then the drug is sent for the police. Oh, she'll be turned to hysterical. She called in some offerings, Connie. So you realize, and she had amnesia, who forgave her for that, of course. Well, that's fine, but anyway, when her mouth snapped back to normal, she felt terribly embarrassed. You know what a shy sense of taste we don't know who Angela is. Yes, I do. But what caused your mind to snap back to normal? She bumped her head again, giving her the portrayal ride. That fucking girl on the hood often carries her amnesia, you know. I'm sorry, I ask. Oh, that's probably what you're doing, but glad you're the school. I'm going to put up some breakfast going today. All right, Mrs. Davis, come in, Walter. Dreamers are a queen of Madison's faculty. I died as a teacher for whom I have not but the highest regard. And I died as a student for whom I have not but the lowest mark. Look, now, ma'am, Mrs. Davis is getting your breakfast. Oh, splendid. In this book, I happened to pass Mr. Conklin's house last night. I didn't actually pass it. I dallyed there just long enough to let the air out of his fire. Yes, I could do. Well, it's easy. You just press the little valve down and... Well, it's an extradition, Mrs. Brooks. Yesterday, I accidentally broke a window in Mr. Conklin's office. And it made him so mad, he thought of me with a hand-leafed attention. So I decided to take out its value in trade, sort of. If I play a series of innocent little pranks on the old boy that are guaranteed to make his life utterly miserable. I'm afraid there's nothing you can do to prove Mr. Conklin out of the happy clouds today, Walter. Last night, he received a telegram from Mr. Stone informing him that the board has decided to award him a plaque for distinguished service. Oh, Mr. Stone didn't send that telegram? He didn't? Of course not. I did. Yeah, I consider that little beauty my size, Frank, Mrs. He's letting him up to an awful letdown, complaining rude. He thinks all day he'll be madly awaiting that silly plaque, and when he doesn't get it, so belly drop. You've gone much too far, Walter. When Mr. Conklin discovers what you've done, it's my guess that you'll be expelled from school. Also, how are you going to find out? Well, every criminal overlooks one little detail, Walter, and you're no exception. When Mr. Conklin dares to receive the silly plaque, it's only natural he'll investigate. First of all, he'll call the telegraph office, and the whole truth will come out. Holy cow! I've created a circus party! Because if I should be expelled while I say to my prop, oh, you've got to help me, Ms. Brooks. But you wouldn't want to see me get to your heave-hole, would you? No, I wouldn't, Walter. But my sympathies are also with Mr. Conklin in this matter. When I think of his fondest dream growing up in this silly phase... Your phase? ...positively cruel. It was... Hold it a second, Ms. Brooks. Hold it. I've got the old dude working. But so I've created a Frankenstein, okay? So now I've created a listing in which your help will play the monster in his lair. What's the lair, Bruce? Before the court this morning, you will drop him in Mr. Conklin's office and subtly remind him of the case of the former Madison principal and Mr. Hargo, who modestly declined the plaque from the board. Now, they deemed his gesture so noble that one year later, they gave Mr. Hargo not a little plaque, but a statue of himself, which is now ensconced in our auditorium. In other words, you want me to convince Mr. Conklin that if he should decline the plaque, he'll set himself in line for a statue. Exactly. But rather, he'll never get the statue. Nobody can dream, can he? Well, don't you realize that if I should stoop to such a deception, I'd be a traitor, not only to Mr. Conklin, but to the school as well. Well, you're a cooperator. Okay. It's what you're afraid of, y'all. The desperate skinner, sure. But it's a desperate situation. You have your own problems, I guess? What happens to me doesn't really matter. Oh, now, please, no tears. No, I forgive you, Mr. Conklin. If you want to let Mr. Conklin suffer to the point where my father beat the bear, I thought of me. I'll be expelled. Okay, so what? You just can't help me. Oh, now, please, Walter. That's wrong. You can't be a traitor. Who can? Dry your eyes and call me Benedict. You slept up in post school? Oh, yeah. She was in a hurry to get to your father's office. Oh, that's right. Certainly finding him in a wonderful mood. Daddy got a telegram last night, Walter, and you'll never guess what it said. And what are you bet? It was from Mr. Stone. The board has decided to give Daddy a crack for this evening's service. Yeah, sure. Oh, Walter, look at that. Oh, good morning, Denton. Mr. Stone, are you going to see Mr. Conklin, sir? No time for that now. Just stop by to say hello. And how are you, Harriet? Oh, I'm simply thrilled, Mr. Stone. Last night, when Daddy received your call, I was like... Harriet? Uh, telegram? For me, a telegram? Oh, well, that's my secretary sent us off about my knowledge after our meeting yesterday afternoon. It wasn't until five o'clock that we arrived at the petition. The petition, Mr. Stone? Yes. The board has decided to give Mr. Conklin a crack for this evening's service. I'm glad you opened my eyes, Mr. Stone. If Mr. Stone thinks he can brush me off with a silly plaque, he's had limitations. Especially, that's what I deserve. Oh, please, Mr. Donklin, I didn't mean to upset you. I'm grateful to you, my dear. What a fool I've been. The truth that I've been sitting here in sheer ecstasy, mentally sobering that cute little plaque. Crying the plaque, of course, modestly, and in the letter, as you have suggested. I'll get my personal stationery from my interoperate, Mr. Stone. Excuse me one moment. Take your time, Mr. Conklin. Mr. Stone, I've got to talk to you. What is it, Walder? Two telebelly drops again. Everything I said in that phony telegram turned out to be true. What? I just saw Mr. Stone and he told me the board has decided to give Mr. Conklin a plaque. But I've already talked Mr. Conklin into declining it. Then you've got to reverse course and talk him into accepting it. I went out in the hall for you, Mr.... Good luck. Good luck? Well, great. Good guy. Here's someone in here, Mr.... You couldn't have, you're smiling. Oh, no, sir. If you heard the door signing, it was just a win. Now, if you... Hold on, hold on. You know, I was just thinking. I've given my all over this school five years of faithful service. Mr. Hargrove served less than half that time, and for that, he got a statue. Yes, and what an ugly monstassity it is. It's no wonder the student parks their messy chewing dam all over him. I think you might be happier with a plaque after all, Mr. Conklin. Nonsense, nonsense. I shall write the letter of destination as per your original suggestion, Mr.... Really? I shall request a reply. You will wait for it. A reply? Signed and sealed by Mr. Conklin. But, sir, why Compton... I have spoken. Hello, Mr. Conklin. Yes, sir. Bye, Mr. Conklin. Well, Walter, it seems congratulations are in order. Congratulations. What do you mean, Mr. Conklin? Remember that sign and sign you created? He just had a baby. Tony Brooks, Bride of Frankenstein. Star of Walter Dehn's Pulitzer Prize-winning team and titles, I gave you the bag, Mr. Brooks, now hold it. And I was about to leave my classroom at noon and head to Mr. Conklin's office. Something entitled, That's What I Want for Christmas, came in. Hi, Mr. Brooks. Hello, Mr. Brine. Are you busy? No, that's your best offer. No, excuse it, Mr. Brine. Can you excuse me? I've got to run over to Mr. Conklin's office. Walter Dehn is in trouble up to my neck. Yes, I know. Walter confessed the entire story to me, hoping that I could come up with a solution. But I'm afraid that's not up to me, Mr.... You're carrying the ball. It's not a ball, it's a bomb. Dance with over to Mr. Conklin's office together, shall we? Well, they're happy to see I get along, if you don't mind. Say, I met Mrs. Davis if she was heading to the school cafeteria. I promised to join her for lunch, in fact. Mrs. Davis is in the cafeteria? Well, yes. She says she just didn't feel like dining at home alone. Well, Mr. Conklin lets you go, Mr. Brooks. Do you think you might join her? I don't know. I may join the foreign legion instead. I saw Mr. Conklin briefly at 11 o'clock, and he was practically throwing a sit, because Mr. Hargrove received a statue from the board. In greats, he called them. Particularly, Mr. Stone. Really, I've never seen him so furious. Well, that was at 11 o'clock, Mr. Brooks. Maybe he's calmed down a little by now. Well, here's his office. I'll soon find out. And they're in a huge mess! That's not calmed down a little. I'm sorry. Before you leave that inkwell, please observe that I have entered under a flag of truth. And let's dispense with the leather, shall we? As Brooks, instead of writing to Mr. Stone, I have decided to have a little chat with him. It's clear to me now that he endures my outstanding record. The board would have given me a statue long ago if Mr. Stone had not been working insidiously against me. Oh, you mustn't jump to conclusions, Mr. Conklin. After all, Mr. Stone is your superior, sir, and if you should flare up in his presence... Well, I see your point. Yes, yes, you're perfectly right. Taste control, that's the biggest thing. I'll just concentrate on speaking. Hello, Osgood. This is Mr. Stone. Mr. Stone, eh? I instructed the gentleman in our office to deliver your plaque. Justice... Hey, my son! Mr. Conklin. What is that? Osgood, I said this is Mr. Stone. Mr. Stone, Mr. Stone, Mr. Stone. I have to call you Mr. Stone. I bet you let Mr. Hargrove call you Charlie. Ranked discrimination. That's what it is. I bet that's about another you. Besides, you... You son of a... Well, I guess I sold him off, Mr. Stone. There's absolutely nothing he can do about it except fire me. If he thinks I'm going to grovel it... Fire me if what you made me do! Fire me? Yes, you! I was perfectly content with my little plaque until you came in and stained me up. Now, Mr. Stone will have my job. And my job! My little family will starve! Holy Salido! I got the window! That man coming up the wall for the briefcase. The man Mr. Stone said over in my plaque, he asked the clerk on staff to... Oh, I wanted my job! You know, forgive you for that, sir. You know, Mrs. Davis' sister Angela, she called the brother some terrible names. And he forgave her. So I'm to think of it though, she had amnesia at the top. Amnesia? That's it. I just know what I was saying. I wasn't in my right mind. Oh, now please, Mr. Conklin. You only know what else. Oh, my name is Turner. Mr. Conklin, I presume? Conklin, who's Mr. Conklin? Well, I've got... You're a long boy. I've got amnesia. Amnesia? Tell him, lady. Look, sir. Mr. Turner, I'm Mr.... Look, sir, who's Mr? I've been taking care of Mr. Conklin here, sir. The amnesia came on suddenly. An accident. Oh, I'm sorry. Sorry? Who's sorry? Excuse me, folks. Will you have lunch with me, Daddy? Daddy? Who's Daddy? Daddy! Don't call me Daddy and never say before in my life. Daddy! Daddy, who's Daddy? Oh, look at me. I'm not Daddy. Daddy, Mr. Conklin? No, excuse me, sir. Yet your daddy has received a glare on the head. Yes, he has amnesia, child. Amnesia? Amnesia, who's amnesia? Will you allow me to use the form, miss? Let's now inform the authority. They've already been informed. They're picking Daddy up in an hour. Oh, no! Sorry. Later on, I will explain how everything happened. Now, you go have lunch and don't worry. All right, miss. Goodbye, Daddy. You can just leave the class here, Mr. Turner. You needn't take it back to the board. I don't know anything about any board. I just came in here to sell a few brushes. What is? Get out, you niggas! Boy, this guy's wacky all right. Let's get out of here! Sorry, Mr. Conklin. I think I'll top-loss for lunch now. Not the best. To be perfect to candid with you, Miss Puss, I welcome you to find that the amnesia is... It doesn't sound convincing to me. Nor to me. And I advise you to get your brain working on a totally different scheme to clear with, Mr. Stone. Something clever. I just think... Think, think. Dream up some nice, dirty, juicy clock. I hold you responsible for my present life. For if I'm booted out of this school, I'll take you with me. That's the dirtiest juicy spot I ever heard. Poor kid. Don't cry, Harriet. It was a blow on the head. His book said the authorities are going to pick him up in the road. Put Daddy away! Gosh, if there were anything we could possibly do to restore his memory, you could certainly depend on us, Harriet. But we're powerless. Really? I'll hold it. Say my good, Mr. Conklin. Another blow on the head. Where's my sister, Angela? I'll lose you. Harriet, I read about that in medical books, Harriet. If a person is sticking with amnesia due to a blow on the head, a second blow does sometimes restore his memory. Yeah. And you don't have to wait an hour. It's instantaneous. As soon as it gets wet. It's particularly effective if the blow is delivered by surprise. I don't want any of this, Daddy. It's a blow that means the happiness of your entire family, child. Now you must be brave. Would you like to give it to him with my umbrella, Mr. Martin? Do you have him a hug in the hand, or...? You'd better leave me out of it, Mrs. Davis. I'm too strong for the job. Let Walter do it. Oh, not me. It's simple. I'm a student of Belt One's own principle. Who doesn't have to be in for life, Walter? Then Mr. Compton opens the door, just saying. So do you, sir. And then there's him. Please, Harriet. If there's one thing that breaks me up, it's the crying of a female. Yeah, I'm the same way. And you just turned real hard out of me. And you learned the courage to help too, Daddy. Neither one of you. Well, if you folks will excuse me, I... I want to go upstairs and kind of thank a little. Just I'll take a turn over to the gym and maybe think a little. Goodbye. Goodbye. Go on. You just can't depend on them. Well, you just cry your tears, Harriet. I don't think of something. Well, let me think. I'm trying to, sir. How's this? You go home and I'll wait here in your office. Now, when Mr. Stone arrives, I'll tell him you haven't been in all day and that the person you called in those nasty names on the phone must have been a prankster imitating your voice. Well, I had an idea. I wasn't even here. An imposter impersonating me. Splendid, splendid. I'll get out of here with... Look, the window. Mr. Stone is coming up the walk. Holy cow! If I tried to make a run for it now, he'd see me in the hall. I can't go out the door. I can't go out the window. What do I do? Well, it's a little early for the chimney, Tanda. You're a cat. My family's at safety. He mustn't see me here. I've got him a different scheme. Oh, no more schemes, please. He won't see me. He can't see me. Not if I render him unconscious with a quick, painless whack on the noggin. What? Blood's ahead of the board? The moment he opens that door. I've lost all sense of reason, Mr. Cousin, when one hysteria carried him to the point of... I'm back in the closet. He's been quick going all over. Oh, good. What's the meaning of it? Oh! Oh, I've got to revive him. Wake up, sir. Wake up. Mr. Conklin, wake up. Mr. Stone, maybe if I slack his face a bit, Mr. Conklin. Mr. Conklin. I, that maniac, was boring enough to cut at me. I had to defend myself. Oh, he seems to be regaining consciousness. Well, oh, what happened? One quick, though, and it was all over. On your feet! You've got some tall explaining to do, Osgoode. Osgoode, who's Osgoode? Oh, Mr. Stone, Mr. Stone. I was hoping you'd drop into how I missed you. He didn't miss you, daddy. I think he'll be missing you, too. Osgoode, why did you take a swing at me as I entered this office? Me, sir? You know what, take him, Mr. Stone. May I be struck by life when you like it? No, I'll get it, I'll get it. Forgive me, sir. Mr. Conklin, wake up. Me, sir. Then, sir. Oh, you're my habit of knocking out salt principles. Oh, sir, this is my lucky day. Ah! What happened? You were struck by 16-year-old lightning. I seem to be missing you. Another blow, another tooth. That's right, Mr. Conklin. What the devil is going on here? I'll get it, I'll get it. Oh, forgive me, Osgoode. I've hugged him, I've hugged him with a handle. Mr. Conklin, wake up, sir. Oh, what happened? You've now lost four teeth, sir. Would you like to try for eight? I demand an explanation. I can't talk now. I'm a sick man. It's three weeks by all I'm going home. Forgive me, sir. Wake up. Wake up, Mr. Boyden. Wake up. At least I got in one good lift. Miss Brooks, what's wrong with him? Don't look now, Mr. Boyden, but all you want for Christmas is your two friends' teeth. Music is over, Hatch. Mr. Conklin was played by Gear Gordon. Others in tonight's cast were Jane Morgan, Dick Plenna, Bob Rockwell, Gloria McMillan, and Mary Jane Cross. Here's Wendell Niles inviting you to be with us again next Sunday at the same time for another comedy episode of Our Miss Brooks.