Do I see a split?
Just keep your eye on the ball, Barney-boy.
Oh boy, good old Sunday.
Nothing to do but lazy around and read the Sunday paper.
- Honey? - Yes, Fred?
- Did you see the Sunday paper? - No, Fred, it hasn't come yet.
Mr. Flintstone, here's your paper. Catch!
Did you get your paper, dear?
Yeah, and I'm lucky it only comes once a week.
Now let's see what the rock market is doing.
I see the Dodgers lost again.
Fore!
- Barney! - Hiya, Fred, neighbor-pal.
What are you supposed to be doing besides annoying me on my day off?
Practicing golf. Watch this. Fore!
One more "fore" out of you and I'll give you what for.
Twenty-five hundred people in Bedrock...
and I have to pick this pebble-brain for a neighbor.
Hey, how about this!
"Fred Flintstone to captain bowling finals."
Fore!
Hold it, Fred. I gotta play them where they lie.
Pooch your mouth up a little.
Why, you...
I'll pooch your pointed head up if I catch you.
You know what's wrong with you, friend Freddie? You're a nervous wreck.
- And you need a hobby, like mine. - I got a hobby.
It's peace and quiet on Sunday.
And if I don't get it, I'm gonna break you in little pieces.
I said, "Barney."
What are you doing now?
It's my hobby I tried to tell you about.
I build things, and it keeps my nimble little fingers busy.
- What do you think of it? - Before I think of it, what is it?
That little invention will make me the first man to take off into the blue.
Well, I got a little invention of my own...
which is called "a rap on the noggin," if you don't cut out the noise.
Into the blue? That thing?
- Will it work? - It'll work, Freddie-friend...
on account of the stickle bolts connected to the toggle switch...
the toggle switch connected to the ratchet...
the ratchet rod connected to the tension trod...
which in turn is connected to the flywheel.
Then, zoom! Before you know it, you're airborne.
Now what do you think of my invention, Fred?
You still insist you're gonna fly in that crazy contraption?
- Just like the birds. - Listen, neighbor.
I'm gonna save you a lot of work and inventing.
I'm gonna fix it so you won't need that thing to fly in.
It works like this.
My fist bone connected with your jawbone, and zoom!
Before you know it, you are airborne.
Now let me get some rest, you poor excuse for a neighbor.
Poor Fred. He's a bundle of nerves.
The tension trod connected to the flywheel.
Fly just like the birds.
Looked like a dinosaur-eggbeater to me.
Nice flying weather, neighbor.
Look, Freddie, the hard way. No hands.
And no brains, either.
It works!
He's really flying. Hey, Barney!
Barney, buddy-pal!
What do you say now, Freddie-boy?
What do I say?
We did it! We're a success!
- We? - Right, Barney-boy.
With my brains and your nimble fingers, we'll make a fortune.
Think of it. No more traffic problems.
Fly right out the window each morning.
There'll be two in every cave, a "his" and a "hers."
- We'll form a corporation. - Yeah, but l...
I will be the president...
and I'll make you vice-president in charge of production.
Vice-president?
I even got a name for it.
Listen to this, Barney-boy: The Flintstone Flyer.
I was gonna call it the Barney-copter.
Not a bad suggestion, but it ain't got the hard sell.
We'll stick to the Flintstone Flyer.
Speaking of flying...
how about the prexy taking this jalopy for a trial spin?
- But do you think you're ready for a solo? - Out of my way.
- Anything you can do, I can do better. - Look, it ain't easy...
Explain it to me once. I will show you I'm ready to solo.
What's to explain?
Just start pumping, and when you're up to speed you take off.
That's all there is to it?
There's one other thing.
Details. Don't bother me with details. See me when I get back.
I just wanted to tell him how to land.
If he takes off, that is.
Hey, you're too fat, Fred!
Details, see me when I get back.
Back to the drawing board.
Hiya, Fred. How's the grounded eagle today?
Why didn't you tell me you didn't get all the bugs out of that thing...
before you let me take it up?
There's no bugs in it. You're just too fat.
Yeah, well, I'm no fathead. I resign.
Get yourself another boy for president.
Have it your way, Freddie.
From now on, the new president's gonna be me.
Yours truly, "Buzz" Barney.
Roger, wilco and O-U-T, out.
By the way, the boys are gonna miss you tonight.
What do you mean miss me tonight?
How are you gonna bowl in that crash condition?
Are you kidding?
I'll bowl tonight even if I have to push the ball down the alley with my nose.
Put it there, Fred.
Spoken like the true captain...
of the Rockhead and Quarry Cave Construction Team.
Fred, I'm home.
- Hi, Wilma. - How are you feeling?
Great. I never felt better in my life.
I'm so glad. I thought sure you wouldn't be able to make it tonight.
You think a little scratch would keep me from going?
And to think I almost returned the tickets.
- Tickets? What do I need tickets for? - Don't be silly.
How do you expect to go to the opera without tickets?
Opera?
Did you say "opera"?
Of course. You knew we were going with the Rubbles tonight.
Tonight?
When else? We've had the tickets for a month.
Does Barney know about this?
Naturally. He bought the tickets.
Now what did I do?
Nothing. I just wanted to tell you I'm not going bowling tonight.
- Wow, can I be captain of the team? - You're not going either.
We're not going bowling...
because you had to buy tickets for the opera, for tonight.
I forgot.
Yeah, you forgot.
And we can forget about the bowling championship...
thanks to you, opera-lover.
We'll be drummed out of the Rockhead and Quarry bowling team for this.
I'd be better off if I broke my leg.
Then at least I'd have had an excuse.
Hey, maybe you got a fractured skull and don't know it?
I don't have one, but you will when the boys hear about this.
Wait a minute.
Maybe I do have something wrong with my noggin.
You do?
And maybe it'll show up tonight just when we're leaving.
I don't get it.
You'll get it if you don't pay attention. We're going bowling yet.
Now listen.
A- bowling we will go A- bowling we will go
Heigh ho
Answer the door, dear. It must be the Rubbles.
Okay, honey.
- Hi, neighbors. - Hi, Fred.
La donna e mobile
Faniculi, fanicula Faniculi, fanicula
- Love that opera. - I can hardly wait for the first cadenza.
Aren't you boys overdoing it a little?
Let's hurry or we'll be late. Have you got the tickets, Fred?
- Got the tickets. - Yes, indeed.
Fanicula, faniculi, faniculi
- Love your dress. - Thanks.
Fred, what's wrong?
Fred, speak to me.
He can't talk, Wilma. He's in a state of shock.
- From the crash? - What else?
With thick skulls, it sets in a lot later.
Quick, let's get him to bed.
Are you kidding?
Miss the opera on account of...
my little dizzy spell?
No, you three run along. I'll be fine.
What? And leave you alone?
Are you kidding? Me leave without my buddy?
Look, you two go ahead. You're all dressed up for it, anyway.
I'll baby-sit Fred's shook-up head.
Sure, that's a good idea, pal.
Why waste the tickets? Now go ahead. That's an order.
- You're sure you'll be all right? - What can happen with Barney here?
Yeah, they don't call me "Band-Aid" Barney for nothing.
What do you think, Betty?
Well, it's only for a few hours, and Barney will sit with him.
I feel terrible doing this.
- Hey, Fred, it worked. - My idea, wasn't it?
With head bloodied but unbowed, you bowl tonight...
my captain, my captain.
Hurry up and get your bowling ball. I feel hot tonight.
What?
How are we gonna get into town? The girls got the car.
Hey, how about hitchhiking?
Sure, and maybe the wives will give us a lift back home.
Don't you get it?
We gotta go to town, bowl, and beat them back here.
I got it. Simple. We go the over-land route.
Not your crazy eggbeater again?
Sure. I fixed it.
I added king-sized flippers so it could carry a heavy load...
even a fat one.
If this gadget doesn't work...
I'm gonna unload a heavy load of five fat knuckles on your nose.
Mr. Copilot, ready for the takeoff?
Better start praying if it don't.
- We're off! - Not from where I sit.
Maybe we ought to drop the bowling balls.
- Yeah, on your head. - Flap your arms up and down.
You mean like this?
Yes, it's working, Fred.
That's all we needed, a little extra power.
How about that, Fred?
- The Barney-copter does it again. - I got news for you, Veep.
I just re-elected myself president...
of the Flintstone Flyer Corporation.
You know, I feel like a heel. Fred in bed, and me off enjoying myself.
And Barney offering to stay with him...
right after he said how much he wanted to go to the opera.
I'd feel better if I knew Fred was all right.
Me, too. Let's call home at intermission.
Step aside, Pagliacci, whilst the captain warms up.
Do I see a split?
Just keep your eye on the ball, Barney-boy.
You're the greatest, Fred!
The old master strikes again.
Hey, old master, how about something to cool you off?
The way I'm going, nothing can cool me off tonight.
Okay, let me have one with a couple of straws.
One frosty one coming up.
With two straws, please.
- Thanks. - That's all right.
Ball on target. Bombs away.
- Did I do good, Fred? - Great, just great.
Now would you like to try bowling like the rest of us?
Oh, boy.
Big strike coming up.
So is a big wind. Close your mouth.
- Bravo! - Encore!
Isn't it beautiful, Wilma?
All I can think of is poor Fred home suffering.
If it'll make you feel any better, let's go out and call them right now.
You know, I would feel better.
Maybe there's a phone in that bowling alley across the street.
Oh, dear. I hope Fred's all right.
Would you stop worrying? He is all right.
Poor Fred. I hope he's not running a fever.
Am I hot tonight!
It's so noisy, I can't hear a thing.
There's no answer. I'm worried.
Keep your eye on the king of the tenpins.
Just hold on to the ball this time, or I'll crown you king pinhead.
Oh, no!
Why, you crazy...
Fred, look. Over there, in the phone booth. The wives.
The wives?
- We better go home. Something's wrong. - Yeah, I guess you're right.
We'll just...
Wilma, look. Isn't that Fred and Barney?
If they see us, we're dead.
If they catch us, we'll wish we were. They're heading this way.
Think of something, quick. You're the captain.
- Hey, we can use that broom. - Broom? What a time to get neat!
So, he had to baby-sit a sick friend?
It's gonna be two sick friends.
Surprise, husbands!
Now it's my turn.
- Good heavens! - It's not them.
Have we met?
- They don't allow pick-ups in here. - Ja, this is a respectable place.
- We thought you were our husbands. - Yeah, both of them.
Is that the way you always greet your husbands?
Ja. "Hello, darling," pow?
The average husband can stand just so many pows.
Ja, then he takes a powder. Get it?
- That was very funny, no? - No.
- Sorry. Excuse us. - You looked like our husbands.
If you're looking for your husbands...
why don't you try looking at home, where you belong?
Ja. And I bet one of them is baby-sitting a sick friend.
Don't you know when to quit?
Let's go home.
That's for sure. Something real phony is going on.
- That was a close one. - Yeah. Well, back to bowling.
Are you out of your mind? Grab the bowling balls.
We gotta beat them home.
I was never so embarrassed in my life.
How could two sets of characters look so much alike?
All I can say is one set of characters better be home when we get there.
Step on it.
- This thing is the greatest. - My invention, isn't it?
You know something, Rubble? There'll be a Flintstone Flyer in every cave.
I'll be rich.
How about me?
Keep pumping. We'll beat them home by an hour.
Faniculi, faniculi, fanicula
- Hey, Fred, look. - Look where?
- Double trouble at 6 o'clock. - What do you know! The wives.
Hey, they must be doing over 80.
They're gonna beat us home.
No, they're not. Now hear this.
Pilot to co-pilot.
I read you, loud and clear.
Retract landing gear.
Introvert your decibels. Increase speed to 4,500 rpms.
- Over and out. - What's all that mean, Fred?
It means step on it, you imbecile, that's what. Let's go.
Faniculi, fanicula.
What will we say when they ask why we're home so early?
- Just say we missed them. - Why not tell them the truth?
And say we don't trust them around the corner?
- Suppose they're not here? - They'll be back.
- What'll we do in the meantime? - In the meantime, we get meaner.
Quiet. Maybe Fred's asleep.
Read me another bedtime story, Barney-pal.
Sure. Which one: Uncle Wigley or I was a Teenage Brontosaurus?
So help me, I'll never mistrust Fred again.
You're right, Wilma.
They're two of the good ones.
Let's face it. We're a couple of shrews.
Ja, that's for sure. Let that be a lesson.
Never doubt your husbands or they may take a powder. Get it?
It was them.
You dope!
- State of shock? - Wilma, no, not in the head!
- Try that on your fortissimo. - Stand still, you insect.
Betty, not with the bowling ball.
- Head for the whirligig! - Start flapping for a quick takeoff.
- Come back, you coward! - Wilma, they're getting away.
Don't worry. Whatever goes up sooner or later comes down.
Especially the fat ones.
- Your play. - Gin.
How long would you say they've been up there?
About six hours, give or take a few.
But, Fred, my legs are getting tired.
Are your legs tired, or are you tired of living? Keep pumping.
I'm too pooped to pump.
It won't be long now.
- Barney's running out of gas. - I know.
It'll be nice to have them back.
Come on, Wilma, open this door!