Scarecrow and Mrs. King · Season 1, Episode 2
“There Goes The Neighborhood” · Season 1, Episode 2
In this episode: Lee Stetson (6), Amanda (5), Francine Desmond (3), Dotty (1)
Billy! It was after six o'clock. Bumpy Holcomb would already be in the yacht by that time, halfway through his soup course.
Bumpy?
To his more intimate friends, yes.
I'll never know what you see in that guy. He's hardly your type.
He's got money, looks, power, a house down in Rio. He's exactly my type.
Children. This case is nastier than I thought.
Well, ha ha, there you are, you sly boots. I thought it was agreed, Babycakes, no job until the triplets are in nursery school!
What are you talking about?
You know, the little woman is so gosh-darn eager to earn some pin money. But I told her, the first four years of a child's life are more important than a new roof. Come on, Cookieface, it's two o'clock, feeding time.
What the Sam Hill do you think you are doing? First, you cannot get rid of me fast enough, then you barge in and drag me out of an interview for a perfectly good job. You say you are my husband, a lie which I do not find funny, and where do you think you are taking me?
We're getting married.
That's asking too much.
What do you mean you didn't get the job at Honeycut Typewriter? Didn't the interview go well?
You certainly could say that.
Have you told Dean? I think you should. I have always found him a rock in my darkest moments.
You told my boyfriend your darkest moments?
Well, um ... he's so patient. It's like talking to a registered nurse.
No! I can't sleep here. How would I explain it? I'd feel like I was lying and sneaking.
You are lying and sneaking. You're working for the government.
No! I mean ... I would feel guilty. You know? Like I was... having a thing. Or something. You know?
A thing?
Yes, you know. A thing.
Like an affair?
Yes. That kind of a thing.
Well, you're not. Now, do you like a window open at night?
Lee. I have to consider Dean.
Okay. How does he feel about windows?
I need two more strawberry daiquiris. Go easy on the rum.
Where does it say in my contract that I have to make daiquiris? I hate this assignment. I want a divorce
So, how is married life treating you, huh? Dinner at six? Dishes at seven? TV till nine?
Bed.
Bed?
You know, Francine, I've gained a lot of respect for the generosity and... stamina of the American housewife.
You're disgusting.
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