Roy hands the tickets to two old couple.
Roy: Here are your tickets with your seat assignments, Mr. Mortenson, and we at Aeromass, we appreciate your patronage.
Roy shakes Mr. Mortenson’s hand.
Roy: We hope you’ll fly with us again, real, real, soon.
Roy shakes Mrs. Mortenson’s hand.
Roy: Oh, Lowell. Please take Mr. Mortenson’s bag out to the plane.
Lowell: My pleasure. Right this way, Ma’am.
Lowell offers his arm. Mrs. Mortenson gasps. The couple leaves.
Lowell and Joe enter the hangar.
Lowell: So, what was wrong with the radio again, Joe?
Joe: It keeps cuttin’ in and out when I’m in my office, I have gotta be able to pick up the mike and know whoever is sitting in that cockpit can hear me.
Lowell: Well, I’d say your best bet would be to stick your head out the office door and yell.
Joe: No, I—I meant when the plan’es in the air, Lowell.
Lowell: So did I.
Lowell enters the plane. Brian enters the hangar and approaches Joe.
Brian: Hey, Joe, the candidates for the backup pilots are startin’ to jam up out there.
Joe: Ok, I’m ready. Send ‘em out.
Brian signals the applicants to come in.
Brian: Let’s go.
Three men enter. One that looks like Rambo, another a kid and lastly a very old man.
Joe: Is this it?
Brian: Afraid so.
Man: You know, a 3-man commando squad could take this place out like that.
The man snaps his fingers.
Man: Security around here sucks.
Joe: Uh, thanks. I’ll look into it. Uh, I want—I want to thank you all for coming.
The man walks towards the plane.
Joe: See, I’m in a kind of a bind here. I, uh, recently lost my license due to hypertension. It’s just a temporary thing. Anyway—
Joe turns to the kid.
Joe: Uh, how old are you?
Kid: Oh, 18, sir. But I have my commercial pilot’s license. I got it two weeks ago. Same day my braces came off.
The man is cleaning his fingernail with a knife.
Man: Plane’s a death trap. Couple of rounds of steel-jacketed ammo in the fuel tank and this baby’s a roman candle.
Joe: Yeah, well, uh, thanks. Umm, uh, now why don’t—why don’t we just get on with the interviews.
Joe turns to the old man.
Joe: Would you like to step in my office, Mister, uh…
Joe shakes hands with Mr. Stubbs.
Stubbs: By the way, does this job require that I fly at night?
Joe: Yeah, is that a problem?
Stubbs: Well, my doctor don’t like me drivin’ after dark, but he didn’t say nothin’ about flyin’.
Joe leads Mr. Stubbs to his office.
Joe: So, Mr. Stubbs, I imagine you’ve had quite a lot of experience flying.
Stubbs: Oh, I’ve flown for a lot of outfits. I even have a letter of recommendation from Charles Lindbergh, here, but the damn thing came apart.
Mr. Stubbs pulls out tattered pieces of paper and hands it to Joe.
Joe: Charles Lindbergh? The Charles Lindbergh?
Stubbs: Well, unless he was pullin’ my leg. My daughter wants to get me out of the house.
Joe: I see.
Stubbs: Yeah, she’s kind of mad at me, because I totaled her new car. Heck. It—it—it wasn’t my fault. It’s all those fancy lights and gizmos on the dashboard. They’re—it just got me flummoxed.
Lowell speaks into the transmitter.
Lowell: You left the switch down on your transmitter, Joe. I read you loud and clear.
Stubbs: Who—who—who said that?
Joe speaks on the radio.
Joe: I didn’t touch the switch, Lowell. That’s the problem. It cuts in and out all by itself. It’s a ground-to-air radio.
Stubbs: Good Lord, Miss Agnes! What they won’t think of next.
Fay and Roy are at the lunch counter. Helen serves Roy his order and sighs.
Roy: Oh, no, Helen, I don’t want those eggs fried. I asked for ‘em scrambled.
Helen: No problem.
Helen takes a fork and mashes Roy’s fried eggs.
Roy: Who twisted your shorts?
Helen: It’s my life, I guess. I feel this desperate need for something and I just don’t know quite what it is. I mean, I get up in the morning and I come to work. I go home, I go to bed. Is that all there is?
Roy: Throw in a TV dinner, and yeah, that’s pretty much it.
Roy walks away with his plate.
Helen: What am I gonna do, Fay? My life is a miserable, lonely existence.
Fay: Get a bird.
Helen: Fay, I don’t think you understand. All my friends are getting married. Tomorrow, I’m gonna be the bridesmaid for the 5th time this year. I’m not even asking to get married. All I want to do is go out, have a nice time with a decent guy. If something doesn’t happen soon, all the kids are gonna call me “that weird old lady at the end of the block”.
Fay: You’ll get used to it. Let me put my thinking cap on and I bet I’ll come up with the perfect fellow for you.
Helen: Thanks, Fay.
Brian goes behind the lunch counter.
Brian: Hey, Helen, ever had peach brandy sucked out of your navel?
Helen: Hurry, Fay, hurry.
Joe steps out of his office.
Joe: It’s no use. I can’t bring myself to hire any of those guys.
Brian approaches Joe.
Brian: Joe, you’ve gotta. I can’t keep flying every flight myself. My little catnaps are upsetting the passengers.
Joe: I know. I know. But look at my choices.
Brian: Joe, those are the last three people on earth who are willing to work for what you’re paying. Why don’t you let me make the decision, ok? I’ll assess all their qualifications, factor in their experience, and after I’ve compiled all the data, choose the best possible person for the job.
Joe: 1 potato, 2 potato?
Brian: Yeah, pretty much.
Brian enters the office.
Joe: Fay, this airline gets harder to run by the minute.
Fay: Try standing in heels all day.
Joe: I am too wrapped up in this job. I—I get here in the morning, I run the office all day, I go home at night and go to bed. I need something else in my life.
Fay: Helen is thinking about getting a bird.
Brian steps out followed by the kid.
Brian: Joe, meet your new swing pilot. Kenny McElvey.
Kenny: It’s a privilege to be aboard, sir.
Kenny shakes Joe’s hand.
Brian: He’s young, but in my opinion, this cadet has all the right stuff.
Kenny: Oh boy. Wait till the kids in the bus hear I’m piloting the 5:15 to Hyannis.
Kenny sighs and clasps his hand.
Kenny: Let’s see who’s the dork-face now.
Roy continues to laugh.
Helen marches in the airport wearing a bridesmaid’s dress. People exclaim at the sight of her.
Helen: Ok, everybody, listen up. I just got back from a wedding. My change of clothes is locked in the car along with my keys.
Helen puts on her apron.
Helen: So, if anybody has any wisecracks to make, let me hear ‘em now.
Lowell: You won’t hear any from me. I like the new uniform.
Fay: Did you meet anyone interesting at the wedding?
Helen: Oh, yeah, Fay. The only single guy there was pickin’ his teeth with a matchbook.
Helen: The teeth were in his hand at the time. Fay, it was not supposed to happen this way. All these girls getting married, they were the easy type, who spent high school necking in parked cars up at Indian Point. Not me. I was dedicated to my music. A nice girl. The sort of girl that guys are supposed to marry after they get tired of the other kind.
Fay: Some boys take a long to time to tire.
Lowell: Indian Point.
Lowell: Well, the wife still likes to go up there and park, just to put the excitement back in our marriage.
Fay: Does it work?
Lowell: So she says. Next time, I’m going with her.
Joe steps out of the office with Kenny.
Joe: Ok, Kenny.
Kenny puts on an oversized pilot’s cap.
Joe: Even though you’re kind of young, I have to admit you seem—
Joe turns around to find Kenny wearing the oversized pilot’s cap.
Joe: Lose the hat.
Kenny takes off his hat.
Joe: You seem to know your stuff.
Kenny: I was top man in my flight class, sir.
Joe: And I like your appearance. Take not, Brian.
Kenny: Bought my own uniform with my allowance, sir. I want to be the same kind of squared-away, by-the-book pilot you are.
Brian: Kid we gotta talk.
Fay speaks on the PA.
Fay: Sandpiper Air Flight 7 to Hyannis will now being boarding.
Fay calls Kenny to come up the counter.
Fay: Your copilot this afternoon is Nantucket’s own, Kenny McElvey who has a B-pluss average and is the president of the chess club.
Brian messes up Kenny’s hair. Brian leads Kenny out to the runway.
Fay: So, how are you today, Joe?
Joe: Well, I’m trying hard not to let this job be so important to me. Last night, I even went out. Ended up at the rose and crown. I met a woman. Everything was going great and then I started talkin’ about my plane.
Fay: Oh Joe, you didn’t.
Joe: Yeah. Next thing I knew, she went to powder her nose and never came back. Apparently, she kicked the window out of the ladies’ room and ran for it. Where am I gonna find someone who’ll accept me the way I am?
Fay: Well, you know, Joe, when it comes to finding the right person, sometimes you have to be a little patient.
Fay steps out of the Sandpiper Air counter.
Fay: I was telling Helen the same thing.
Fay: Wait a minute. How blind could I be? It was right in front of me.
Fay walks back to the Sandpiper Air counter where Joe is still at.
Fay: I forgot my purse.
Fay takes her purse and leaves. Joe walks over to the lunch counter.
Joe: Helen, I’ve been thinking about my situation and uh, you know, your situation and—
Helen: Exactly what kind of situation are we talkin’ about here, Joe?
Roy: He’s washed out and you’re over the hill.
Roy turns to Lowell.
Roy: Communication’s a dying art.
Joe: Helen, could you come into my office for a minute, please?
Helen: Sure. Lowell, would you watch the counter, please?
Helen removes her apron.
Lowell: Uh, what if somebody wants to order something?
Helen hands Lowell her apron.
Helen: Just tell ‘em I’ll be back in a minute.
Roy takes a bite at a doughnut and starts coughing.
Roy is choking.
Lowell: Helen’ll be back in a minute, Roy.
Roy runs to get himself water.
Joe and Helen are in the Sandpiper Air office.
Helen: Ok, so what’s this all about?
Joe: Before you say anything, just hear me out. I couldn’t help but notice, you don’t seem to have anyone in your life right now and neither do I. And I was thinking it would seem only logical that—
Helen: You wanna go out on a date?
Joe: Yes. No. Well, yes, but I, sort or, wanted to be the one to ask. I know it’s old-fashioned, but that’s just the way I feel. The guy should ask the girl.
Helen: Ok. Go ahead.
Joe: Wanna go out on a date?
Joe: What? What? Wait. Look, I—I know, I know. This is that no-dating-pilots rule. You know I have got to tell you. I have always thought that rule was a lot of baloney.
Helen: Well, it’s kind of moot because you’re not a pilot anymore.
Joe: Yeah, but you’re forgetting, I’m not a pilot anymore. Wait a minute, did you just—
Joe: Well—well, then, why won’t you go out with me?
Helen: Because, this sounds way too convenient. I don’t wanna go out with you, because you’re lonely and I’m lonely and we both happen to be at the same place at the same time. And what if some other lonely woman happened by? Would you ask her out instead?
Joe: What does she look like?
Joe: I’m kidding. I’m kidding. It’s me kidding.
Helen: Look, I just don’t want this to be convenient. I am not a minimart. I want you to ask me out because you find me alluring, desirable, intriguing, provocative. I wanna know that late at night, when you lie in bed drifting in that netherworld between consciousness and sleep, I dance through your dreams.
Helen starts playing with her hair.
Joe: I think that was implied.
Helen slams her hand on the table.
Helen: No. That wasn’t. I wanna hear you say it. A woman has to hear these things.
Joe: Well, you know, what you said.
Helen: No. You have to say it, Joe. Just say it.
Joe: All right. You’re alluring and desirable,
Joe: And something else and when I’m asleep, you dance through the Netherlands.
Helen looks at him disappointed.
Helen: Close enough. What time you picking me up?
Joe: 8 o’clock.
Helen makes her way out of the office and quickly returns.
Helen: Oh, wait a minute. What about Brian?
Joe: What about Brian?
Helen: Well, how’s he gonna feel about this? We’ve always been the three musketeers. What happens to the 3rd when the other two start dating?
Joe: I don’t know. He gets a bird?
Helen: I’m serious, Joe. He’s always asking me out. I always refuse. Now you and I are gonna go out. And it’s gonna hurt—
Joe: W-wait. Why don’t—why don’t we just see if this is going anywhere first before we upset the applecart.
Helen: Well, maybe you’re right. We’ll just keep this between the two of us.
Brian and Kenny listens to Joe and Helen’s conversation through the airplane radio.
Helen: What Brian doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.
Joe: Right. This’ll just be our little secret.
Kenny: I don’t understand. Why don’t they want you to know?
Brian: Never mind. Just turn that thing down.
Kenny turns off the radio.
Kenny: So, you wanna hang out later? I know this cool video arcade in Hyannis.
Brian: Sorry, boy wonder, but I’ve got a feeling I’m gonna be needed back on the island tonight.
That night Joe is preparing for his date with Helen when Brian enters his room.
Brian: Surprise! Ah! Bet you never expected to see me here tonight, did you?
Joe: Yeah. I assumed you were working.
Brian: Well, I let Kenny take the late flight to Provincetown.
Joe: Are you sure he’s ready?
Brian: Oh, yeah, he’s a great kid. Don’t worry about it. And very accomplished pilot, too. He only lost his poised once today and that’s when the passengers played keep-away with his hat.
Brian opens a beer.
Joe: Oh I hope you stopped it.
Brian: Stopped it? I started it. Say, was it a good thing I got back here in time.
Joe picks a polo shirt from his closet.
Joe: In time? For what?
Brian offers Joe a beer.
Brian: The fight, dummy. George Foreman, Gerry Cooney.
Joe: Gee, that sounds only slightly more exciting than watching a couple of old guys fight over a dinner roll.
Brian: Oh, come on Joe. I thought you’d wanna see it. So, I called up the cable company and I ordered it. It’s only costing you $21.95.
Joe: Brian, I can’t tonight. I—I mean, normally I’d love to, but, uh, I can’t because, I, uh, I have a—a, uh—an appointment.
Brian: Oh, an appointment uh? Like, uh, like in business?
Joe: Yeah. That’s right. A business appointment.
Joe puts on cologne.
Brian sniffs Joe.
Brian: Exactly where’d you meet this guy, Joe?
Joe: All right. Ok, it’s not an appointment exactly, uh, so much as, uh…
Brian: The “D” word?
Joe: Yeah. A date, ok?
Brian: Ooh, you old horn dog. Hey, you got a hot date, huh?
Brian offers him a beer.
Brian: Well, take a tip from the master. Flush that cologne, man. It’s toxic.
Joe: Really? You don’t like it?
Joe: That’s a relief. It’s only when you like something I start to worry.
Brian: So, um, why is this big date such a secret? Is it anybody I know?
Joe: Just someone I went to high school with.
Brian: Yeah, yeah, yeah?
Joe: Oh, you mean, like, what’s her name?
Joe: Oh, well, it’s uh, Maureen Mulhearn.
Brian: Maureen Mulhearn? Oh, my god! I remember her. How’s she managing anyhow?
Joe: Fine. Why?
Brian: Oh, I figured she might have some psychological problems after losin’ her leg in that shark attack.
Joe: What? Oh. No, no. She doesn’t let it bother her.
Brian: Oh, she’s a brave girl. Brave girl. Never understood why she wanted to attack that shark in the first place. You really wanna wear that shirt, Joe?
Joe: If you don’t like it, absolutely.
Brian: So where you takin’ old Maureen? Skatin’? Table-hoppin’?
Joe: All right, ok. It’s not Maureen. I made that up because it’s someone that you don’t know and I’d like to keep it that way.
Brian: Joe, you wound me.
Joe: Wish I had time.
Brian: All right. Well, go. Good. Go with my blessing. Have a great time and let’s just hope that at some romantic moment you don’t develop that, you know, n-n-nervous little s-stammer you sometimes get.
Joe: Oh, no. No, no, you don’t. You’ve psyched me out with that too many times.
Brian: I’m not psyching you out.
Joe: I am wise to you, Brian.
Brian: Come one.
Joe: You’re not planting any little psychological time bombs in my head.
Brian: Ok. All right. You got me. You got me. Go ahead. Go. Have a great time. Go on. Incidentally, love that tie.
Joe walks out of his bedroom. Brian walks to the door whistling. He opens the door and Joe returns removing his tie.
Joe and Helen are in the car.
Helen: That was a wonderful Chardonnay you chose with dinner tonight. I didn’t know you knew so much about wine.
Joe: Ah, it was nothing, really. I just went down the right side of the wine list.
Helen: Where the prices are?
Joe: Right. Chose the first one that didn’t make my heart stop.
Helen: You know, I had my qualms about this evening, but I think we handled it pretty well.
Joe and Helen look at each other.
Helen: No pressure of any sort. No embarrassment.
Joe brings Helen to Indian Point.
Helen: Why are we stopping? Where are we?
Helen: Oh, my god! Indian Point.
Joe: Oh, you recognize it?
Helen: Are you kidding me? I haven’t seen so many bouncing cars since the movie Earthquake. So, Joe, what did you have in mind?
Joe: Nothing. H-honestly. I didn’t plan this.
Helen: Oh, did we run out of gas?
Joe: Come on. Where’s your spirit of romance?
Helen: No. Romance is soft music and candlelight. This is kids with acne making out. Joe, this doesn’t seem like you.
Joe: Maybe you’re seeing a different side of me. A side of me you never knew—knew—knew that—d-d-damn it, Brian.
Helen: Well, maybe it’s a side of you I wouldn’t mind seeing.
Joe leans close to Helen to kiss her.
Joe: Oh, oh, cramp!
Helen: What? Oh.
Joe: Cramp. Cramp. Cramp.
Joe opens the door.
Boy #1: Hey, that’s my cello teacher. Yo, Miss Chappel!
Helen: Oh, god.
Helen hides. Joe accidentally pushes the horn.
Boy #2: Hey, shut up!
Joe: As you may have guessed, I’m not really an old hand at this.
Joe: What do you think? Shall we take another stab at it?
Helen: Sure, why not?
Joe leans to Helen and kisses her. A boy knocks on their windshield.
Kenny: Hey, Captain Hackett?
Joe and Helen stop kissing.
Kenny: Hey, I thought it was you. Last flight went great. And look what I got from Sally Bernetti.
Kenny shows Joe his hickey.
Joe: Doing better than I am, kid. Beat it.
Kenny: Oh, yes sir. I’ll see you tomorrow after school.
Joe and Helen resume kissing then start laughing.
Helen: This is really weird.
Joe: You’re tellin’ me.
Joe: Come on, Helen. I think we can do this. Let’s really concentrate.
Joe and Helen resume kissing. They start laughing again.
Helen: No, I don’t think so, Joe.
Joe: Once more.
Joe: Hey, once more. Be serious.
They try once again.
Helen: It’s not so funny anymore, is it?
Helen: Oh, Joe. Hold on. We have to stop for a second.
Joe: Oh, y-you mean, get in the backseat, maybe?
Helen: No, I mean, we’re moving really fast and we need to stop and think about what this means before we, you know…
Joe: Let her rip?
Helen: Well, I don’t think that’s quite the way Byron would have put it. But I think that’s kind of where we’re headed. I mean, we could be different after tonight. We could be lovers. I mean, people who have an intimate knowledge about each other. We’re talkin’ appendix scars here, Joe.
Joe: I don’t have an appendix scar.
Helen: I think you’re taking me much too literally.
Joe: Yeah, well, I—I just meant that—
Helen: Joe, any way you look at it, things are gonna change. Our relationship at work, your relationship with Brian. Mine too. We can never be the three musketeers again. So, if we’re gonna do this, we should keep in mind the passing of three beautiful friendships and a lot of lovely memories.
They fall silent.
Joe: So, how was it for you?
Helen: I don’t think we’re quite ready for this yet.
Joe: So, we’re—we’re taking things slowly. There’s nothing wrong with that.
Helen: Joe, we’ve known each other for 20 years. It is the longest run to first base in history.
Joe: I thought we got to 2nd base.
Helen looks out the window.
Helen: But I think Kenny did.
Joe: And from the looks of it, he’s halfway to 3rd.
Helen: Let’s get out of here. It’s been a long day.
Joe: Yeah and I’m kinda beat myself.
Brian comes out of the backseat.
Brian: And I’m certainly not getting any rest back here.
Helen: Hey! Brian!
This is not the actual script. This is my own transcription of the episode. The “Friends or Lovers?” episode was written by David Lloyd. Wings is owned by CBS Studios Inc., Paramount Pictures and Grub Street Productions.
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