Lowell Mather approaches Roy Biggins who is at the lunch counter eating.
Lowell: Hey, Roy, got a minute?
Lowell: Great. I’ve been practicing some impressions for the Lions Club talent show, and I just want to try ‘em out on you.
Roy: Why don’t you do an impression of someone leaving a room?
Lowell: Are you ready?
Roy Biggins rolls his eyes. Lowell turns his back and removes his cap. He faces Roy and speaks gruffly.
Lowell: Hi. I’m Jack Benny.
Roy: Lowell, that is the worst impersonation of Jack Benny I’ve ever seen.
Lowell: But you knew who it was. Ha! Ok, who’s this?
Lowell speaks gruffly, exactly the same tone as his last impersonation.
Lowell: Hi. I’m Bette Davis.
Roy: Oh, geez.
Lowell: No, wait. Wait. That was Katharine Hepburn. I’m always getting’ the 2 of ‘em mixed up. Ok, here, try again.
Lowell speaks gruffly, exactly the same tone of voice as his last impersonation.
Lowell: Hi, I’m Betty Davis.
Roy walks away.
Joe Hackett enters the hangar.
Joe: Just about done with that, Lowell?
Lowell is standing on the wing of the Cessna.
Lowell: I’ll be through in a jiff, Joe. You know, Joe, the Lord has blessed me.
Joe: Oh, yeah? How’s that, Lowell?
Lowell: I’ve got a beautiful wife. Sometimes I just like to lie in bed and watch her sleep. Her face bathed in moonlight. Her hair cascading across her pillow, her breasts rising and falling under the covers. You ever do that, Joe?
Joe: You mean with a girlfriend?
Lowell: No! I mean with my wife! The guys told me you were lookin’ at her funny the other day when she came to pick me up.
Joe: Lowell, no! Believe me. No.
Lowell: I’m sorry, Joe. I guess I’m just a jealous fool. Now, just forget I said anything about it, especially the part about her heaving breasts. And, uh…
Lowell: Joe, could you hand me that crescent wrench down there?
Joe: Yeah, sure.
Joe walks over to the wrench and bends over to pick it up.
Joe: Oh, God! I knew I shouldn’t have done that.
Lowell: Aha! So, the truth comes out, you home wrecker!
Joe: No, Lowell, it’s my back.
Lowell: Oh. Well, thank God.
Lowell steps down the wing to help Joe.
Lowell: Let me help you up.
Helen enters the hangar.
Helen: Hey, Joe. Are we on for that 5K run in the morning?
Joe: Uh, my back’s gone out again.
Helen: Oh! You ok?
Helen runs over to Joe.
Helen: Ok, don’t make any sudden moves.
Lowell: All right, I’m gonna go for help.
Joe remains in a squatting position as Lowell goes to get help.
Joe: Hey, Lowell.
Joe: You’re shoe’s untied.
Lowell: Hah! Not fallin’ for that old trick.
Lowell walks away, and trips.
Lowell: Uh, thanks, Joe.
Helen: Ok, can you stand up, honey?
Joe tries to stand up.
Joe: Oh, no. I—I don’t think so. I’m—I’m closer to the floor. Why don’t we go there?
Helen helps Joe sit.
Joe: No, no, wait, wait, wait, wait. Bad idea.
Helen: Oh, the floor’s too hard for your back?
Joe: No. These are new pants.
Helen walks away.
Helen: Oh, for heaven’s sakes!
Joe groans. Helen sees the rolling board, and pushes it to Joe. He grunts as he tries to sit on the board.
Helen: Be easy.
Joe groans as he sits on the board.
Helen: Let me help you.
Joe lays on the board with Helen in front of him, his legs are between Helen’s.
Brian arrives and watches the two.
Brian: Whoa, don’t you kids have a home?
Helen looks at Brian.
Brian: I mean the least you can do is use the desk in the office.
Helen: Joe’s back went out.
Brian: Yeah, I’ll bet it did. All right, well, let’s get this big baby inside, ok?
Brian tries to push the board to the office.
Joe: Ow! Ow.
Fay runs to the hangar.
Fay: What’s wrong?
Fay: What happened?
Helen: Well, Joe’s back went out and Brian tired to move him.
Fay: Oh, no, moving him could really hurt.
Roy: We should get some ice for his back.
Fay: Uh, no, you only apply ice after you apply moist heat.
Joe: Maybe someone should take me to the hospital.
Roy: No, it’s ice, then heat.
Fay: No, it’s heat, then ice.
Lowell: Are you sure you don’t breathe into a brown paper bag?
Helen: You know, maybe we should take him to a chiropractor.
Fay: No, what he really needs is some acupuncture.
Joe: Uh, the hospital—
Roy: Acupuncture? Why don’t we just wave a dead chicken over him?
Helen: Let’s just get a consensus…
Joe crawls his way out.
Brian: Why don’t we just take him to a general practitioner?
Roy: A general practitioner? You know what that’s gonna cost?
Helen is at the hospital with Joe.
Helen: Oh, cheer up, Joe. Few days bed rest and you’ll be as good as new.
Joe: Yeah, but why traction.
Helen: Because the doctor said that’s the fastest way for you to get better. Besides, you look so handsome in a hospital gown. Especially from behind.
Brian enters the room in scrubs.
Brian: Don’t touch me, Helen. I’m sterile.
Helen: On behalf of all the women of childbearing age, thank God.
Joe: Where’d you get those, Brian?
Brian: Borrowed these from a locked closet.
Helen: Well, I’ve got to get back to the counter before lunch. I left Lowell in charge. Last time I did that, he sucked all the pimentos out of the olives.
Helen gives Joe a kiss.
Helen: See you tonight.
Brian: She thought it was Lowell.
Joe: I can’t be here. I’ve got an airline to run.
Brian: Joe, just stop it. Just relax. Will you? Just stay where you are. Relax. I will take care of everything. Trust me.
Joe: Brian, the last time you said, “Trust me,” I wound up naked on I-95, tryin’ to flag down oncoming traffic.
Brian: But who pulled over for you?
A candy striper arrives.
Woman: Excuse me. Hi. Uh, I’m new here. Would you be Dr. Heilbron?
Brian: Yes, I am. And, nurse, I want this patient shaved immediately.
Joe: Look. Brian.
Woman: Well, I don’t know, doctor. I’ve never shaved anyone before. I—I thought I was just gonna pass out, you now, magazines and candy bars.
Brian: Well, as soon as you finish shaving him, just give him a butterfinger.
Brian: Shave him from head to toe. I want him as smooth as the day he was born.
Brian: I don’t know where I’m goin’ in yet, and, uh, I like to keep my options open.
Woman: Yes, doctor.
The candy striper leaves.
Brian: So, Joe, you were sayin’?
Joe: There, you see? Tha—Brian, that is exactly the kind of immaturity.
Brian: Come on.
Joe: And irresponsibility I’m talkin’ about. You don’t take anything seriously.
Brian removes his scrubs.
Brian: You know, Joe, I’ve been on call for 48 hours straight, did five gall bladders this morning. I’m surrounded by the stench of disease and death. Excuse me if I just want to laugh, just a little.
Joe: All right, shut up and get me down from this.
Brian: All right, all right. Joe, come on, now, look—
Brian removes his latex gloves. It makes a snapping sound.
Brian: Whoa! There’s a sound that’ll bring a grown man to his knees, huh? Come on, seriously, I know I goof around a lot, ok? But you need me now and I wanna come through for you.
Joe: Well, it’s not like I have a choice. All right. Ok.
Joe: Well, let me brief you.
Brian: All right.
Joe: There’s a schedule of all my daily activities in the bottom right-hand drawer of the desk.
Joe: It’s filed under “S” for schedule. Sub-headed “D” for daily. Now, the beauty of that system is—
Brian: Joe, Joe, Joe, Joe. I’m sure your system is as wonderfully efficient as it is excruciatingly self-explanatory. Everything is gonna be just fine.
Joe: Ok. Brian?
Brian: Forget it, ok. Just—just take it easy, brother. All right?
Brian kisses Joe on the forehead.
Brian: Behave! Goodbye.
Brian leaves. The candy striper returns with the shaving paraphernalia.
Woman: Now, I haven’t ever actually handled a straight-edged razor before, but if you just bear with me—
Joe: No, uh, no, wait. You know, you don’t understand. He was not a real doctor. That’s my—
Woman: It’s my first time, too. We’re both nervous.
Joe: No. No, no, no, no! You get that away from me!
The woman starts sharpening the razor.
Joe: Nurse! Nurse! Nurse!
At the Tom Nevers airfield, Brian is in the Sandpiper Air office talking on the phone.
Brian: We’ve come up with an idea that we feel sure that you and your students could really go for, Mr. Greely. Right. We are aiming for a Guiness World Record. The most High School band members stuffed into a twin-engine Cessna. That’s right. Now, it’ll be great publicity for Sandpiper Air, and it’ll give the kids memories that they’ll cherish for the rest of their lives, you know?
Kenny knocks on the Sandpiper Air’s office door. Brian signals to Kenny to come in.
Kenny enters the office carrying a plastic bucket.
Brian: Hmm. What? You wanna bring the mascot along? The band mascot is fine. The more the merrier.
Brian: Ok. See you after school.
Brian hangs up the phone.
Brian: How was the flight, Kenny?
Kenny: Ah, great, sir. And I finished handing out the promotional gifts.
Kenny lifts the bucket.
Kenny: To the passengers like you asked.
Brian takes out a live crab from the bucket.
Brian: Hmm, not a bad idea, hey?
Kenny: Oh, if I may say so, sir, painting crabs with the Sandpiper Logo was a stroke of genius. An inspired campaign.
Brian: Ah! Empty flattery. I like that in an underling.
Kenny: Thank you, sir.
Helen knocks on the door and enters the office.
Helen: Hi, guys.
Kenny: Hey, Miss Chapel. Have you seen our new promotional gimmick?
Helen: Ah! Blob of paint on the back of a crab. That’d make me fly your airline.
Brian: That is not a blob of paint. That is a Sandpiper.
Brian points at the logo.
Brian: Well, you try painting a moving crab.
Helen: Brian, I’ve got a gimmick for you.
Brian: Great. I like hearin’ new ideas. Let’s toss it around, see if it makes salad.
Helen: Why don’t you load all the passengers onto the plane
Helen: And then fly them where they wanna go?
Brian: That has been done to death, Helen. See, I am looking for fresh concepts. New ideas. It’s incredible. The floodgates are opening. The ideas are flowing. Kenny? Wings on the sides of planes. Why? Write it down. Write it all down.
Kenny: Got it, sir.
Brian: Oh, get a load of my master stroke. I’ve arranged promotional junket from a group of travel agents from the largest agency in Boston. An all expense paid trip to our charming and historic island of Nantucket courtesy of Sandpiper Air. In fact, I believe that Fay is escorting their well-fed bodies through our cobblestone streets, as we speak.
Helen: Brian, how can you afford that?
Brian: Afford? Come on. See, see, that’s Joe talk. Don’t you get it? We butter up these travel agents, we show ‘em a good time, and then they send all their business to us.
Kenny: Excuse me, Mr. Hackett. Does “Joe talk” have quotes around it?
Brian: It’s your call, kid.
Helen: I’m calling Joe.
Brian: No. Helen, Helen, Helen, please. Now, look, I know I’m not real well-known for coming through on things, but I wanna prove to Joe that I can do this. I wanna prove to myself that I can do this.
Helen: Have you considered you might be getting in over your head a little here?
Brian: You—you really have that little confidence in my ability?
Helen: “That little” implies that I have some. I have none.
Fay: Brian, I’m back with the travel agents. They had a wonderful time.
Brian: Seldom in life does one achieve such immediate vindication. Kenny! Go warm up the plane and start your pre-flight.
Kenny: Aye, aye, sir. I never doubted you for a minute.
Brian: Kid’s a natural suck-up. So, they all had a really nice time, huh?
Fay: Oh, yes. They enjoyed the cranberry bog—
Fay: And the whaling museum, but they really loved it when I took them through Herman Melville’s house.
Brian: Fay, Herman Melville never lived on Nantucket.
Fay: He didn’t?
Brian shakes his head.
Fay: Well, that certainly explains why that lady in the towel was screaming at us.
Helen: Ok, ok, ok. So you pulled this one thing off.
Brian: Thank you. Thank you very much. And who knows, maybe some of the things that I’ve set in motion will actually pan out, and maybe by the time Joe gets back here, Sandpiper will no longer be a one-plane operation.
Kenny runs back to the office.
Kenny: Mr. Hackett! The plane’s missing!
Brian: See? What do you mean the plane is missing?
Kenny: Well, it was out on the tarmac a few minutes ago, but—but now it’s gone.
Brian: Well, then the plane can’t be missing, bubbala.
Kenny: Oh, my mom’s always complaining that I’m losing things. First my jacket at the park, then my baseball glove, now the plane.
Brian runs back to the office.
Brian: The plane is missing!
Helen: Oh! You lost the plane?
Brian: No, I—I…
Helen: You lost Joe’s plane? How could you lose the plane, Brian? Tell me, how could you lose a plane?
Brian: What did I ever see in you?
Fay enters the office.
Fay: Brian, do you want to say a few words to the travel agents before they leave?
Fay: Uh, then I should go ahead and start loading them.
Brian: Mmm, no.
Fay: Are we having a problem?
Helen: Actually, Fay—
Brian covers Helen’s mouth to stop her from talking.
Brian: Kenny ate one of Helen’s clam burritos for lunch and he’s payin’ the piper right now. Now, listen, Fay, I really need you to stall these people out there. Why don’t you sing them one of your Irish folk songs, hmm?
Fay: I think I can be a little more clever than that.
Fay leaves the office.
Brian: Ok, Kenny, I want you to hop on your bike. I want you to turn this airport upside down. We’ve got to find that plane.
Kenny: Yes, sir.
Brian; And, Kenny, I don’t wanna put any pressure on you, but you lost it, you find it or else I’ll hunt you down and I will kill you!
Kenny leaves. Helen makes her way out the door.
Brian: Helen, Helen. Helen, Helen! You’re not gonna call Joe, are you?
Helen: What, and tell him you lost the plane? Are you out of your mind? You want me to give him a heart attack? All I can tell you buddy, is you better find the plane, and find it fast!
Helen makes her way out the door. Outside, Fay is singing.
Helen turns to Brian.
Helen: Real fast.
Brian: It’s a big plane. Has to be here somewhere.
Brian sighs, looks up, and puts his hands together in prayer.
Brian: Look, I know I probably don’t deserve this, but if you could just give me a few minutes of peace, I can really sort this out.
There’s a knock on the door. A man in suit enters the Sandpiper Air office. Fay is still singing in the background.
Fay: …Irish lullaby
Hanson: Hi. Inspector Hanson from the F.A.A. A little spot inspection. Surprise.
Brian looks up.
Brian: Thanks. Exactly what I had in mind.
Moments later, Fay is still singing. An irritated woman is at the Sandpiper Air counter with her head resting on her hand.
Fay: “Oh, Danny boy…Oh, Danny boy, I love you so”
Brian runs to the terminal from the gate, and claps his hands. He runs to Helen at the lunch counter.
Brian: Helen, Helen, I just checked every hangar. I checked every corner of the airport. It’s not here. The plane is not here.
Helen: Well, did you—
Brian: The plane is not here!
Man: Hey, Hackett.
Man: You’re the one who arranged this little junket for us, right?
Brian: Yes, sir. Yes, sir.
Man: Well, we’ve heard Molly Malone sing every Irish ditty since the potato famine. Now, when are we getting out of here?
Brian: Very soon, sir. Very soon. If you just bear with me, just for a few minutes. A few minutes.
Brian runs over to Roy at the Aeromass counter.
Brian: Roy, you got any extra seats on your 4:15 to Boston?
Roy: Mmm-mmm. Why? What’s wrong?
Brian: Oh, nothing.
Hanson: Mr. Hackett.
Brian: Excuse me.
Hanson: Mr. Hackett, if I don’t get on your plane to inspect your pilot’s log in 10 minutes, you’ll be facing a possible suspension, a stiff fine, or both.
Brian: Sir, I told you it is on its way. My pilot is encountering some heavy headwinds from Martha’s Vineyard. In fact, he’s actually lost ground in the last 5 minutes.
Hanson: Mr. Hackett. Are you blowing sunshine up the government’s skirt?
Brian: No, no, no, no, no.
Brian: Let me buy you a cup of coffee.
Hanson: No, thank you.
Brian: Oh, really? Well, that’s too bad ‘cause that cute blonde behind the counter keeps asking me who’s the blade in the power tie.
Brian: Absolutely, oh. Enjoy.
Fay: Brian, Bri—I—I don’t understand this. Why haven’t we taken off yet?
Brian: Fay, Fay, Fay, the travel agents can’t know this, but—
Brian: But the plane is missing.
Fay: The plane’s missing?!
Roy: Their plane’s missing. Oh, this is even better than I thought.
The travel agents gather around Brian.
Man: Your plane is missing?
Brian: Oh, no. you know, I don’t know how these rumors get started. We’re just doing a—a small, little pre-flight safety adjustment. Now, if you’d like me to bypass that…
Man: No, no, l-look, just—just—just step on it.
Brian: Fine, fine. Thank you very much for your patience. Thank you. You all look great. Fay, I want you to get on the horn right now. I want you to see if you can rent a plane, but don’t let anybody know what we’re doin’ otherwise we’re dead meat.
Fay: What do you mean, “we”, paleface?
Lowell: Psst, Brian.
Lowell signals to Brian to come over.
Brian: Yes, yes, yes, yes. What is it, Lowell?
Lowell: Your problems are over.
Brian: You found my plane?
Lowell: Even better. Brian Hackett, meet Peggy McCloskey. Housewife, town psychic.
Brian: Oh, no. You didn’t bring me a psychic. Lowell!
Peggy: Mr. Hackett, I’m no charlatan. I’m just an ordinary housewife with paranormal powers. I can neither explain nor control.
Brian: What the hell. What the hell. Do you know where my plane is?
Peggy: Let me see. Now, the plane was once in your hangar.
Lowell: Whoa! Has she stepped over from the other side or what?
Peggy: I need to feel something that’s been in the plane.
Lowell: Brian’s been in the plane.
Peggy puts her hand on Brian’s face.
Roy on P.A.: Attention, weary travelers. Tired of waiting for flights that never leave? Fly Aeromass’ comfort service to Boston. The plane’s right outside the gate. You can see it. There it is.
The travel agents run to the Aeromass counter. Brian tries to stop them.
Brian: Folks, folks, folks, folks, please, please, please, don’t go.
Man: Well, give us one good reason why we shouldn’t.
Brian: One of his pilot’s is narcoleptic, and this man constantly denies it.
Roy: He’s lying!
Brian: See! The cover-up continues. Phenomenal. Just have a seat. All of you, your flight will be leaving shortly.
Kenny: Mr. Hackett.
Brian: Did you find it? You find the plane?
Kenny: Oh, no, but I hit a huge pothole out on the taxiway. Man, I really trashed my bike.
Fay: Oh, dear, I better have a look.
One of the travel agents comes up to Brian.
Woman: If you ever expect to get another booking from my travel agency, you’d better get us out of this damn terminal.
Brian: And miss the floor show? It’s just about to begin.
Fay aids Kenny.
Kenny: Ow! Not the iodine. It stings! It stings!
Hanson is at the lunch counter talking to Helen.
Hanson: If you travel with me, you don’t have to go through the metal detector.
Brian arrives with Helen’s cello.
Brian: Ladies and gentlemen, the Sandpiper V.I.P. lounge is proud to present the exotic musical stylings—
Brian: Of Helen Chapel and her enchanted cello.
Helen: Brian, what are you—
Brian: Helen, you just have to help me stall for a few minutes.
Helen: No, I don’t.
Brian: Yes, you do.
Helen: No, I don’t.
Brian: Well, then, fine. You’ll just see Joe on conjugal visits. Fine.
Helen: What are you talking about?
Brian: Don’t you see? He finds out about this, he kills me, goes to prison, and then you’ll only see him once a month in those sweaty old trailers. Is that what you want? That’s fine.
Roy watches Brian and Helen.
Brian: Look, Helen, Helen, Helen, please. If our relationship means anything to you…
Brian: I love you. Oh, and uh, don’t play any of that classical stuff. You know, keep it peppy, pep…
Brian grabs food from the lunch counter and runs over to the travel agents.
Brian: Hi, hi. Oyster crackers. Take one. Pass ‘em on. Oyster crackers.
Helen: Any requests?
Roy: How about the theme song from Missing?
Brian is talking to Fay at the Sandpiper Air counter.
Fay: I’m sorry, Brian.
Brian: Don’t tell me that.
Fay: I talked to every rental outfit on the island. There are no planes for rent.
Helen starts playing classical music.
Brian: Oh, God.
Fay: But if you ever need to rent a dialysis machine, I know just the place.
A woman arrives at the terminal escorted by a policeman.
Woman: I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard these voices saying something about Moby Dick.
The woman sees the travel agents and points to them.
Woman: There they are! They’re the ones that broke into my house.
The woman sees Fay and points at her.
Woman: And there’s the ringleader.
Fay: Uh, I’m—I’m not taking the rap for this, Brian.
Brian: Uh, officer, I can explain everything.
A playing marching band arrives.
Brian: Almost everything.
The head of the marching band goes over to Brian.
Mr. Greely: Hello. I’m Mr. Greely, Director of the Siasconset High Marching Mules.
Roy: Hackett, what is goin’ on here?
Brian: Think I forgot to make a phone call.
Mr. Greely: Where’s the plane?
Brian: Ah, that seems to be the question of the day. It’ll be here shortly just—just—I tell you what, guys, in the vernacular of music, take 5.
A phone starts ringing.
Mr. Greely: Where do you want Esther?
Brian: Esther. Just…can’t she wait in here with the rest of you?
Mr. Greely: Ok, if you say so.
Roy: Hackett, the control tower just called. I have got a plane trying to park, but your junior pilot left his bike on the taxiway.
Hanson: Mr. Hackett, my patience is wearing thin.
A mule enters the terminal and it starts braying.
Brian: What the hell is that?
Mr. Greely: That’s Esther, the mascot of the Marching Mules.
Brian: Things are starting to unravel here.
Brian runs out to the runway.
Brian: The bike. The bike.
Joe arrives at the terminal. Helen continues to play the cello. One of the passengers drops change into her coffee mug.
Joe goes over to Fay at the Sandpiper Air counter.
Joe: Fay. What is all this?
Fay: Joe, you’re back.
Joe: Oh, yeah. It’s much better. Thanks.
Fay: No, I mean you’re back. You’re here in the flesh.
Joe: Oh, yeah. Yeah. The doctor sent me home earlier than expected.
The police handcuffs Fay.
Joe: Hey, what the hell is going on here?
Helen: Uh, what do you mean?
Lowell: Joe, your back.
Joe: Yes, Lowell, I am.
Lowell: No, I mean your back. How is it?
Joe: Fine. It’s fine.
Brian enters the terminal through the gate hauling with him Kenny’s bike. Brian sees Joe. He throws the bike outside, and runs to Joe.
Brian: Joe, you’re back.
Joe: Yes, my stupid back is fine and I’m here, damn it! Now, would you tell me what is going on?
Hanson: All right, Hackett that’s it. Time’s up.
Everybody gathers around Brian and starts chattering.
Peggy: You’ve been in the plane.
Peggy puts her hand on Joe’s face.
Joe: Brian, we need to talk.
Brian enters the hangar with her back turned as he faces Joe to try and explain things.
Brian: Joe. Joe, Joe, Joe. I—I—I could give you a very long song and dance about what you saw out there. Some of it might even be true, but—but it all boils down to this. I don’t know why. I don’t know how. But the plane is gone.
Joe: What are you talkin’ about?
Brian: The plane is—
Brian turns his back around and sees the plane parked inside the hangar.
Brian: Here. It’s gone here. It’s here now.
Brian goes over to the plane, and starts crying.
Brian: Thank you for being here. Oh! Oh, thank you, God.
Joe: Well, why wouldn’t it be here? Of course, it was gone earlier, right?
Brian: Yeah. Y—you know about that?
Joe: Well, yeah, the guys from New Bedford came and took it out for its 100-hour check, didn’t they?
Brian: They did? They did! Of course, they did.
Joe: Why—why are you so surprised? It was all in the daily schedule.
Brian: The daily schedule. Whoa, I’m telling you, Joe, ‘cause without that daily schedule, I wouldn’t know what I was doing. That’s really good. The daily schedule! Look. I just have a few loose ends to tie back there, and by the way, do we have enough petty cash lying around for bail money? D—don’t even worry about that! You look great. Good to have you back.
Helen runs inside the hangar to Brian. She gasps.
Helen: The plane’s back!
Brian: I know that. God loves me.
Joe: Helen, d-did I see a mule out there?
Joe: The band and the—the policeman and the woman with the—
Joe puts his hand on his face just like what Peggy did earlier.
Helen: Don’t worry about that. Brian’s gonna take care of this. It’s good to have you back.
Joe: It’s god to be back. I think.
Helen and Joe prepare to hug and kiss.
Joe: Mmm, oh, oh, uh, careful. Doctor put you on my list of don’ts for another week.
Helen: Oh, right. Sorry. Joe, didn’t you used to have hair on your arms?
Joe: It’s a long story.
This is not the actual script. This is my own transcription of the episode. The “My Brother’s Back – And There’s Going To Be Trouble” episode was written by Bill Diamond & Michael Saltzman. Wings is owned by CBS Studios Inc., Paramount Pictures and Grub Street Productions.
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