Blindfolded Richard Pratt swirls the salty liquid around in his mouth and spits it out. “Oh, this is a very good-humored fellow!” he exclaims. “A benevolent cheerful little chap! A bit naughty!” Well, I’m glad he got to know the guy before blowing — oh wait, he is one of those pretentious wine snobs assigning human characteristics to a cocktail of decaying vegetation.
He further identifies the wine as a 1959 German [1]. The TV host says he has gone four for four. The show is watched by Sybil Schofield and teenage daughter Louise, who are expecting him to join them for dinner. Louise complains that Pratt is boring, and always stares at her without looking like George Clooney. [5]
Louise goes to the study to ask her father what sort of glasses they should use because Pratt is just the kind of humorless dilettante [3] that would not see the whimsy in my vintage Flintstone jelly glasses. Schofield is preparing for Pratt’s challenge by masking the bottles like [insert COVID reference here]. [4]
While the Schofields wait for Pratt to join them and American writer Peter Bligh for dinner, Pa Schofield explains that at every gathering he challenges Pratt to identify the vintage of a mystery wine. So far Pratt has beaten him every time.
Louise answers the door. While Pratt has her alone, he gives her a gift, his new book about — surprise! — wine . . . to a girl too young to drink (well, in our backward country that looks down on giving alcohol to minors and windowless vans, anyway). The repulsive old man has inscribed it “from an admirer.”
Before dinner, they prepare for the wine-tasting. Schofield knows to give Pratt a bottle of soda water so that he may “sponge out the palate and scour out unwanted tastes” . . . such as famously decaying British choppers, presumably. Being a refined English gentleman, Pratt takes the bottle to another room to gargle and spit in the shitter. [2]
Inexplicably, however, he then has some appetizers and a Mosel Riesling before the big event. Schofield retrieves the wine from the study where it has been assuming room temperature. To be fair, they did explain why it had to be that room.
Schofield is confident he will stump Pratt this time. He does not even think it would be sporting to have their usual wager. However, Pratt is so cocky that he insists on raising the stakes. Rather than the usual ante of one case of wine, he proposes fifty cases and a box of Slim Jims! Then Pratt proposes £10,000! However, his real proposal is that the stakes be “the hand of your daughter in marriage” as he is tired of his own hand.
Schofield protests that Pratt has no hot underage daughter of his own to wager against Louise . . . no, seriously, he does. Pratt counters that he will put up his house to match the bet. Obviously Louise is not on board. Her father explains to her why this is a sure thing.
The claret is poured for each person. Pratt does his usual tasting, savoring, swirling. He pronounces it a “very interesting little wine, gentle, gracious, almost feminine in its aftertaste”. He deduces it is from Bordeaux, then slowly and methodically deduces the exact year, location, rue, and the pronouns of the vintner. He nails it!
Louise quite reasonably bolts out at the prospect of marrying this disgusting old fool. The housekeeper then enters and hands Pratt his reading glasses . . . which she found in the study!
Schofield picks up the other bottle and raises it over Pratt’s head. He perfectly sells that he is going to bash Pratt’s head in, but at the last moment, merely dumps the contents on him. Again, the jaunty closing theme is the perfect punctuation. Strangely, this amusing cop-out makes me more appreciate the ending of a different TOTU episode. Surely, the cut-away in Neck is confirmation that a head is about to roll. Cut-away indeed!
Another perfectly fine episode that I will never watch again or recommend to others. This is what Ray Bradbury Theatre could have been with a bit more edge.
Of course, the final word in human trafficking comes from the Odd Couple, linked below. Well, you know, except for slavery and stuff.
Other Stuff:
- [1] If there was a famous German born in 1959, I couldn’t find ihm / ihr / sie. [UPDATE: Found one — that’s what took seven months.]
- This episode is labeled as “TOP RATED” in the always-suspect IMDb episode list.
- [2] OK. the loo. The fact that, in 10 seconds of research, I could not find a clip of Ted Baxter saying Looouuuu makes me question this whole internet thing.
- [3] Mea Culpa: Dilettante does not mean precisely what I thought.
- [4] That’s not a Bidenesque literalism, I just couldn’t think of anything I liked in seven months.
- [5] George Clooney was my instinctive reference. That seemed ridiculous, so I changed it to David Cassidy (1970’s teen idol). Then I saw that Clooney is now actually a little older than Pratt, so it makes perfect sense (but a far finer specimen). So I changed it back.
- Ron Moody (Pratt) starred in Mel Brooks early forgotten film, The Twelve Chairs.
As they drive, the POM efficiently detects the viewing in each house. All is well until one house is determined to be watching channel 84, which was never assigned by the FCC. [1] You might ask then why there is even an 84 on their dial? Well, I’d like to know why my Toyota’s speedometer goes to 160 MPH. [5]
That night, Wallaby is still trying to figure out how he was getting a signal from Channel 84. His beautiful girlfriend has an idea: Go back and see what was being transmitted on Channel 84. Wallaby, the driver, a camera-man, and the cute girl crowd into the micro-bus. The result is not what I usually see from this scenario 
Wallaby is visited by a man from the government. He says he works “for the agency that investigates UFO”. Singular. He repeats, “UFO, Unidentified Flying Objects.” So I guess the O used to include the S. Since this was filmed before the Bill of Rights — hey, my public school education pays off again — they go back to search Rohrbach’s apartment.