Well, it did take a heap out of me, Jed, throwing them spells.

Sure, Uncle Jed.

It ain't that, Jed.

Well, the first thing you know, old Jed's a millionaire.

Kept yours on a mite too long, didn't you, Jed?

The Beverly Hillbillies.

Oh, I was only spoofing, Uncle Jed.

The kinfolk said, Jed, move away from there.

Oh, hey, Uncle Jed, shouldn't we bring along old Duke?

Show him what my hair-growing polis did for you, Jed.

Remember I whacked off Jed's hair clear across the back there?

Well, now it's time to say goodbye to Jed and all his kin.

Why, he yanked my poultice off his head and throwed it out the window.

Gesso, you call Mr. Drysdale at his bank, and you tell him to send over your Uncle Jed's $35 million right away.

Hillbilly, that is.

Don't leave Beverly Hills.

A lawnmower.

No, just a high school band, a few horses, a few banners.

A $5 ticket?

Set a spell.