The Beverly Hillbillies.

Oh, please, please, don't go back home.

We got a good one back home.

Won't you say we all get a good night's sleep and we start out for home first thing in the morning?

Now, Granny, I realize that back home, you are considered a doctor.

How many of my critters can I take back home with me?

But I've got enough for a potus for you.

Hillbilly, that is.

Don't leave Beverly Hills.

My secretary's looking for a possum juggler.

I'm going back home, where folks appreciate your doctoring them back to health, and put his hair on their heads.

Granny just slipped her mind for a minute.

Like that ungrateful, good-for-nothing Clyburn feller.

Say, uh, Granny, it's coming on for nightfall.

But this is Beverly Hills.

We ain't gonna be late for the parade, are we?

I reckon he's going to join us for the parade.

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

You see, I really came to deliver a message for Granny.

They would like to thank you folks for kindly dropping in.