The King is Dead

Milo Meatloaf; or

Charles’s Head is Disappearing Into His Hair

(a recap by Will Kaiser)

Title: The King is Dead

Airdate: November 12, 1979

Written and directed by Michael Landon

SUMMARY IN A NUTSHELL: It’s a clash of the titans when amateur wrestler Jonathan Garvey turns pro.

RECAP: First things first, very sad to hear news of Melissa Sue Anderson’s husband Michael Sloan passing away. Best wishes to MSA and her family.

And now, we begin.

During the opening-credits sequence, Carrie falls down the hill.

AMELIA: I don’t like the sound of that.

WILL: Of what?

AMELIA: That musical “pew.”

WILL: WHAT? Why?

AMELIA [laughing]: Because it’s absurd.

DAGNY: You know what it is, they added that when Mary went blind, so all the blind viewers would know when Carrie fell.

Over the opening shot, David Rose (a past master at mock-ethnic tune-age) applies the strumming of a stringed instrument.

WILL: David isn’t wasting any time today.

ALEXANDER: No. David Rose, keeping us on our toes.

The strumming is not unlike that of the balalaika, which we last heard to represent the Ashkenazi Jewish heritage of Isaac Singerman.

But since the “ethnic” characters today are revealed to be Greek, I suppose this time it must be a bouzouki rather than a balalaika, or at least it’s meant to sound like one.

A door opens, and we see an oldish hand holding a bunch of freshish flowers.

The hand “cants” the flowers into a vase (as opposed to decanting them, you see).

ALEXANDER: So this is a Landon-directed episode, huh?

WILL: How on earth did you guess that?

ALEXANDER: This shot just screams Landon.

The camera pans to the face of an older lady asleep in bed. 

We see the owner of the oldish hand then.

He is oldish, true, with a big body and a hard face, but he also looks sad and worried.

In fact, he looks a bit like Rodin’s The Thinker come to life.

He sits by the bed, and manages a smile when the woman opens her eyes.

The woman says, “Milo” – pronounced Mediterranean-style, not American/British-style.

“Anna,” the man replies. 

There are a lot of Annas on this show, aren’t there? First we had Anna Simms, the old woman who may or may not have been a future projection of Caroline in “Going Home.”

Next came Anna Gillberg, the speech-impaired little girl who was one of Nellie Oleson’s most sympathetic victims.

Anna Mears was the mysterious teen mom whose baby was rescued and briefly cared for by Laura.

And just this season, Anna Craig was a feisty old gal who steamrolled Harriet Oleson and bullied her way into becoming the new Reverend Mrs. Alden – though we haven’t seen her since the wedding (and never will again).

So this Anna makes Number Five.

But names aside, in terms of overall effect, she might best be compared to Laura Colby Ingalls – in her post-“Dancing Grandma” days, that is. 

For this lady is clearly not just sleeping but ailing, either from age or from illness.

Milo sweetly compares her to Sleeping Beauty. (Somebody on the team has a real hard-on for that story recently.)

Milo, apparently Anna’s husband, gently tells her he’ll be traveling for a little while. 

We get a good look at him, and while his face is deeply lined, and as I said there’s something hard and rocklike about his head, there are the remains of a handsome man about him yet, as people used to say.

His news doesn’t go over very well with his wife, though.

“Will you wrestle again?” Anna asks with alarm. (This scene plays like a mashup of the openings of “Journey in the Spring” and “The Fighter.”)

“Anna,” Milo says. “I am strong.”

Anna widens her eyes in disbelief and says the only reason he’s still wrestling is to pay for her medical treatment. (She’s in the hospital, apparently.)

“I wrestle because I love it,” Milo shrugs, and Anna says with disdain, “What you do now is not wrestling. It’s not the Greco-Roman.” 

Her expression stiffens into one of disgust. “It’s a sideshow!” she says. (Hey, lady, this show likes sideshows!)

I’m sure many of you are aware that Hulk Hogan died recently. I never liked pro wrestling, but Hogan was an icon of my youth, along with other titans like Pee-Wee Herman, Max Headroom, and the Monchhichi, so it was hard not to feel a pang at his passing.

Also, our family loves American Gladiators, which Hogan hosted for a time (Amelia reminded me of that), and which Pluto TV used to carry but sadly doesn’t anymore.

Anyways, I mention Hogan because Anna’s objections to the “improper” turn wrestling has taken may be Landon’s comment on the sport’s devolution into a flamboyant, semi-scripted spectacle in the later Twentieth Century.

You may like the WWE or not – I couldn’t care less about it, but I guess I don’t really object. But it is true it’s a far cry from the classic Greco-Roman sport. 

I know nothing about wrestling, but my first wife came from a large family of G-R wrestlers (her uncle is an Olympian who got a bronze in the sport) so I’ve seen quite a lot of it, and heard far more about it than I ever wanted to. 

Adherents of the sport like to say it’s true to the ancient form practiced in classical antiquity, though that’s disputed. 

A friend of mine once described wrestling as “gay porn for smalltown straight men.” (Fortunately he was not within earshot of any actual smalltown straight wrestlers at the time.)

Either way, it appears the way Greco-Roman is done today was actually formalized in the 1840s. 

Whilst Anna complains about it, by the late Nineteenth Century the sport had instituted several safety practices you’d think she’d appreciate, such as banning scratching with fingernails and headbutting.

Well, there must be something inferior about how they’re wrestling in 1884-J, since Anna says, “Don’t tell me you love it.”

Milo simply shrugs and says nothing good ever stays the same forever.

Growing angrier, Anna says he’s choosing to degrade his beloved sport.

Milo begs her not to be angry with him, and rather caustically she says, “I am not angry at you. I am angry at me! At my sickness that makes you do this.” 

(Whether she means this or is just guilt-tripping him is not clear.)

(Anna is played by Nora Meerbaum, who while not really Greek nevertheless had some great credits, including Smokey and The Bandit, St. Elmo’s Fire, Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman, Webster and Hill Street Blues, as well as Becker, a show Amelia became bizarrely obsessed with as a small child. She recovered, thank goodness.)

(Perhaps Meerbaum’s most recognizable role was the uptight, elderly passenger in Airplane! who refuses whiskey because she prefers something stronger.)

Milo comforts Anna, and kisses her goodbye.

He exits and walks through the hospital hallway.

AMELIA: Is this the Blind School?

Indeed, the hall bears a certain resemblance to blind schools I’m acquainted with in Winoka, Dakota Territory, and Burton, Iowa. 

Perhaps there was a blind-school-and-hospital architect who went on a Midwest spree around that time, or something.

Milo stops to leave his forwarding address with a friendly nurse. 

The Friendly Nurse is Jennifer Rhodes, an actor with an enormous resume. 

She had recurring roles on Fame, L.A. Law, 3rd Rock From the Sun, and The Young and The Restless, and did one- or two-offs on The Days and Nights of Molly Dodd (anybody remember that?), Knots Landing, Friends, Gilmore Girls (a spiritual ancestor of Walnut Groovy for sure), Grey’s Anatomy, Grace and Frankie and NCIS.

She semi-regularly played a ghost grandma, apparently, on Charmed.

She was in The Towering Inferno and played Winona Ryder’s mom in the Patrick Labyorteaux/Shannen Doherty vehicle Heathers. 

She’s quoted as saying that in addition to her Charmed and Heathers roles, she might be best known for a part in “a horror film I don’t wish to discuss.”

I doubt very much she’s referring to the original Halloween (who wouldn’t want to discuss that?), though she was in that film, technically. She played a nurse in Michael Myers’s old digs, the Smith’s Grove Warren County Sanitarium, in a deleted scene. (The research I undertake for you readers!)

But I’m certain Rhodes was referring to Night of the Demons II, best known to Little House fans as Gelfling Ginny Clark and Joshua Bond’s first and only buddy picture.

In the movie, Rhodes plays an ass-kicking Mother Superior/exorcist who wields a rosary like nunchuks (get it?) and throws water balloons filled with holy water. 

I don’t know why Rhodes wouldn’t wish to discuss what looks like about the best role in the history of entertainment, but that’s for her to decide, of course.

Well, Nurse Friendly (some ancestor of Ed’s?) goes into Anna’s room and tries to administer her meds, but she refuses them. 

Nurse F addresses her as “Mrs. Stavroupolis” – not the traditional spelling. Blame Ellis Island, I guess. 

(The only Stavropoulis I’m familiar with is Argyron Stavropoulis, the genteel Satanist who turns up for the party at the end of Rosemary’s Baby.)

Nurse Friendly threatens, rather unfriendlily, to go get a doctor. 

But Anna, who I suspect is not exactly a stranger to ass-kicking herself, says, “Get the doctor. He’ll find out – it’s no use to argue with Anna Stavroupolis.” 

DAGNY: Can I start saying that in work meetings?

The next shot we get is of the old Number Three chugging away at a rapid rate of speed.

Onboard, we see a man tucking in to a huge bowl of fried chicken.

The chicken looks quite fresh. I pity the cook who has to deep-fry on a moving train.

The man himself looks like Dean Butler wearing a false nose.

He’s eating this meal in what looks to be a private or semi-private compartment. 

Sharing the cabin with him are Milo Stavroupolis and Ray Walston.

Yes, Ray Walston! If you can remember the Twentieth Century, you probably remember how he popped up in everything for about forty years straight.

Older readers (sorry) might recall him as Uncle Martin, the lead on the Odd Couple-ish My Favorite Martian.

On TV he did – brace yourselves – You Are There, Ben Casey, The Mod Squad, Mission: Impossible, The Six Million Dollar Man, Starsky & Hutch, The Incredible Hulk, Buck Rogers, The Littlest Hobo (Dagny’s favorite), Trapper John, M.D.,  Fame, Silver Spoons, Gimme a Break!, Simon & Simon, Hart to Hart, Night Court, St. Elsewhere, Newhart, Santa Barbara, The Smurfs, Murder, She Wrote, Star Trek: The Next Generation and Voyager, ALF, 21 Jump Street, I Know My First Name Is Steven (my God, that takes me back), L.A. Law, Stephen King’s The Stand (!), Friday the 13th: The Series (!!), Parker Lewis Can’t Lose (!!!), Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, Ally McBeal, Touched by an Angel, and 7th Heaven.

He was on Love Boat AND Fantasy Island.

Many others too. He was also a regular on Picket Fences.

Moviewise, he was in South Pacific, Damn Yankees, Paint Your Wagon, The Sting, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, and Of Mice and Men (Malkovich version).

He was in Galaxy of Terror, a Roger Corman horror film notorious for a scene I don’t want to discuss.

Robert Altman liked working with Walston, and he was in O.C. & Stiggs, The Player and (the underrated) Popeye. 

Poopdeck Pappy is my favorite Walston character, but it’s no exaggeration to say he was great in everything.

Anyways, this scene quickly establishes the roles of these three: Walston the crafty manager, Fake-Nose Dean Butler a cocky, rude younger wrestler, and Milo just enduring the bullshit of the other two.

It also establishes their game is a racket: tricking hayseeds into first betting on a match rigged for them to win, and then betting their winnings on a match they’re sure to lose.

The local farmers “have had a good harvest this year,” Ray Walston says (so we must be into the fall).

The greasy, chicken-eating Not-Dean, who speaks with a German accent, seems to relish the idea of cheating rubes almost as well as he relishes his chicken.

We then beam to Mankato itself, where Charles and Jonathan Garvey are rolling into town via Chonkywagon.

The city seems to have grown since previous visits. It’s big and busy, more like Deadwood (town not show) when the Grovesters briefly lived there in 1876-E. (How long ago that seems.)

In fact, at least one of the buildings we immediately see, the Brower Hotel, is identical to one we noticed in Deadwood.

And like Deadwood and that other Dakota Territory den of iniquity, Winoka, Mankato now has a nonstop soundtrack of ragtime.

It also has a large cactus, which made us cackle. 

Actually, cacti are not completely unknown in Minnesota. They are rare, and we only have small ones, not the big phallic ones you get in the desert.

Well, it seems cacti did exist in the Mankato region once, so I guess I’ll allow it.

Our Grovesters pass by an Edward & Dunn Clothing Bazaar. (Deadwood also had one of those. Probably a popular chain, like T.J. Maxx.)

Charles pulls up to the Mankato Freight Co and parks.

Garvey says he’ll start unloading, but suggests Charles head “over to Mooney’s” to see if some saws they’ve ordered is in. (Mooney must be one of them hardware cocksuckers, common in the day.)

(Interestingly, in “There’s No Place Like Home,” Charles mentions a town called Mooney.) (I couldn’t find the picture, but take my word for it.)

Charles walks off, passing a Levi Strauss Tailor shop (Springfield also has one of those) that apparently buys used hosiery. 

As he walks out of the shot, Ray Walston and Milo Stavroupolis come out of a saloon.

Walston says to Milo that he’s having trouble finding a suitable patsy in the town.

Walston then spots Jonathan Garvey unloading big flour sacks by himself.

Milo nods that Garvey seems a suitable candidate, then walks over and starts harassing him.

Dippy, dopey Grovester that he is, Garvey is happy to write this off as “an accident” . . . so Stavroupolis kicks his ass, literally.

DAGNY: Whoa!

Then he smashes a heavy bag of flour over him.

AMELIA: What the hell!

ALEXANDER: Milo mad.

Garvey fights back then, and Ray Walston starts flitting around the boardwalk chirping “Hey, fight, fight!”

All the men in town come running. I notice the Sicilian Peasant, introduced in Winoka but last seen working in Tipton, is amongst them.

So is a Timothée Chalumeaux lookalike.

Mustache Man is there too.

Walston sneaks around the crowd, stage-whispering that the older fighter is Milo Stavroupolis, the famous wrestling champion!

We get a good view of a number of interesting-looking Mankato characters.

There’s one who looks like Clint Howard, and another who looks like Victor Kiriakis. (Also Greek!)

Another, a farmer with a heavily-weathered face, attends Walston’s chittering with interest.

Axl Rose is there.

As is a youngish man who looks like a blond Pedro Pascal.

A young cowboy in a Buster Scruggs getup who has hair like William Katt seems to agree that Jonathan Garvey could  beat “the champion, Hans Mueller” – presumably Fake-Nose German Dean.

Finally, there’s a tall young man with brilliantly white (if huge) teeth.

The William-Katt-Haired Buster Scruggs Cowboy screams and screams as Garvey quickly defeats Stavroupolis.

A bunch of guys rush up to congratulate Garvey. No one pays attention to Milo, who it’s clear didn’t break a sweat during the fight. He nods to Walston that Garvey will do for a patsy.

The crowd disperses. (Unusually for a man on this show, Brilliant Teeth flails a bit coming down the freight company steps.)

Ray Walston scurries up to Garvey.

He informs him that the man he beat is the favorite to make it to the heavyweight wrestling championships.

He says Stavroupolis’s next match will be against “Hero Township’s best man a week from Friday.”

Introducing himself as “Jimmy Hart,” Walston says he’s identified Garvey himself as that “best man.”

The mention of Hero Township here is odd. Redwood County is divided into 26 townships, of which Hero Township (actually North Hero Township in the real world) is one of the southernmost. 

(I like how two townships down from North Hero there’s one called Charlestown.)

The township has an area of just 35 square miles; besides Walnut Grove, its only town is Revere (population 89 in the 2020 census), a place never mentioned on Little House. (Maybe for good reason; in real life, Revere wasn’t platted until 1886.)

But North Hero Township is about 80 miles from Mankato, which is itself spread across South Bend and Lime townships in Blue Earth County (two counties away from Redwood). Why the hell would wrestlers go to Mankato to find a Hero Township patsy?

Also, as others have pointed out, Mankato is actually about a three days’ drive from Walnut Grove, and yet as we get into the show’s later seasons it’s increasingly depicted as a sort of “big city next door,” with characters sometimes making trips back and forth in a single day.

Anyways, Ray Walston says Garvey’s already beaten Stavroupolis once, so it’ll be a cinch to beat him again. 

Considering what he’s seen today, he adds, he thinks Garvey can even beat the champion, Mueller.

Walston tells him he’ll get $100 ($3,300) if he beats Stavroupolis, and $300 (about $10,000) if he wins against Mueller.

“I ain’t never seen that kind of money!” Garvey says. (You’ll recall that when Garvey signed up to box Joe Kagan, the prize was just $50.)

Walston says not only is Garvey a shoe-in for the prize money, these fights will turn him into a celebrity.

Saying “I’ll need an answer today,” Walston invites Garvey to come see him in Room Fourteen of the Brower to discuss details.

He gives Garvey one last sly smile, and leaves him to grin stupidly as he gets back to work.

Smirking, Walston walks cheerfully down the boardwalk. He even checks out Christie Norton, who happens to be in town.

Milo materializes from an alley, and Walston reassures him the wheels are in motion.

After a break, Garvey fills Charles in on the opportunity.

Stupid Chuck raising no objection, the two head over to the Brower, where Christie is now checking in.

Up in Room Fourteen, Ray Walston is reading the newspaper, which, through one of those David-Lynchian quirks of the Little House TV universe, has an identical back page to the one Albert read whilst practicin’ his fine smoking skillz in “Blind Journey.”

There’s a knock at the door, and Walston smiles.

Garvey says he agrees to the proposal, and Walston says pleasantly, “Well, well! I thought you would.”

He produces a contract, and Garvey is amused to see he’s being marketed as “Big John Garvey.”

“It’ll be in every newspaper in Hero Township by tomorrow!” Walston says. (Since the only paper Hero Township has ever had, The Pen & Plow, was driven out of business by Charles Ingalls 23 stories ago, I’m not sure what he means.)

Garvey signs. (We can see the contract is actually one for a Twentieth-Century film production.)

Back in Walnut Grove, then, we see a wagon driven by Carl the Flunky crossing the thoroughfare, and his passenger, Seth Johnson, tosses a newspaper onto the steps of the Post Office.

The paper is the Mankato Clarion, and the headline, in suitably gigantic letters, reads Big John Garvey Fights For Title.

And the next thing you know, Harriet Oleson, dressed in Ladies’ Cut Pinky and gobbling like a turkey, is pushing through a crowd to get “Big John’s” autograph.

(It’s hard to identify everyone milling about, but at the least the group includes Miniature Art Garfunkel, a Medieval Peasant Woman, the Alamo Tourist from Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure, the Midsommar Kid, Gelfling Boy, and the Kid Who Looks Like a Weeble.)

Mrs. Oleson has never liked Garvey, but now she fizzes about having a homegrown “celebrity” in their midst.

Jonathan is modest, but Andrew Garvey, standing at his side, grins proudly.

“Practically everybody from Walnut Grove is going to Mankato to see you win!” Mrs. O says, turning for confirmation of this claim to Carl and Mustache Man, who nod politely. (And hilariously.)

Andy says his pa’s sure to win the match, and Charles, grinning, calls “Big John” back to work.

AMELIA: Charles is a handsome man.

WILL: You’re not the first person to have observed this.

As the crowd breaks up, Mustache Man says, “I think we’ll all make a killin’ on this fight!” and Carl replies, “I’m sure enough gonna put every dime I got on it – and maybe borrow some more!”

“Like stealin’!” Mustache Man chortles, and they both traipse off together. (I love when they get some lines.)

This gives Mrs. Oleson an idea. 

(We see today’s newspaper has the same back page as Ray Walston’s did in the hotel the week before.)

(We can make out some additional headlines. First, what’s surely a pithy opinion piece: An Interesting Letter From the North.)

(The other two stories we can decipher are tragic. One headline reads [Somebody] and Wife Killed.)

(The other reads Wreck in a Hurricane: The Schooner Golden Sheaf and Two of Her Crew Lost.)

(This was an actual incident in which a schooner with a crew of seven sank in a storm on the way from New York to the Virgin Islands.)

(The shipwreck happened in 1900, though – quite a bit after this story’s timeframe. Here’s a picture of what I believe is the actual vessel in happier times (1896):)

That night, Nels can’t sleep because Harriet’s up counting money from a cashbox. 

Annoyed, Nels gets up to use the W.C.

But before he can leave, Harriet lets it slip that she’s planning to bet the church treasury on the wrestling match.

“I won’t allow you to gamble with the church’s money!” Nels screams, but Harriet wisely replies, “It is not gambling. Gambling is when you can lose! Now, Big John can’t lose.”

“‘Big John’?” says Nels in disbelief.

She says this is an easy way to double the church’s coffers. (This is reminiscent of the time Laura tried to double the Sunday school collection in a pyramid scheme.)

We cut back to Mankato, where Milo is lying on his side in his hotel room.

WILL: They don’t even give him a blanket?

ALEXANDER [as MILO]: “Milo Stavroupolis needs no blanket.”

Ray Walston comes in, all excited about the upcoming scam. In fact, he’s annoyed Milo isn’t more excited about it himself.

Walston fucks off and we see there are tears streaming down Milo’s face.

Milo is played by Leo Gordon, who acted in literally hundreds of films and TV shows, many of which I’m sorry to say I never heard of.

Among those I have are Rin Tin Tin, Maverick, The Untouchables, Bat Masterson, Have Gun – Will Travel, The Rifleman, Rawhide, Death Valley Days, Bonanza, The Virginian, The Mod Squad, Gunsmoke, Adam-12, The Dukes of Hazzard, The Rockford Files, Fantasy Island, St. Elsewhere, and Wiseguy.

He was in some interesting movies I do know, including Big Top Pee-Wee and Alfred Hitchcock’s The Man Who Knew Too Much.

He played Captain William Quantrill (who figured prominently in Little House’s own Confederate apologia “The Aftermath”) in a movie about Quantrill’s Raiders.

Gordon was in a (very silly) movie called Kitten With a Whip that starred the (very sexy) Ann-Margret.

In real life he had a bit of a checkered past. He served in the U.S. Army during World War II; but he also served five years in San Quentin for armed robbery as a young man.

While he was always a popular character actor, his real passion was writing – a pastime he picked up in prison. 

He wrote several novels and episodes of shows including Bonanza and Adam-12.

He also wrote screenplays for some notable fifties horror films by Corman and company: The Wasp Woman (an interesting prototype for Demi Moore’s recent The Substance) and Attack of the Giant Leeches (an interesting prototype for movies with titles like Squirm and Slugs).

I have to give a shoutout to Leo Gordon’s daughter Tara, who maintains a wonderful Facebook page celebrating her dad and his career. That’s where I got all the excellent pictures.

Some have said he resembled Patrick Swayze, and it is so.

Leo sounds like a nice guy.

DAGNY: I feel like that note is very relatable.

And his performance is lovely in this story, I think.

Well, after a commercial we see a whole caravan of decorated wagons, led by Mrs. Oleson and Nels, arriving at the Old Sanderson Place to send “Big John” back off to Mankato.

The Garveys come out onto the lanai. 

Jonathan and Andrew are giggling, but Alice looks like a toad peed in her mouth.

Alice also objected to Jonathan’s participation in the Joe Kagan fight, you’ll remember.

I’m not saying she’s wrong, but she has been depicted as such a scold in recent stories that it’s hard to remember how she was introduced: as a fun, sort of rough-and-tumble alternative to Caroline and Grace Snider.

We will trace Alice’s full character evolution at a future date, though.

Anyways, Jonathan and Andy shrug off Alice’s pruniness, and as they board a buckboard, she touches her abdomen in a way that usually indicates a TV character is pregnant, you know, the same way any character who coughs is usually dead by the end of the episode. (On normal shows, that is. On Little House, characters have a 40 percent chance of dying regardless of their health.)

Jonathan turns sadly to Alice and says, “Will you wish me good luck?”

But all Alice will do is make toad-pee face again.

Jonathan makes a sort of toad-pee face of his own, and hits the ignition on the horses.

But before they’re out of the driveway, Alice does call out “Good luck!”, which is nice.

Back in Mankato, we see a guy wearing a sandwich board advertising the fight across from a Wells Fargo.

Apparently the victor will fight Mueller, the nasty German wrestler, the very next night in the same venue. (Wouldn’t the winner get at least a day to recuperate? Rigged!)

And since Ray Walston implied this was a national contest, why would both semifinals and championship take place in Mankato, Minnesota, of all places? 

But of course, the whole operation is a scam, so I guess Walston assumes no one will connect the dots; and of course he’s right, no one does.

Everybody starts cheering when the Big John Garvey wagons roll into town. 

I’d thought the wagons were just part of a local parade to send Garvey on his way, but no, apparently the whole caravan made the trip together. What do they have in these wagons? Just spectators from the Grove? 

(Note the Red Dog Cafe sign. Deadwood also had one; another chain?)

As I said, it’s a three-day trip by wagon each way, so this would be a pretty big time commitment for attendees. If Nels and Harriet both came, who’s running the Mercantile, for instance? 

And the Mill? For we see Pa and Albert have also come along on the trip.

Albert is excited about the match, and Pa says, “I could have wrestled this Stavroupolis fellow, you know.”

“You could?” Albert asks.

“Sure I could,” Pa says with a smile. “Just didn’t think you wanted to be an orphan again.”

As for Andy, he’s waving to the crowd like Princess Kate.

The crowd – all men, it seems – follows the wagons through the town. You’d think they’d have something better to do, but remember, no internet.

Inside the hotel, Hans Mueller is stuffing his face again, but Milo isn’t hungry.

Ray Walston, who’s also dining with them, laughs at the hubbub outside (there’s a band playing, though we didn’t see one).

“Sounds like a circus, don’t it!” he says.

“It is circus,” Milo says coldly.

Mueller rolls his eyes and says oh Milo, it’s just show business.

“And I am clown,” Milo says with a thrum of anger beneath the surface.

Mueller says he shouldn’t bitch so much, because he has the easiest job of the three. Mueller kind of has a face like an eagle.

“You think Milo Stavroupolis could not beat this farmer?” Milo says with rising emotion. “I was champion . . . all of Europe, I was champion!” 

Walston tries to settle the two down, but Mueller sneers, “Ja, that’s right – was.”

Milo jumps up and starts taking off his shirt to fight Mueller on the spot, but Ray Walston manages to assert authority.

Playing a powerful card, Walston says, “You wanna keep paying those hospital bills, don’t you, Milo?”

Unable to argue with that, Milo retires to his own room.

Surprisingly, Mueller says with what sounds like real admiration that Milo was his boyhood hero. 

But then, with ugly contempt, he says, “They should see him now.”

All three of these guys are good in this one. Mueller is John Robert “Jack” Yates, who was also on The Dukes of Hazzard, AND The Golden Girls, AND Parker Lewis Can’t Lose (!!!!!).

Additionally, he appeared on M*A*S*H (playing “Large Enlisted Man”), Hunter, Married . . . With Children , Knots Landing, and JAG (yes, the Patrick Labyorteaux vehicle).

He was on Highway to Heaven and in Michael Landon’s Us. (In the latter, Landon blinds him with soap and kicks him in the nards in a men’s room fight.)

Yates was in the movie The Rock, and also in a little-known horror comedy called Freaked that my friend Justin and I loved in college. (It’s also very pro-sideshow; another eighties icon, Mr. T, played a bearded lady in it.)

In fact, Justin and I once invited a French girl to watch it with us . . . a choice which I believe resulted in her deciding this whole “America” thing was a bad idea and moving back to Europe. (Mélisande, if you’re reading this, pardon. We didn’t mean to drive you from the continent!)

Anyways, Ray Walston says nothing, but gives Mueller his own look of contempt. 

DAGNY: This is a complicated story emotionally. The manager is evil, but he also doesn’t like hearing Milo insulted like that. And he knows it’s only a matter of time till Hans goes through the same thing.

The night of the match arrives, and we see they’ve set up a ring in a saloon. 

(It’s hard to say whether we’ve seen it before. If I was a betting man – getting into the spirit of the episode – I’d say it’s the Silver Slipper, Mr. Edwards’s preferred haunt.)

(It probably isn’t the Shamrock, the more modest establishment favored by Jonathan Garvey.)

(Of course, it might be Muldoon’s, which we’ve only seen from the outside.)

There’s quite a crowd already when Mrs. Oleson and Nels arrive.

Mrs. O heads straight to a guy taking bets. (He’s Charles Julian. Not in much else.)

“Isn’t this exciting?” she says delightedly, and Nels says “No!”

Garvey comes in, and the crowd cheers.

Mrs. Oleson jumps out of her seat and shrieks “Kill ’em!”

Nels shoves her back down and says, “It’s bad enough that you gambled with the Lord’s money, you don’t have to scream for blood on top of it!” (These two are pretty funny in this episode, if a little broad.)

The Olesons are sitting behind a fairly mature “saloon girl” and her two companions. (Her cleavage is pretty plush for Little House.)

There are a lot of saloon girls in the crowd; but otherwise, Mrs. Oleson seems to be the only woman present. And Andrew Garvey and Albert are the only kids.

Apart from the Garveys, Olesons and Ingallses, Carl and Mustache Man seem to be the only Grovesters there. (So why would they bring so many wagons? I suppose Carl and MM might have had other business in Mankato. It’s possible.)

Ray Walston brings Milo in then, brushing off a courier who has a letter for the wrestler.

AMELIA: Uh-oh.

The courier is Warner McKay, of H2H and Grizzly Adams fame.

People boo Milo as he gets into the ring.

Ray Walston jumps up and introduces the fight in an old-timey singy-songy style.

Milo is wearing a wrestling singlet, but Garvey is just in his regular clothes. Wouldn’t they give him a suitable outfit? Ray Walston can’t be that cheap, and obviously it would improve the show.

Walston points Mueller out in the crowd and says tonight’s victor will wrestle him tomorrow.

He notes that Mueller has a back injury, but, good sport that he is, has agreed to go through with the championship match anyway, winky winky.

Walston then says Milo “the Greek God” Stavroupolis once fought Mueller in Chicago, in a bout that lasted two and a half hours.

With that, he rings the bell.

Garvey and Milo grapple briefly, with Garvey throwing him to the floor a few times, very easily. Garvey wins.

In the stands, Mrs. Oleson actually punches Nels into catatonia, so enthusiastic is her cheering and other goofy business. (Like I said, a little broad.)

Once again, Milo is able to depart quietly – but this time he’s stopped by the courier with the letter.

On the wall, we see a wanted poster for someone named Curt Bukel. 

(This poster has popped up in other films, including a horror western called A Knife for the Ladies.)

We also see an ad for a marshal’s sale occurring on May 24th. Since this story is set in the fall, we can assume the sale happened earlier that year. (May 24th, 1884, was a Saturday, so that works perfectly.)

Milo slips into the night and reads the letter under the lamppost. It’s from Anna, and is addressed simply to Milo Stavroupolis, Mankato Hotel, Mankato, Minnesota.

Not to get off track, but Mankato actually has at least three hotels, or has had them over this show’s run so far: the Palace, the Grand, and now the Brower.

Yes, the buildings do look similar, but like I said, architect.

Anyways, my point is I wonder how long the letter took to get to the right hotel, but never mind the envelope.

The letter itself is the sort of communication you may have received from a beloved relative yourself at some point (I have), a lecture saying you’re ruining your life dressed up in words of love.

Mysteriously, Anna ends by saying “Always remember, Milo . . . living is a temporary state. Love is forever.”

Any annoyance or confusion Milo feels at this screed is vanquished by a note the doctor stuck into the envelope saying oh p.s., she died.

(Probably would have been better to deliver that first under separate cover. I’m just sayin’.)

On Milo’s face, tears and sweat become one. Sounds gross, but it isn’t.

He crumples the letter.

AMELIA: I don’t like that. He wouldn’t destroy the last communication from her.

Back in the saloon, some people dance abstractly to the ragtime.

Later, Jonathan Garvey is counting his winnings as Andrew, Charles and Albert lounge in his hotel room.

WILL: Who’s paying for these accommodations?

I mean, I guess Garvey is now; but what if he had lost?

Anyways, the towels by the door are a nice touch. In case the kids want to head down to the pool, no doubt.

Albert says the bookies have given major odds on Mr. Garvey winning the fight. (I don’t understand how odds are calculated, so don’t ask me to explain. What am I, C-3PO?)

Garvey is amazed how easy it was to win so much money, and begins fantasizing about how to spend it.

ALEXANDER: Is Garvey really this stupid? 

WILL: Charles isn’t.

DAGNY: Neither is Albert.

Indeed, while stupider than usual in this episode, Charles does point out here not to count one’s chickens, and so forth.

ALEXANDER: Charles’s head is starting to disappear into his hair.

Nevertheless, Garvey says he can’t wait to see Alice’s face when he gets home.

WILL: Why? We all know what it’ll be like.

But hark! There’s a knock at the door. Milo!

He politely asks to speak to Garvey in private, but Garvey says he doesn’t have to worry about his dopey companions’ discretion.

Milo gets right to the point, then, saying he let Garvey win.

Stupid Garvey just laughs at this. 

Charles doesn’t, though.

Milo reveals the whole scheme. (Leo Gordon’s got a great deep voice.)

Andy suddenly makes one of those “Leave my poppa alone!” speeches. 

ALEXANDER: Does Milo kill Garvey and then Andy tracks him down decades later for vengeance?

(Amelia asked me to mention here that we’ve seen Mandy Patinkin in concert, and so we have. He’s insane.)

Milo gently explains that in fact, Garvey will be lucky to escape the bout without serious injury.

ALEXANDER: Yeah. These guys are professionals.

Milo then volunteers to wrestle for Garvey, as a proxy. He says that’s the only chance the Grovesters have of making money on their bets.

Garvey is still dubious, though. 

But Milo is clearly tired of having to persuade people that objective, self-evident facts are the truth. (You should try living in 2025, Milo! Ha ha! Ha ha ha!)

So he cuts through the shit, saying, “We wrestle again. Now.”

Well, long story short, they all head over to the saloon, where, in a hilarious little exchange, they scare the janitor out of the building.

WILL: What time is it? The saloon is closed, but Andy and Albert are still up?

Credited as a “swamper” (a term for after-hours cleaning staff, apparently), the janitor is played by Frank Alten (credited here as “Frank X. Alten”), who was in a lot of strange movies in the 1940s. 

(I don’t recognize their names, so I’m not going to catalogue them. My apologies to those who only read Walnut Groovy for the long lists of titles; one has to draw the line somewhere.)

Milo and Garvey begin wrestling again, but this time Milo knocks him down with ease – again and again.

DAGNY: The lighting is great.

ALEXANDER: Landon.

Then, in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment of interest, Milo smacks Garvey on the ass! (Guess my friend was right about wrestling.)

AMELIA: Whoa! Did Milo just smack him on the ass?

WILL: I think so. I suppose it could have been his back.

DAGNY: Nah. No other body part makes a sound like that.

(She’s right. Try it yourself!)

Well, Milo so completely crushes Garvey that Andy rushes into the ring to stop the fight. (Sorry to break it to you, Andy – you couldn’t even beat a Jud Lar[r]abee, much less a Milo Stavroupolis.)

The rest of this scene is conducted with Milo actually sitting on Garvey’s back.

AMELIA: Is that really necessary?

Finally convinced, Garvey asks Milo if he can really beat Mueller, and he replies, “I am Milo Stavroupolis.” 

At Milo’s cue, David Rose lets loose with a melody which is similar to what I imagine the Greek national anthem must sound like. 

(This story is cheesy and a bit old fashioned, even for Little House, but I find it hard not to like. Leo Gordon is so good – he gives Milo such dignity. He almost has an aristocratic carriage here.)

Garvey looks to Charles, who gives a silent nod of approval.

WILL: Charles has been unusually quiet through this whole thing.

DAGNY: Yeah. An experienced mediator like him would have taken over right away.

The next day, Christie Norton drives by in a buckboard with Not-Clint Howard.

He’s no Zaldamo in the looks department. Then again, he probably doesn’t have a teenage psychopath stalking him either.

In an unusually awkward transition, David jumps from the epic Greek music to ragtime and then immediately back again.

In the hotel, Milo tells Ray Walston he’s quitting.

Surprised, Walston says he was thinking they’d repeat the game in Dakota Territory once finished in Mankato.

He brings up Milo’s sick wife again, but Milo simply says, “Anna is through with hospital.”

Walston shrugs and gets out his wallet. It can’t be more than $10 or $15 he hands over – not very much! Wouldn’t their pay be based on takings from the final scam?

Walston says he should at least come to watch the fight, and Milo says, “I will be there.”

In the street, Nels pleads with Harriet not to bet all her winnings on tonight’s match.

She says she won’t, but then she does.

Carl, we see, has just placed his own bet, and Mustache Man is keeping him company whilst drinking a beer.

Mustache Man then places his own bet: “Two hundred on Garvey!”

Seems like a lot, but we do know that in addition to delivering the mail, driving stagecoaches, managing emergency traffic, participating in posses, and the odd railroad maintenance, telephone pole-erecting, rabid-dog-killing, and bounty-hunting gigs, Mustache Man has a successful side enterprise growing wheat.

(No doubt the proceeds from all these industries add up. In fact, is it possible he is the mysterious wealthy Mr. Miller who’s played such an important background role in recent seasons???)

(And don’t you tell me we know that’s not Mustache Man’s name! (You’ll find out it’s no use to argue with Will Kaiser!))

(My point is, Mustache Man been called Jack, “Homer Bjorgsen,” “Ed Sullivan,” and possibly other names so far on the show, so why not this?)

Anyways, whilst Mustache Man is betting, Carl passes the time in conversation with Stanley Tucci.

Upstairs, Ray Walston is alarmed to find Mueller getting drunk.

ALEXANDER: He’s drinking Schnapps, I suppose?

Ray Walston says he’s concerned, but Mueller is belligerent, even threatening.

ALEXANDER: Wow, he’s just doing one shot after another?

WILL: Schnapps traditionally is served in very small glasses.

Actually, you can see he’s drinking Red-Eye-brand whiskey.

Walston says Garvey might beat him if he’s drunk, and Mueller scoffs, “I show you how tough this farmer is. I break his leg.” He really is a monster, isn’t he?

Meanwhile, we see Milo praying. “Give me strength one more time for Anna,” he says. “Let me be as I was . . . for last time.”

This is pretty clearly a reference to the Biblical story of Samson, a strongman whose secret power is his long hair. 

Samson gets shorn, loses his strength, is blinded, and prays a prayer identical to Milo’s. (Well, he doesn’t mention Anna Stavroupolis, and he wants to kill a woman, not please her, but there are other similarities.)

Devotees of Landoneana will know that the Samson story was of personal significance to Mr. L. He said in interviews that he always wore his hair long because he felt like Samson himself. 

In fact, he even called his (final) autobiographical film Sam’s Son! 

Well, one final commercial break, then we’re back ringside.

ALEXANDER: Was there ever a cockfighting episode?

WILL: I don’t think so.

Harriet Oleson, as always the epitome of elegance, blows her nose, then wipes the used hankie all over her face.

And neck.

Mrs. O compares herself to “Joan of Arc, carrying the cross into battle” in her faith that Jonathan Garvey will be victorious. (An odd comparison, but it is Mrs. O.)

Nels reminds her what happened to Joan of Arc.

Hans Mueller stands in the ring in an odd trench-coat-style robe. Looks more Inspector Gadget than . . . “Macho Man” Randy Savage? (I’m sorry, I really don’t know any wrestlers from after those days.)

Again, the crowd “screams for blood” – but when Jonathan Garvey arrives, his arm’s in a sling!

Rather unconvincingly, Garvey says, “I was injured in a freak accident at the hotel!” I’d love to know what kind of accident it supposedly was.

Ray Walston, who doesn’t mind in the least, says that by withdrawing from the contest, Garvey forfeits, and the house wins the pot.

“Hey, hold it!” cries out a voice of sanity from the crowd – you guessed it, Charles Ingalls.

WILL: Of course Chuck has to put in his oar.

Charles says, “It’s my understanding according to the rules, if the number-one contender can’t toe the line” – a saying we discussed in “The Fighter” – “he can designate another fighter.”

We’ve never seen Charles show an interest in wrestling before, and I think it’s pretty unlikely he’d have this rule memorized. But I guess he could have boned up on the subject during the three-day wagon ride to Mankato. Maybe Doc wrestled in college and had an old rulebook he leant him? (Doc seems kinda tall for a wrestler, but who knows? Olden days.)

Anyways, sensing a scam (it’s hard to con a con artist), Ray Walston warily says that’s true.

“I name Milo Stavroupolis!” Garvey shouts instantly.

Milo enters the ring. Walston frowns with growing realization, but Mueller just smirks.

I’m not sure if you noticed, but there’s a saloon girl in the background who has a very concerned look on her face.

Milo walks over to Garvey, and the two pat each other’s shoulders in manful communion.

WILL: The solidarity of the giants.

ALEXANDER: Yeah. It’s like a brotherhood.

Walston is powerless to stop the match, and when Milo shakes Mueller’s hand he says quietly, “This time, I not wrestle like clown.”

This fight lasts just over a minute. Mueller gets thrown to the floor twice, then Milo picks him up and squeezes the breath out of him, Mueller pummeling him the whole time.

In the crowd, some giddy idiot shrieks and jumps in the air, and Not-Axl Rose shoves him to the floor.

Well, Milo wins.

In the stands, Harriet is so thrilled she punches Nels out again.

The crowd starts chanting, “Milo! Milo!”

But Milo don’t look too good.

WILL: Uh-oh. It’s John Henry again.

The fans cheer and cheer. It’s funny, two additional characters get credits here, but I can’t tell for the life of me who they are.

One, “Farmer #1,” is played by Roy Gaintner.

And the other is identified as “N.D. Man” and played by Lee Generaux. (North Dakota man? “North Dakota” would have been an anachronistic term in 1884, though apparently there were some regional tensions already by the time Dakota Territory was split in two.)

Milo smiles briefly, but then, shivering, asks quietly for Charles and Garvey to get him back to his room.

David cranks up the minor-mode Greek tragedy music again.

In the room, Milo says he’s fine and just needs to sleep, but he’s still shuddering and sweating.

He asks them to turn the light on before they go – only it’s already on.

Charles goes to summon a doctor, but Garvey stays behind to tend his erstwhile rival.

Plainly seriously ill, Milo nevertheless smiles and says he prays Anna could hear the cheers.

And then holy shit, Anna’s ghost appears.

ALEXANDER: Pretty spooky for Little House.

Milo disturbs Garvey by having a brief conversation with her.

DAGNY: Who did this first, Landon or George Lucas?

WILL: What do you mean?

DAGNY: The translucent ghost.

WILL: Well . . . I suppose it was Little House!

Landon should have sued Lucas for royalties.

Anna reaches out her ghostly hand, and, saying “Love is forever,” Milo gives up his own ghost.

Garvey stares thoughtfully at Milo’s body.

ALEXANDER: Do they roast him up, have a big barbecue?

WILL: Yeah. Milo meatloaf.

Oh, and they still don’t give Milo a proper blanket. Nice! Bum-Bum-Ba-Dum!

STYLE WATCH: Brilliant Teeth wears some kind of crazy William Tell hat at one point.

Milo wears a proper singlet to wrestle, but Mueller dresses casually.

AMELIA: He wrestles in a purple wifebeater and black leggings?

Charles appears to go commando again.

THE VERDICT: 

WILL: You know how they should have ended that? 

ALEXANDER: They lose all their money?

WILL: No, though that would have been good. No, I was thinking Mueller should appear in the hotel for revenge. Garvey and Charles can’t defeat him, but Milo summons his strength one last time, and they both crash through the window to their deaths, like Sherlock Holmes: “The Final Problem.”

(Spoilers for Sherlock Holmes: “The Final Problem.”)

ALEXANDER: That is good. They could land on the little manager, take him out too.

Good lad. 

Well directed and watchable, if a little stiff, “The King is Dead” (grim title by the way) features great performances by its three guest stars. The script is more concerned with their characters than with our regulars, and Garvey doesn’t actually get to do as much as you’d like. (Charles might as well not be in it.)  

But Merlin Olsen is lovable as always, and for a one-off Little House on the Prairie about wrestling, it’s not bad. Amelia really liked it.

UP NEXT: The Faith Healer