Summary
Bobby, a gangly spark-plug with a grin that could short-circuit chandeliers, slithers into a WASPy soirée wrapped in a thrift-store fantasia: a frock-coat cut for a Munchkin diplomat, lapels like startled butterflies, trousers that appear to have been laundered in mustard gas. Every cousin, dowager, and crest-embossed aunt recoils as though a fresco had belched. The immigrant tailor who lent the suit watches from the margins, eyes glittering with anarchic mirth; he knows the garment is a Trojan horse stitched from social shame. Bobby ricochets from buffet to ballroom, spilling consommé on ancestral portraits, turning the gavotte into a three-ring collapse. At the apex of mortification arrives the Swedish count—tall, tow-headed, impeccably counterfeit—poised to merge bloodlines and balance sheets by marrying the family’s porcelain daughter. Bobby, sensing the imposter’s pulse of panic, pirouettes from clown to sleuth, trailing chaos like ticker-tape. In a single coup de théâtre he imports the count’s secret wife and two tow-headed toddlers, the living annulment of aristocratic daydreams. Gasps calcify into silence; chandeliers tremble. Then—sartorial quick-change—Bobby shrugs off the calamitous coat, emerges in immaculate white tie, and redirects the spotlight toward the ingenue’s dove-grey gaze. The final fade-out is not on scandal but on possibility: a kiss that rewrites pedigree as mere prologue.
Synopsis
Bobby borrows a funny looking suit from an immigrant and disgraces his relatives in this country by making persistent appearances at one of their social affairs. They weren't surprised to see him looking so queer - they had fully expected that - but it was tough that the Swedish count who was about to wed their daughter had to be so embarrassed. Bobby finally manages to expose the fake count and even brings in the latter's wife and children to prove his falsity. Then he changes his clothes and makes love to the pretty ingenue.
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