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Radio-play Transcript
"Rosie's Place":
'Show 5: Will It Play In
Peoria?'
Transcribed & Edited by
W.D. Reimer
Written by W.D. Reimer & E.O. Costello
with additional material by M.M. Marmel & J.T. Urie
| Columbia
Broadcasting System transcription "Standard of Rhode Island Show" Rosie's Place: Show 5: Will It Play in Peoria? Sunday, October 9, 1938 West Coast Repeat Show 7.30 pm Los Antelopes Time [Orchestra flourish] Harlow Wilcox: Standard of Rhode Island, the makers of Fire Cheetah premium gasoline, present "Rosie's Place." [Steel guitar plays "When My Dreams Come True" in Hawai'ian fashion under song] Andrews Sisters: Ever since I met you all that I seem to do is dream Wonderful dreams Heaven's before my eyes, when will I realize my dreams Wonderful dreams? The skies will all be blue When my dreams come true And I'll be smiling through When my dreams come true... Harlow: Starring Georgia Ellis as Rosie, with Mel Blanc, Bea Benadaret, Sara Berner, Bert Gordon, Franklin Pangborn and Stanley Adams, with the Andrews Sisters and the Raymond Scott Orchestra, with a special guest appearance by Tallulah Bankhead. The Orchestra opens with "Flirtation Walk." [Orchestra plays "Flirtation Walk"] [Cut into music] Harlow: With Hallow'een coming up, you'll be expecting all sorts of tricks or treats, or surprises. And we know you'll prefer jack o' lanterns and ghosts in white sheets to a surprise from your car, especially now that the weather is turning. Giving your car the best you can give it is no trick, especially if you stop by one of the more than 3,000 Standard of Rhode Island service stations from coast to coast. And it'll be easy to spot your service station man: he's the one wearing the Anchor, the symbol that means he knows how to keep your car in tip-top condition, and that he has the tools and the products for the job. So to get less of a fright when you're driving down the road this fall, be more than safe. Be SORI. Standard of Rhode Island. [Orchestra finishes song] Harlow: The Spontoon Islands are full of furs that come to the islands for the sun, the games at the casinos, or just to soak up the native ambience. There are also those furs who come to the islands looking for opportunities, whether it’s business or pleasure. And some of those furs can show up at... [GRAMS: Sound of telephone ringing twice, then being picked up.] Rosie Baumgartner: Luchow's, this is Rosie Baumgartner...oh! [lowers voice slightly] Hello, Franklin! I’m very glad you called. Yes, I want to apologize for leaving early this morning. No, no, nothing wrong, just taking some deliveries with K’nutt’s help. Yes, just K’nutt. B’onss still hasn’t grown all his tailfur back yet . . . yes, that’s right, I didn’t want him putting the customers off their food . . . Oh? What’s that you say? She WHAT?! You did - ? Ah, I see. Well, come on over, Franneleh, and Tante Rosie will see what can be done. Yes . . . yes, I swear I won’t . . . well, I’ll see you in a bit, Inspector. [GRAMS: Sound of phone being hung up.] Rosie: Vicky! [GRAMS: Sound of double doors swinging] Victoria Knox: You bellowed? Rosie: I need to borrow your knives, Vicky. Vicky: My knives? Why? You’ve got claws, Rosie. Rosie: The Constabulary has my clawmarks registered. Vicky: I’ve heard of fingerprints, but that’s just silly. How do they register clawmarks? Rosie: They made impressions of my claws using sand molds. Vicky: You mean the Constabulary does sandy claws impressions? Rosie: Yup. Vicky: Ho ho ho. Nikolai Ivanovich Lopanearov: Da, is wary true in making a fine impression, especially when customers do not make with the check paying, yes? Rosie: Nick, quiet. Vicky: Well, what’s wrong, Rosie? What’s going on? Nick: Of courrrrrrse. Please be making with the spilling. Rosie: Something else is gonna be spilled if you don't pipe down, Nick. Okeh. Here’s what’s going on. You know the Inspector? Vicky: Oh, come on, Rosie. Of course we know the Inspector. He eats here nearly every day. He also doesn't pinch the silverware. Rosie: (happy sigh) I wish he would pinch the owner. Vicky: Heh. Nick: Nick, he is after thinking this Inspector is a werra kind gentlebuck. He help Nikolai Ivanovich out of jam. Rosie: When was that, Nick? Nick: It was being a few years ago. Nikolai Ivanovich, he is working at the Grand when he is accused of stealing from till. Rosie: Stealing from the till? You?! Vicky: Wow. I didn’t think you were smart enough. Nick: I vas innocent. The Inspector, he see stains on till. They are strawberry jam, so he question the pastry chef. The chef, he confesses. Is his lips marks, yass. Vicky: So he saw the jam . . . Rosie: . . . that got you out of a jam. Nick: Ho, ho, ho. But of courrrrrrse. The pastry chef, he kiss and till. Rosie: Vicky? Vicky: Yes, Rosie? Rosie: Next time I ask Nick to explain something, smack me in the head, please. Vicky: Fair enough. [GRAMS: Sound of door swinging.] [GRAMS: Sound of bell ringing.] Rosie: Fra – er, Inspector, do come in. My word, you look as pale as a ghost. Come here and have a seat. [GRAMS: Sound of chair being pulled out; sounds of shuffling, limping hoofed walk.] Inspector Franklin Stagg: Thank you, Miss Baumgartner. I’ve had a rather trying and stressful morning. Rosie: Tell me about it, then. Vicky? A glass of ice water for the Inspector, please. Vicky: Sure thing, Rosie. [GRAMS: Sound of pitcher and tinkling ice cubes. Sound of glass being placed on counter.] Rosie: Now, Franklin, tell me what happened. Franklin: Errahum, yes. Well, I was on my way to the Constabulary offices when I was stopped by a woman. Rosie: A woman? Vicky: A woman? Nick (musically): A woooooooo-maaaaaaaaaannnnnnn... [GRAMS: Whooshing sound, sound of knife hitting wood, quivering sound] Nick: Nikolai Ivanovich suddenly realize. He must prepare the dinner menu. [GRAMS: Hurried sound of body whistling through double-doors] Rosie: Bye, Nick. Don't forget to write. Now, Inspector, tell me about this woman. Franklin: She was - she stood . . . Rosie: You'd better have another glass of water. My, she must have really startled you. I’ve seen you show more aplomb at the prospect of the Althing being bombed. Vicky: The Althing being bombed isn’t exactly front-page news, Rosie. Rosie: I meant with explosives, Vicky. Vicky: Pfffft. Pineapple brandy does more. Franklin: Well, she stands about five feet eight inches, a whitetail doe with red headfur – Vicky: Was she smoking a cigarette in a holder? Franklin: Why, yes. Vicky: Dressed to kill? Franklin: Um...well, that's a matter of opinion... Vicky: Flaming red headfur that's shoulder-length? Franklin: Yes. Vicky: And is she – well, built like a brick convention hall? Franklin: Um, yes. That is quite an accurate description, Miss Knox. How did you know? [GRAMS: Sound of door opening, bell ringing.] Lynn-Mae Reynolds: Oh theah you are, you DAH-ling buck! Vicky: Call it an inspired guess. Lynn-Mae: Why, it shouldn’t be like a fine figure of a buck such as yourself to hide out from Lynn-Mae, should it? Franklin: Er . . . Rosie: Excuse me, Lynn-Mae what? Lynn-Mae: Lynn-Mae do any ol' thang y'all might think of, kittycat. What’s it to ya, sugah? [GRAMS: Sound of claws sproinging.] Rosie: You misunderstand. What’s your last name? Lynn-Mae: Oh, heavens, where ARE mah manners? Lynn-Mae Reynolds, from Schaumburg, Illinois. Yes, of the Schaumburg Reynoldses, thank you. Mah daddy made his fortune in collectin'. Vicky: Collecting what? Accents? Lynn-Mae: Dead pres'dents. Mah daddy deeply ad-mahred Andrew Jackson. Vicky: Lots of people do. But how does collecting a dead president make a fortune? Lynn-Mae: Why, sugah, when y'all got thousands a copies on a lil' ol piece of paper with the Treasury seal on it... Vicky: Treasury seal? Won't it get wet? Lynn-Mae: Y'all a wit, dahlin'. Ah think y'all oughta call Major Bowes. Now, you sweet dahling hunk of buck, come on over here . . . Rosie: Excuse me, but he’s with me. Lynn-Mae: Oh, is he now? Well, kittycat, I’m sure he’ll want to trade up. Rosie: Trade *up*?!? [GRAMS: Sound of power saw] Vicky: Uh-oh. Easy, Rosie, it's hard to replace countertops. Lynn-Mae: Why, evah since Ah lost my husband last yeah, Ah've been looking for a new one. And Ah swear that this fine – what’s your name, dahling? Franklin: (clears throat) Errrr, I am Inspector Franklin J. Stagg of the Spontoon Islands Constabulary... Lynn-Mae: Hmmmmmm...y'all could put the cuffs on me, couldn't you. Franklin: Good heavens, what for? Lynn-Mae: Ah'm not particular, dahlin'. What y'all got? [GRAMS: Sound of timid knock on door.] Benson: Sweetie-puss? Lynn-Mae: Go AWAY, Benson! Rosie: Who’s that? Lynn-Mae: Mah husband, Benson. Benson, this heah is the hoi polloi. Franklin, Rosie, Vicky: WHAT!? Rosie: I thought you said you lost your husband. Lynn-Mae: Ah did, sugah, Ah did. He's such a stubborn lil' ol' buck, though. He won't stay lost. Shucks, they don't make cast-iron safes like they used to. My, what a nice potted plant. Are y'all using it for any ol' thang? Rosie: Err...no. Lynn-Mae: Much obliged. [GRAMS: Sound of ceramic pot being picked up, sound of a throw and object whizzing through air, then screen ripping and loud Bonk! Sound of ceramic pot breaking, heavy thud of body falling to the ground.] Vicky: Hit batsfur. Take your base. Franklin: You . . . Madam, you just threw a potted plant at your ex-husband. Lynn-Mae: It was a Lucky Strike. Rosie: How was it a lucky strike? Lynn-Mae: It was round, firm, and fully-packed, sugah. And so easy on the draw. Rosie: Un-huh. Vicky: Do the sponsors know about this? Franklin: I decline to answer on advice of counsel. [GRAMS: Sound of door opening, sound of bell ringing.] K’nutt: H-h-hi, Rosie. S-s-sorry I’m late. Rosie: Oh great, another country heard from. Why were you late, K’nutt? K’nutt: I w-w-wuz comin’ up th' w-walk, an’ h-h-here wuz dis guy lyin’ in th' w-way. I h-hadda go th-the long w-way around. Vicky: Why, K’nutt? K’nutt: There wuz pieces o’ f-f-flowerpot lyin’ Pall Mall around th-the walk. Sh-should I g-g-get the dustpan an’ brush, Rosie? Rosie: Yes, K’nutt. (sighs) Now, see here, Lynn-Mae . . . Lynn-Mae: Now, don't you fret none, sugah. Ol' Lynn-Mae... Rosie: (under breath): Truer words were never spoken... Lynn-Mae: AH-hem, ol' Lynn-Mae will just reach into her lil' ol' pocket-book, an' pay for this heah screen door. Why, it's a scandal! That there door needed replacin', Ah'm thinkin'. Rosie: Oh, really? Lynn-Mae: Why of course. Sugah, it didn't pass th' test of holdin' back a potted plant, now, did it? Rosie: You do a ‘screen test’ joke in here and I’ll scream. Lynn-Mae: Mmmmm. Ah save *mah* screamin' for other things, sugah. Now, where was Ah? Oh, yes, Franklin DAH-ling. AH'll expect to see y'all for dinner tonight, at the Marylebone mind you, for dinner at six o’clock. Don’t keep me waiting. (chuckle) Or Ah swear, Ah'll have to come looking for yew. [GRAMS: Sound of bell ringing, sound of door closing.] Franklin: Heaven help us. I wonder if the Foreign Legion has a recruiting office here in the Spontoons. Rosie: You can say that again, Franneleh. What’s got her flag in a twist? And where’s K’nutt with the dustpan? [GRAMS: Sound of steam escaping] K’nutt: Homina homina h-homina . . . Vicky: He’s over there, Rosie, drooling. Well, okeh, drooling more than usual. And EWWWWWW, I'm not mopping that up. K’nutt: Homina homina h-homina . . . Rosie: I'm more worried about that steam. K’nutt? Come in, K’nutt. Eastern Island tower to K'nutt, do you copy, over? (snapping fingers) K’nutt: Oh! Uh, h-h-hullo Rosie. Rosie: K’nutt, what were you staring foolishly at? K'nutt: W-w-when? Vicky: He's got you there, Rosie. So many moments to choose from. Rosie: Just now, K'nutt, while we were all talking. K’nutt: I l-l-likes redheads. Rosie: I thought you likes – er, liked coconuts. K’nutt: R-redheads’re softer. Vicky: Hooooo-boy. Love finds Andy Hardly. Er . . . Rosie, you want I should distract the censor? Rosie: Franklin, I think that you should take a short rest in your room. You still look pretty flustered from that doe. Franklin: Thank you, Rosie. Good thing you fixed that lock. [GRAMS: Shuffling, limping walk.] Rosie: Vicky, I’m having an idea. Vicky: Does it involve K’nutt here? Rosie: Yes. Vicky: You're playing with fire. Rosie: Correction: I'm going to play with a fiery red-head. Vicky: But I thought you . . . hold on a minute . . . oh, NO. You mean, the Vulpine Valentino here... K'nutt: H-h-homina, homina, H-h-h-homina. Vicky: Rosie, there is absolutely no way on Earth you could convince anyone that K'nutt is the Great Lover. Not without substantial bribes, anyway. And very dark sunglasses. Rosie: Oh ye of little faith. All we have to do is clean up K'nutt here, rent a tux for him, and pound some simple story into his head that even he can remember. Eh, voila! Vicky: I dunno, Rosie. Is that kind of plan idiot proof? Rosie: Doesn't have to be. Just K'nutt proof. All we need for him is to put his best paw forward for dinner. Vicky: That’s easy. It’s his right paw. Rosie: How can you tell? Vicky: His left paw is all drool-soaked, so . . . (Musical bridge) Rosie: Now, K’nutt, we’ll go through this once again. You’re a guest at the Marylebone, and you see this pretty redhead – K’nutt: I l-l-l-likes r-r-redheads. Rosie: I know you do. So go up to her, turn on the charm, you handsome fox, and say what? K'nutt: I l-l-l-likes r-r-redheads. Rosie: Close enough. Shoo! [GRAMS: Sound of door opening and closing.] Rosie: The things I do to make a buck. Vicky: Psst! Rosie! Rosie: Yeah, Vicky? Vicky: Sent our little tod off already? I had to help Nick lock up. Franklin's safely over at Mrs. Nerzmann's. Rosie: Yeah, the canine Casanova's on his way. I told him exactly what he had to say. Vicky: I’d like to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. [GRAMS: Sound of silverware clinking against plates, gentle string music, muted conversation.] Lynn-Mae: Now, dahlin', what was it you said you did for a livin'? K'nutt: Uhhhhh....I l-l-l-likes redheads. Lynn-Mae: Oh, come now. That's not a livin', dahlin', that's a hobby. An' a mighty fine one, to be sure. But Ah'm wonderin' what you do there. Ah mean, y'all dolled up like that...an' lookin' right handsome, too K'nutt: Oh...oh...h-h-h-homina-homina. Uh. I run t'ings. Lynn-Mae: Hmmm? What do y'all run. K'nutt: I runs t'ings. Here in th' Spontoons. Lynn-Mae: Well, ah'm sure. Have y'all seen that big buck, Franklin? K'nutt: H-h-he werks for me. Lynn-Mae: Come again, sugah? K'nutt: I'm already h-h-here. Lynn-Mae: (chuckles) Of course you are, dahlin, but what do y'all mean? K'nutt: I runs th' Spontoons. Lynn-Mae: Hmmmmm, do you now. Why don't you pull up a chair next to Lynn-Mae, an' tell her *all* about it... (musical bridge.) [GRAMS: Sound of door being unlocked, door opening.] Lynn-Mae: Well, now, that was a *most* unexpected pleasure, Mr. K'nutt. K’nutt: Uh, thanks, L-Lynn-Mae. Lynn-Mae: You’re a very handsome fox, you know. Can I interest you in a nightcap? K’nutt: I-It’s n-not bedtime, y-yet. An' me head ain't cold. Lynn-Mae: Ah'll say y'all ain't cold, dahlin'. Come here for a second. [GRAMS: Kissing sound, followed by a brief fire-bell sound.] K’nutt: Homina homina . . . uh, I l-l-l-LIKES redheads. Benson (off-mike): Sweetie-puss? K’nutt: Wh-who’s that? Lynn-Mae: Just Benson in the hedges. Ignore him. Be a love, an' give over that vase to Lynn-Mae, hmmm? [GRAMS: Sound of window opening. Sound of something whistling off mike. Sound of something crashing off mike. Sound of window closing, sound of shade being pulled down.] Lynn-Mae: So much for the tahget for tonight. Now, where were we? [Musical flourish] Harlow: The Andrews Sisters, with Raymond Scott and his orchestra, perform "I Wish I Were In Love Again"... [Orchestra plays "I Wish I Were In Love Again"...] Patty: The sleepless nights Maxine: The daily fights LaVerne: The quick toboggan Patty: When you reach the heights Maxine: I miss the kisses LaVerne: And I miss the bites All: I wish I were in love again Patty: The broken dates Maxine: The endless waits LaVerne: The lovely loving Patty: And the hateful hates Maxine: The conversation LaVerne: With the flying plates All: I wish I were in love again Patty: No more pain Maxine: No more strain LaVerne: Now I'm sane All: But I would rather be punched - drunk Patty: The pulled out fur Maxine: Of cat and cur LaVerne: The fine mismating Patty: Of a him and her Maxine: I've learned my lesson LaVerne: But I wish I were All: In love again Patty: The furtive sigh Maxine: The blackened eye LaVerne: The words: "I love you Patty: 'Til the day I die" Maxine: The self deception LaVerne: That believes the lie All: I wish I were in love again Patty: When love congeals Maxine: It soon reveals LaVerne: The faint aroma Patty: Of performing seals Maxine: The double-crossing LaVerne: Of a pair of heels All: I wish I were in love again Patty: No, no more care Maxine: No, no despair LaVerne: Now I'm all there (now) All: But I'd rather be punch-drunk Patty: Believe me sir Maxine: I much prefer LaVerne: The classic battle Patty: Of a him and her Maxine: I don't like quiet LaVerne: And I wish I were All: In love again - in love again - in love again [Pause for applause] [Musical flourish] Harlow: Well, it seems that Rosie and Vicky’s little plan to throw Lynn-Mae off the trail of Inspector Stagg is bearing fruit. Or maybe a K'nutt... (musical bridge) The Hon. A. Cadbury Mouchoir: Now see here, my dear fellow . . . K’nutt: I-I-I ain’t a deer, I'm a fox. I ain't got points on me head. Mouchoir: I shall give you the benefit of the doubt on that score, sir. K'nutt: I’m t-t-t-ryin’ to give y-youse a j-j-job. Lynn-Mae: Ya’ll got somethin’ ‘gainst honest work? Mouchoir: Work? Work? Heaven forfend and perish the thought, Madame! The Mouchoirs have not sullied our paws with work for a thousand years. But a government job – that’s a horse of a different color. K’nutt: Wh-what horse? Mouchoir: Don’t concern yourself with equines, my friend. Born teetotalers. Lynn-Mae: Teetotalers? Mouchoir: You can’t make them drink, Madame, no matter how hard you try. Now, what kind of government job could you offer me, as a fur of great breeding, distinction, and one hopes legible paw-writing on the paychecks? Lynn-Mae (aside): Dis-tinction? Somethin’ ‘bout all his fancy talk’s stinkin.’ K’nutt: M-M-Miniter o’ th’ Interior. Mouchoir: Why on earth would you offer me the Ministry of Interior, my good K’nutt? That sounds like an inside job. K’nutt: So’s you can r-run th’ C-C-Constabulary. An’ p-p-pick on me big brudder fer me. Mouchoir: Capital suggestion, my dear sir, simply capital! I know just what kind of police force we’ll have. K’nutt: Wh-what kind of p-p-police force sh-should w-w-we have, M-Mouchoir? Mouchoir: A standing police force. K’nutt: S-s-s-standing? Lynn-Mae (aside): Wait for it . . . Mouchoir: Of course, my dear K’nutt. We’ll save money on chairs. Lynn-Mae: Ya’ll pardon me while Ah throw myself undah a bus for that last joke. Mouchoir: I beg your pardon, Madam. I was distracted, being reminded of one of my departed ancestors. Lynn-Mae: An’ who might that be, sugah? Mouchoir: My distant forebear, Owen. Lynn-Mae: I see. Yore ancestor was Owen? Mouchoir: Indeed, quite a lot, which is why my ancestor Owen de Mouchoir found himself employed as seneschal to the Earl of Nemoumberland, back in the Restoration. Lynn-Mae: What was bein’ restored? Mouchoir: Quite a few bank balances, Madame, including that of Owen, who had fallen upon hard times not long before, and had been forced to find actual work -- you will pardon my vulgar language -- as a swineherd. K’nutt: S-so h-he w-worked like a p-pig? Mouchoir: Hardly, my dear boy. Owen fell to his new duties with a will, which included safeguarding the Countess of Nemoumberland’s jewelry from assorted footpads and blackguards, as well as managing the Earl’s estates. He did such a good job of management that the Earl, alas, ended up fleeing the country to avoid some rather peeved creditors. Lynn-Mae: Good heavens. What ‘bout the Countess’ jewels? Mouchoir: Ah, me it is a very sorry tale, Madame. Owen heard that assorted desperadoes were coming to loot what valuables remained in the castle, so Owen thought to hide them in the moat. Lynn-Mae: Clever. Mouchoir: So it would have been, Madame, had not Owen, in his haste, not harked back to his former and recent lot in life. Instead of the Countess’ jewels, he threw a large boar into the moat. Lynn-Mae: Ya’ll mean he - ? Mouchoir: Yes, Madam, he cast swine before pearls. Lynn-Mae: He shoulda been thrown out then, on his tushes. (sighs) Where’s that bus? K’nutt: Mooch, y-y-you’ll s-start at th-the M-M-Ministry on M-M-Monday. Mouchoir: Wonderful, my dear K’nutt! And I bid you both good day. Lynn-Mae: I do declare, K’nutt, ya’ll have some mighty strange people in these parts . . . K’nutt: Wh-wh-which parts? Lynn-Mae: Now, sugah, don’t ya’ll start getting’ all frisky out heah in public, now. Wait till we get back to the room . . . (musical bridge) [GRAMS: Door opening and closing, bell ringing.] Rosie: Hiya, Vicky! Vicky: Hi, Rosie. Say, I haven’t seen a hair of K’nutt anywhere lately. Not that that’s a bad thing, but it makes me wonder where he’s got to. Rosie: I have it on good authority that he’s been in retreat. Vicky: Retreat? Rosie: Wouldn’t YOU be in retreat from the likes of Lynn-Mae Reynolds? Vicky: You have a point there. [GRAMS: Door opening and closing, bell ringing.] Kara Karoksdottir: ROSIE! Rosie: Good morning, Kara. You’re looking a bit, um, agitated today. Vicky: Yeah, move that brush any faster and we can save money running the fans. Kara: All right, girls, stop the kidding. Where’s my brother? Rosie: B’onss? I thought he was still at home. Kara: Not him, I mean K’nutt. He hasn’t been home in two days, and my mother’s worried about him. Vicky: Worried that he’s gone? Or worried he might come back? Kara: Look, Vicky. You’ve seen my mother lifting a washing machine with one paw. Do you REALLY want her upset? Vicky: Good point. Cup of coffee? Kara: Tea, thanks. Well, Rosie? Rosie: I think I owe you an explanation, Kara . . . (musical bridge) Rosie: So you see, Kara, in order to throw this doe off the Inspector’s tail, I decided to use K’nutt as bait. It was the best plan I could come up with at short notice. Kara: Rosie, do you have any idea what you’ve done? Rosie: Worst that could happen, she ends up married to him. How bad is that? Kara: Huh! Got two hours? Vicky: You don’t want to hear this, folks, trust me on this. Nick! Nick: You call Nikolai Ivanovich, yass? Vicky: Unfortunately, I have to. What’s this item on the lunch menu? “Native Salad?” Nick: Da, is lettuce alone without dressing. [GRAMS: Sound of muzzle getting slapped] Harlow: (clears throat) Yes. Well. I think now would be as good a time as any, folks, to tell you about Fire Cheetah, the super-premium gasoline from Standard of Rhode Island. No other gasoline you can buy today will do so much for your car. Rosie (off-mike): Oh, come on! Harlow: (clears throat) Errr...on the one paw, Fire Cheetah delivers premium power to your car's engine, allowing you to get the most out of every gallon of gasoline. But that's not all Fire Cheetah can do. Thanks to the patented triple-hydrofining process that Standard of Rhode Island uses, Fire Cheetah is a *clean* burning gasoline... Rosie (off-mike): That can't be true! It can't be! Harlow (clears throat): Ah-hem, well, yes, it may be hard to believe by some, but Fire Cheetah leaves no carbon deposits on your car's engine. Over time, that not only allows your car to burn gasoline more efficiently, but it will save you the expense of repairs to your car's engine. And doesn't that give you peace of mind? ROSIE: AAAAAIIIIIYEEEEEE! INFORMATION A CHEETAH WASN’T MEANT TO KNOW !!! Harlow: ...errrr, so stop in at one of the more than 3,000 Standard of Rhode Island service stations, and say... Rosie: SOAP! SOAP! I NEED TO CLEAN MY BRAIN!!!! Harlow: Um...I'd like to be SORI. Standard of Rhode Island. Vicky: I know one fur who's sorry, right now. Rosie, are you okay? Rosie: (panting) I will be, Vicky. We have to find K’nutt and get him away from Lynn-Mae. Kara: Lynn-Mae? Rosie: That’s what I’m worried about ... [GRAMS: Door opening and closing, with bell.] B'onss: Oh, hey, dere ya is, Kara. Ma's been lookin' fer ya. Kara: *Now* what have you done? And why are you in that bedsheet? Hallow'een isn't for another few weeks. B'onss: 'ey, nonea dat. A Wise One tells me t'wear dis. Nick: Hee! The B'onss, he looks like the Rome, yes? B'onss: Not 'fore four, Nick. I sticks t'Coca-Cola befer dat. Vicky: I'm going to deeply regret this question, but why did a Wise One tell you to wear a bed sheet? B'onss: T'perteck me tender growin' fur. Vicky: Errrrr, you mean the fur that you lost... B'onss: ...when me dumb as a box of hammers brudder pulled me tail offen dat glued door. Vicky: So, when the Wise One told you to wear a sheet, what was the end in view? No, wait, let me rephrase that... B'onss: Nah, th' Wise One gimme some stuff t'grow me fur back. She said it'd grow fur onna cocoanut. An' she's right, too. Look! [GRAMS: Sound of heavy object being placed on counter] Vicky (with some nausea): Ewwwwwww. I likes cocoanuts no more. B'onss: Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. Anyhoo, Kara, Ma wants t'know what K'nutt is upta. He sent a real funny kinda note dis mornin'. Kara: Funny in what kind of way? B'onss: Leave us turn t'th' original. "B-b-b'onss:" Rosie: He stutters when he writes? B'onss: "I w-w-wants ya t'bring 'round th' car at 6 tonight. Miss R-r-reynolds and I will be d-d-dining at the club tonight. L-l-look sharp, man, or I will d-d-dock you a day's w-w-wages. Your boss, K'nutt." (pause) Kara: I don't believe it. Give me that. [GRAMS: Sound of paper rustling] Rosie: You mean all this romance is going to his head? Kara: Nature abhors a vacuum, Rosie. Well, this jibes with what I heard this morning. B'onss: What's dat? Kara: He apparently called the Minister of the Interior and began issuing all sort of directives. Rosie: Like? Kara: For starters, Mouchoir’s in charge of the Constabulary. Rosie: That’ll get your brother’s tail in a twist. Kara: And from now on, *everyone* must likes cocoanuts. Vicky: Not redheads. Kara: No, cocoanuts. Also, B'onss here was to be put on the payroll as K'nutt's flunkie. B'onss: WHAT?!?! Kara: At one shilling a day, minus expenses... B'onss: WHAT?!?! Kara: And ten minutes for lunch. B'onss: I'll moider th' little bum. Lemme at 'im. Where is he, the lil' Rockefeller? Rosie: I'm afraid to ask. I might not want to know. (musical bridge) Lynn-Mae: Why, K’nutt dahling, Ah’m having simply the loveliest time here with yew. Yew know, if you weren’t so big and important, Ah'd take you home to Illinois and marry yew. K’nutt: Th-thanks, L-Lynn-Mae. B’onss: K'NUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT! Lynn-Mae: Why K’nutt, who is that? And why is he wearing a bedsheet around his waist? K’nutt: Oh, th-that’s j-just m-my flunkie, B’onss. He got hurt t-tryin’ to catch a squirrel. Lynn-Mae: I see. So he works for you? B’onss: Don't make me laugh, sister. This lil' squirt werks fer me. C'mere you. When I gets t'ru wit' youse, yer gonna be eatin' yer durian t'ru a straw. Lynn-Mae: Why, you horrid, horrid ruffian. You take your paws off my K'nutt this instant, do you heah? Why, you shameful anarchist! B’onss: Naw, dat's me older brudder. He's th' one wot goes t'church...now as fer you, ya lil' lamebrain... [GRAMS: Sound of scuffling footpads against gravel.] Lynn-Mae: Take your paws off him! Police! POLICE! [GRAMS: Sound of umbrella striking vulpine head.] B’onss: OWWW! [GRAMS: Sounds of running feet, umbrella hitting vulpine head, B’onss yowling, etc.] (musical bridge) [GRAMS: Sound of door opening and closing, bell ringing.] Vicky: Welcome to Luchow’s – oh, hi Kara. How did things go at court? Kara: (growls) Don’t ask. Took me ten minutes just to stop the judge from laughing at the idea that K’nutt was not only wealthy, but ran the Althing. Vicky: Ran the Althing? My my, the little fool really did put on airs for his doe, didn’t he? Kara: No, it seems that K’nutt was the victim of his own success. Vicky: Success? Kara: Yeah, in his own stupid way, my innocent *little* brother managed to screw up the lines that Rosie taught him, and the crazy doe actually fell for it. She even filled in the blanks, to her own satisfaction. Vicky: Well, the course of true love never ran true. Kara: Hah. It came out in court, but let me tell you something – (musical bridge) Vicky: AAAAAIIIIIYEEEEEE! INFORMATION A VIXEN WASN’T MEANT TO KNOW!!! Kara: See what I mean? Vicky: Dang it, Kara! Don’t DO that! [GRAMS: Sound of door opening and closing, bell ringing.] Rosie: Good afternoon, Kara. Kara: Not from my point of view, Rosie. Bad enough having to argue that Lynn-Mae was contributing to the delinquency of a minor, but then persuading her to drop the charges against B’onss – compared to that, dropping the charges against her for beating B’onss was easy. Rosie: So K’nutt’s back home, huh? Kara: Yeah, with lots of nice ripe durian to eat for supper. B’onss with him. I tell you, Mom’s getting tired of coming over here to get them out of jail. Vicky: And Lynn-Mae? Kara: I managed to convince the judge that it was all a misunderstanding. She’s beating the bushes for her two sons now, so she can, and I quote, get out of this crazy place and back to Illinois, end quote. [Voiceover: Call for Phillip and Morris!] [GRAMS: Sound of door opening and closing, bell ringing.] Lynn-Mae: Ah swear, Ah’m going to go back home this instant, as soon as I find my sons. Rosie: I heard someone calling for them. Ask some of the guides; they might be able to help you track them down. So, um, you’re off the buck hunt, eh? Lynn-Mae: Dahling, you can have him. Ah’m never coming back here as long as Ah live! Why, that buck might be someone’s grandfather, with eight wives and wearing a bone through his nose when he’s off work. [GRAMS: Sound of door opening and closing, bell ringing.] Benson: Sweetie puss? [GRAMS: Whizzing sound; sound of ceramic pot breaking, followed by sound of body hitting the sidewalk.] Vicky: Should I get the first aid kit, Rosie? Rosie: No, he’s gone home for supper. We’ll have to do it ourselves. Vicky: And should I get the broom and dustpan? Rosie: Sure thing, Vicky. [Musical flourish] [Full orchestra plays "When My Dreams Come True"] [cut into music] Harlow: Cars are complicated machines, and they require lots of care and attention in order to bring out the best in them. Your Standard of Rhode Island dealer has the premium triple-hydrofined gasoline, Fire Cheetah, that delivers the most punch for the dollar of any premium gasoline you can buy. But that's by no means the only thing your SORI dealer can provide you. When you see the sign of the Anchor, that's the sign of a service station that stocks a complete line of batteries, spark plugs, fan belts, oil filters, motor oil, windshield wipers, tire care materials and everything else you need to keep your car in tip-top condition. And you can be sure that these parts are top of the line parts, from the finest manufacturers in the country. At the sign of the Anchor, only the best is provided for your automobile and you. Once you visit a Standard of Rhode Island station, one of the more than 3,000 from coast to coast, you'll realize that in order to be safe, you should be SORI. Standard of Rhode Island! [Brief cut back into music] Harlow: Featured in the cast tonight were Georgia Ellis as Rosie, Mel Blanc as B'onss , K'nutt, and Benson Reynolds; Bert Gordon as Nick, Bea Benadaret as Kara Karoksdottir, Sara Berner as Victoria Knox, and Gerald Mohr as Inspector Stagg, with a special guest appearance by Tallulah Bankhead. The show was written by W.D. Reimer and E.O. Costello, with additional material by M.M. Marmel and J.T. Urie. "When My Dreams Come True" is copyright Irving Berlin Music Company, "I Wish I Were In Love Again", and "Along Flirtation Walk" are copyright Warner-Chappel Music Company. Tune in again this same time next week over most of these CBS stations for another visit to "Rosie's Place," courtesy of Standard of Rhode Island. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. [Fade back into music] Station announcer: This is K-N-X, Los Antelopes. Stayed tuned for "The Mercury Theatre of the Air," and its production of "Hell On Ice." Transcribed and edited by W.D. Reimer |