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Posted 26 June 2012
Radio-play Transcript 
"Rosie's Place":
'Show 6: Bedbugs & Nightsticks'
Transcribed & Edited by W.D. Reimer
Written by W.D. Reimer & E.O. Costello
with additional material by M.M. Marmel & J.T. Urie


Editor’s Note (from Walt Reimer):  This script, heavily annotated in an unknown paw, was recently discovered in the Standard Oil of Rhode Island archives.  It is a departure from the usual “Rosie’s Place” radio shows, as it was designed as an experimental foray into the Rain Island radio market.

William Samuels, the powerful chairman of CBS, expressed reservations about tailoring shows to fit the Seathl market, but two junior executives insisted that the show would be well-received. 

Unfortunately, the pair based this assessment, and much of the humor in the script, on one hearing of one show starring The Four Fools, a popular comedy troupe in Rain Island at the time.

The show aired over Station ZYPR on October 16, 1938, at 7:30 P.M. local time.  To say it was not well-received in that time slot would be an understatement.  The Four Fools’ shows were scheduled for a time period when it was assumed that children would be in bed.  The ZYPR staff wired Gnu York directly, telling Samuels that Columbia’s product was unwelcome.

The archives also contained correspondence between the head of SORI and William Samuels and William Reilly of CBS.  This was somewhat acrimonious, especially given the poor ratings and reviews the show got in Seathl.  CBS assured the head of SORI that the experiment would not be repeated.  Ironically, it is only because of Mr. Moorefield's own copy that the show, long rumored, is known to have been broadcast.

Vindicated, Samuels proceeded to have all recordings of the episode, as well as copies of the script, destroyed.  SORI, however, apparently retained its sponsor’s copy.

***

Columbia Broadcasting System transcription


"Standard of Rhode Island Show"
Rosie's Place:
Show 6: Bedbugs and Nightsticks
Sunday, October 16, 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]

Mantle 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 Kathryn Russell as Rosie, with Jerome White, Betty Bradley, Leilani Goldfarb, Glenn Manning, Horace Lovelace and Irwin Wilson, with the Mantle Sisters and the Harry Warnow Ensemble, with a special guest appearance by Sam Snyder.  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: no, he won’t be wearing a costume, 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 ambiance.  But sometimes there is a dark side to the tourist trade, and we see just how dark it can get at ...

[GRAMS: Sound of telephone ringing twice, then being picked up with a fumbling paw.]

Rosie Baumgartner:  Hello?  Rosie here . . .  (yawns)  Oh, hi, Vicky . . . no, I was just waking up – what?  No, I guess I was sleeping pretty soundly . . . all right, I’ll be downstairs – what?  Wait, what?  I can’t hear you . . .  Huh!  She hung up.

[GRAMS: Sound of phone being hung up.]

[GRAMS: Sounds of yelling; additional sound (very soft and off-mike, just barely heard) of numerous people talking]

Rosie:  Oh, this I have to see . . .

[GRAMS: Sound of bedsprings, cloth rustling; footsteps on the stairs]

Rosie:  Vicky!  What’s going on? 

Victoria Knox:  A ruckus and a half, Rosie.

[GRAMS:  Sound of crash off-mike, yowling]

Nikolai Ivanovich Lopanearov:  MOZHYE BEET DVA GRABBLEVITCH STRUVENKA!

[GRAMS:  Sound of crash off-mike, yowling; sounds under the conversation]

Rosie:  What’s got Nick so exercised?  That last time I heard him make that much noise – and in Russian, no less – was last November 7th.

Vicky:  Well, Nick got in early, you see –

Rosie:  Oh?

Vicky:  - and found out that K’nutt was trying his paw at cooking.

Rosie:  Cooking?  In MY restaurant??

Vicky:  Well, his mother won’t allow him in their kitchen at home, after The Incident.

Rosie:  What incident?

Vicky:  It was in all the papers, Rosie. 

Rosie:  Well, what was the headline?

Vicky:  “Meat Pie Attacks.”

(pause)

Rosie:  I think I’d better see what’s going on.

[GRAMS:  Sound of door swinging open; sounds of crashing and yowling get louder]

Nick: CHAIKA MOSKVICHI!

Rosie: NICK!  Put that cleaver down!

Nick:  Rosie –

Rosie:  Right now!  I know K’nutt’s not allowed near the stove, but – GOOD LORD!

[GRAMS:  Soft gloop noises, like gelatin being forced through a silk stocking]

Rosie:  If I ask what this is, will I regret it?

Nick:  Is what Nikolai Ivanovich tries to tell you, Rosie – this little lisitsa has filled entire kitchen with –

Vicky:  Yuck.  Looks like –

Rosie:  Smells like –

Nick:  Nikolai Ivanovich is sure it is.

All:  Cocoanut pudding.

Vicky:  Yuck.  Careful, Rosie.  That stuff looks sticky.

Rosie:  Not as sticky as the spot’s K’nutt’s gotten himself in.  Speaking of which, where is the little nebbish? K’nutt?  Where are you?

K’nutt:  (voice echoing) O-over h-h-here, R-R-Rosie.

Rosie:  Where are you?

K’nutt:  H-H-H-Hiding.

Rosie:  Well, I can see that – or I can’t see that, depending on how you look at it.  Come out, come out, wherever you are!

[GRAMS:  Muffled sound of oven door opening, glooping sounds]

Vicky:  EEK!

Nick:  It is Abdominal Snowman!

Rosie:  Good Lord, K’nutt!  You look like a pile of marshmallow with a tail and ears!  How did you manage to make such a mess?

K’nutt:  I l-l-l-likes c-c-c-cocoanuts.

Vicky:  What do you want done with the little macaroon maroon, Rosie?

Nick:  We make toast of him on a stick, yes?

Rosie:  That’s tempting, Nick, but what if it hardens up?

Vicky:  We could put him outside.  Think of it, Rosie.

[GRAMS:  Sound of door opening.]

[GRAMS:  Sound of bell ringing.]

Rosie:  Now who could that be?  Think of what, Vicky?

Vicky:  K’nutt could sit outside as a snowman.  Christmas in Summer!  Great advertising.

K’nutt:  I l-l-likes Chr-Chr-Christmas.  I g-get l-l-l-lots of p-p-presents then.

Rosie:  Cocoanuts?

K’nutt:  H-H-How d-d-did you kn-kn-know, R-R-Rosie?

Nick:  Sound like the K’nutt has the motor running, nu? 

Rosie:  I’m going to pop his clutch if he isn’t more careful.  K’nutt, I want you to go home.

K’nutt:  H-h-h-home?

Rosie:  Yes, go home.  And get cleaned up.

K’nutt:  M-M-Mom w-won’t l-let me in th-th-the house.

Vicky:  I can understand that.

B’onss:  ROSIE!

Rosie:  Aaaaaaand the upstate counties report in.  In here, B’onss.  Watch your step.

[GRAMS:  Sound of door opening]

B’onss:  Why, Ros – AIYEE!

[GRAMS:  Sound of ascending slide whistle, then rapidly descending slide whistle]

[GRAMS:  Sound of inverted bowl being submerged in very thin mud (sloppy blattering sound)]

Vicky:  Ooh, ICK!  You got some on me!

Rosie:  Less than what B’onss got on him, Vicky.  B’onss, you and K’nutt get out of my kitchen and go get cleaned up.

B’onss:  Hey!  What’s all dis mess here!  It’s all sticky and stinks!

Nick:  Be asking your brother that question.

B’onss:  K’nutt, is youse tryin’ to make cocoanut puddin’ again?

K’nutt:  Y-y-yeah.

B’onss:  Didn’t Ma tell youse to not make that slop!  It’ll be like Christmas two years ago!

Rosie:  This, I know I’m going to regret, but what happened two years ago?

Vicky:  Rosie, trust me on this one – you do NOT want to know.

Rosie:  Well, Vicky, you know the old saw about cats and curiosity.

K’nutt:  I g-g-got an old s-s-saw at h-home . . .

B’onss:  Shaddap yer muzzle!

[GRAMS:  Soft bonking sound, along with glooping noises]

B’onss:  What the - ?  I’m stuck to youse, K’nutt!  What’d youse make the puddin’ with this time?

K’nutt:  W-W-Well, B’onss, I d-d-couldn’t find any g-gelatin.  So I used –

B’onss:  What?

K’nutt:  M-M-Mucilage.

Vicky:  Eww.

Rosie:  You used glue in the pudding?  It’ll take WEEKS to get this mess cleaned up!

Nick:  No worry, Rosie.  Nikolai Ivanovich find trumpeter.

Rosie:  A trumpeter?  Do I want to know why?

Nicky:  Is wary simple.  Trumpeter play “To the Post.”  Glue in pudding –

Vicky:  Rosie?

Rosie:  Yeah, you’re right, Vicky.  I don’t want to hear the rest of it, Nick.  Just get this place cleaned up.  And you two, get out!  And don’t come back until you’re cleaned up!

B’onss:  Okeh, Rosie.  C’mon, youse little . . .

K’nutt:  OW!  L-Leggo my ear, B’onss.

B’onss:  I wanna, K’nutt, but right I’m stuck ta youse.  C’mon.

Rosie:  The back door, you idiots.  Don’t track that slop into the dining room!

Vicky:  Should I get the dustpan and mop, Rosie?

Rosie:  No, Vicky.  You might get stuck to the floor.  Nick, get this place cleaned up.  Thank goodness we weren’t planning on opening today.

Vicky:  What about those poor hungry bureaucrats from the Althing?

Rosie:  We’ll offer them cocoanut pudding.  Imagine it – an entire government struck dumb.

Vicky:  As well as daft?

Rosie:  (giggles)  Exactly!

[GRAMS:  “Foomph!” sound; sounds of a struggle and yowling noises]

Nick:  Oh ho!  The two have stopped with the sticking!

Rosie:  How’s that, Nick?  They seemed pretty joined at the hip.

Vicky:  As well as paws, ankles, tails, and let’s not mention the numb skulls.

Nick:  Nikolai Ivanovich see the two walk outside.  B’onss, he try swing at K’nutt’s nut, miss, fall into pile dead leaves.

Vicky:  And K’nutt?

Nick:  K’nutt, he fall as well.  They are fighting.

[GRAMS:  Sound of a scuffle.]

Vicky:  Place your bets, folks.

Rosie:  I’ll have a dollar on the stupid one.

Vicky:  No fair hedging your bets, Rosie.

[GRAMS:  Sound of door opening, sound of bell ringing.]

Franklin Stagg:  Excuse me?  Miss Baumgartner?

Rosie:  Oh, hi, Inspector!  Is it lunchtime already?

Franklin:  No, not just yet.  I was wondering if you recall hearing anything, er, when you were, um, in bed.

Vicky:  Rosie, remember the censor.

Rosie:  Hush, Vicky.  Why, no, Fr- er, Inspector. 

Franklin:  It was rather disconcerting, but I could swear that I could hear conversations.  Lower than a whisper.

Vicky:  Sure it wasn’t Rosie, whispering sweet nothings?

Rosie:  Hush, Vicky!  Inspector, I don’t have your sense of hearing, you know.  Could it have been the Althing?

Franklin:  Why do you say the Althing?

Rosie:  Well, they ARE one step up from cockroaches, right?  Could have been an all-night session.

Franklin:  You really shouldn’t bite the paw that feeds you, Miss Baumgartner.

Rosie:  What bit would you like me to bite, Inspector?

[GRAMS:  Wind noises]

Vicky:  Careful, Rosie.  You keep batting your eyelashes like that, you’ll blow the napkins off the counter.

Rosie:  Oh, you mean the serviettes?

Nick:  (grumbles)  Serviette Union . . .

Vicky:  Hush, Nick.

[GRAMS:  Sound of bell ringing, sound of door closing.]

Don Prickles:  Hello!  Anyone in here?

Rosie:  Didn’t expect to open today.  Welcome to Luchow’s!  We don’t get many porcupines in the Spontoons.

Prickles:  With the prices here, I’m not surprised at all.  (sniffs)  Is that cocoanut I smell?

Rosie:  Er, yes.

Prickles:  I thought this place was nutty.  Look, do you have any proper food?

Vicky:  Here’s a menu, you.

[GRAMS:  Whooshing sound, ‘thunk’ sound as if a thrown knife embeds itself in wood]

Prickles:  Impressive!  I didn’t know you could throw a menu like a knife.  Now, do you see this?

[GRAMS:  ‘Poink!’ sound]

Vicky:  Looks like a quill.  Did it hurt when you pulled it out of your scalp?

Prickles:  Not at all, I assure you.  Now, you see that flower over there?

Vicky:  Yeah?

Prickles:  Watch.

[GRAMS:  Sound of spring; whooshing sound; ‘thunk’ sound]

Vicky:  Nice!  You speared that flower nicely.  Where’d you learn to do that?

Prickles:  A nice young woman of my acquaintance.  Now, would you like to take my order, or do you want me to die of hunger?

Vicky:  By all means, order.  If you die of hunger here, it’ll put the rest of the customers off their lunch.

Prickles:  Fine.  Is the fish fresh?

Nick:  Vicky had to slap it earlier.  Is that being fresh enough?

Prickles:  What did it do, girlie?  Fin-dle your rear?

Vicky:  Fair warning: You’re playing with fire.

Prickles:  Better than playing with my food.  Which reminds me . . . can I get the grilled swordfish?  With a salad?

Vicky:  Sure thing.

(Musical bridge)

[GRAMS:  Sound of diners; indistinct dialogue, silverware clattering against plates]

Rosie:  Well, at least we got the kitchen cleaned up for the lunch crowd – Vicky!  Vicky!

Vicky:  What, Rosie?

Rosie:  Come out here and take a look at this. 

Vicky:  Huh!  Didn’t know Spontoon had a Mardi Gras.

Rosie:  Yeah, they’re a bit odd, aren’t they?  I’ve seen them before.

Vicky:  Oh?  Fever dream, or hangover?

Rosie:  Ha ha.  The dopey-looking golden retriever in the polo shirt and the ascot is the leader, I think.  I’ve seen the tabby with the glasses around the Lotus once or twice maybe, the minkess in the short skirt’s a bit of a scandal – if the skirt were any shorter, it’d be her shirt– 

Vicky:  What about that other guy?

Rosie:  What about him?  Scruffy canine of no fixed variety, just sits around and stuffs his face.  Never gains an ounce either, darn him.  Talks like he’s drunk a Nootnops Blue factory’s entire stock.

Vicky:  Should I throw them out?

Rosie:  Maybe later.  For now we’ll assume their money’s good.  Hi, kids! 

Jim:  Hi!  We saw that the soda fountain was closed, so we came here for lunch!

Chloe:  I want a salad!

Thelma:  Hmm . . . I’d like a hamburger sandwich.

Rags:  (mumbles indistinctly, slightly dreamy tone of voice)

Rosie:  What was that?

Rags:  (mumbles indistinctly)

Chloe:  He says he wants three hamburger sandwiches and two bottles of Nootnops Blue.

Vicky:  I think he’s had quite enough of that already.

The Hon. A. Cadbury Mouchoir:  Good afternoon, Rosie!

Vicky:  I’ll go get the orders filled.  You’re on your own, Rosie.

Rosie:  Thanks a lot, Vicky.  What can I do for you, Mooch?

Mouchoir:  I pray you, dearest Rosie, to not use that tone of voice.  You wound me with it.

Rosie:  Better than wounding you with other things, you know.

Mouchoir:  Your wit is still singular, Madam, even though your spots are plural.

Rosie:  Enough of that.  What do you want?

Mouchoir:  Merely a small amount of sustenance, gracious lady.  I fear I grow faint from the tropical heat here.  It puts me in mind of my time in India.

Rosie:  And what were you doing in India?

Mouchoir:  Sweltering, my dear, sweltering.  Did you know -

Rosie:  No, I don’t.

Mouchoir:  - that Alexander the Great invaded India?

Rosie:  Why?  Was he out of curry?

Mouchoir:  One can only guess.  Anyhow, one of the reasons Alexander the Great was so victorious was his impeccable timing. See, he had his court alchemists come up with a concoction that, when soaked into a cloth and worn about the wrist, would change colors at precise intervals, thus making coordinated attacks simple.

Rosie:  Interesting.

Mouchoir:  Very.  To this day, they're known as Alexander's Rag Time Bands.

(pause)

Vicky:  Here’s a glass of cold iced tea, Mooch, if you’ll promise never to tell that story again.

Mouchoir:  As good as done, my dear!  But, you know, that same conqueror got all teary-eyed when the marathon dance craze ended a few years ago.  He'd been very fond of South American dance mixed with polkas.

Nick:  Wait for it . . . .

Mouchoir:  He wept when he had no more whirls to conga.

Rosie:  Vicky?

Vicky:  Yeah, Rosie?

Rosie:  Give him a sandwich.  Mooch?

Mouchoir:  Yes, Rosie?

Rosie:  If you come back here today, I’ll . . .

Mouchoir:  Say no more, kind madam.  This afternoon is my weekly appointment with my doctor.

Rosie:  Your doctor?  A psychiatrist?

Mouchoir:  Heavens, no!  I am sound of mind.

Vicky:  Hear that hollow echo.

Mouchoir:  I am under the care of a doctor of physic. 

Nick:  Oh?  And who is that being?

Mouchoir:  He can predict my every movement.

Rosie, Vicky, Nick:  OUT!

[GRAMS:  Whooshing noise, sound of door opening, closing]

Nick:  Nikolai Ivanovich is thinking that he is not taking the much more of the cat’s jokes.

Vicky:  Oh?  They better than yours?

Nick:  Hah!  Nikolai Ivanovich wary good comedian!  He daily kill the officers at Imperial Air Corps party!

Prickles:  Not exactly a ringing endorsement of his cooking, is it?

Rosie:  What?  You want a refill of your drink?

Prickles:  Are they free refills?

Rosie:  Free refills of water, not iced tea or Orca-Cola.

Prickles:  If it’s not free, I don’t want any then.

Vicky:  Ah!  A cheapskate, huh?

Prickles:  Cheapskate!  Of course not!  I’ll have you know, young woman, that in my day -

Rosie:  The trains ran on time?

Prickles:  - I was the financial advisor to the entire United States government.

Vicky:  At last, the blame gets applied.

Prickles:  In that case, I shall have the check, if you please.

Vicky:  Nothing would give me greater pleasure, I’ll tell you that.  Here.

Prickles:  And here you are.

[GRAMS:  Sound of coins on wooden table]

Prickles:  Good day.

[GRAMS:  Sound of chair scraping back]

Vicky:  Hey!  Where’s my tip?

Prickles:  It’s there.  Precisely ten percent, and not a penny less.  Good day.

[GRAMS:  Sound of door opening and closing, bell ringing]

Vicky:  OOOH!  You do your best, give good service, and some spiky skinflint stiffs you on the tip!

Nick:  Nikolai Ivanovich think this man wary –

Rosie:  Don’t say ‘prickly,’ Nick, or else!

Nick:  Oho!  And now Nikolai Ivanovich is the curious.  For what is the or else, Rosie?

Rosie:  I put cocoanut pudding on the menu.

Nick:  CHORT!  That is indeed an or else to be the reckoned with.  Nikolai go back to kitchen, pray before icon.

Rosie:  Good.

[GRAMS:  Sound of door opening, bell ringing]

Rosie:  Hello, Inspector!  Your usual for lunch?

Franklin:  Perhaps a bit later, Miss Baumgartner.  I – well, the Constabulary’s heard some odd reports this morning.  Have you heard anything about a shaggy, two-headed monster making the rounds?

Rosie:  Errmmmm . . . .

Jim:  A monster! 

Franklin:  Excuse me?

Jim:  Well, you said monster, right?

Franklin:  In the absence of a more accurate term, yes.

Chloe:  Jim, remember your blood pressure.

Jim:  Oh, c’mon, Chloe!  This is right up our street!  We solve mysteries all the time, Inspector.

Franklin:  (skeptically)  Ohhhhh?

Thelma:  So I’ve heard.

Rags:  (mumbles indistinctly)

Jim:  Exactly!

Rosie:  Erm, you can understand him?

Jim:  Sure!  Can’t you?

Vicky:  Something’s lost in translation.

Jim:  Anyway, Inspector, we hunt monsters and solve mysteries all the time.  We’ll take this case off your paws and we’ll have it solved by sundown!

Franklin:  That quickly, eh?

Thelma:  Or sooner.  Depends on whether he gets distracted.

Franklin:  Well, it’s a slow day.  Go ahead.

Jim:  Great!  C’mon, gang!

[GRAMS:  Sounds of feet, door opening and closing]

Vicky:  I thought they’d never leave.

Rosie:  Oh, they’ll be back, Vicky.  They forgot to pay their bill.  Now, Inspector, is there anything I can get you?

[GRAMS:  Sound of wind blowing]

Vicky:  Rosie! I warned you about the napkins!

Rosie:  Oops, sorry Vicky. 

Franklin:  There is something you can do for me, Miss Baumgartner.  Tell me, do you still have that old Victrola upstairs in your apartment?

Rosie:  Sure, Inspector.

Franklin:  Good.  Shall we go upstairs?

Rosie:  Why, Inspector!

[GRAMS:  Wind noises]

Vicky:  Rosie!  Napkins!

Rosie:  Oops.  Okeh, Inspector, let’s go upstairs.  Shall I ask Nick to get your lunch ready?

Franklin:  Thank you.  That would be very gracious of you.  A light salad, please.

[GRAMS:  Two sets of footsteps, one a limping walk]

[GRAMS: Door opening and closing.]

Rosie:  All right, Inspector.  What’s the mystery?

Franklin:  If you could get the sound horn from the Victrola, please, and bring it over to the bed.

Rosie:  Franklin!  Should I alert the censor?

Franklin:  (soft snort)  No.  Perhaps later.

Rosie:  Hee!

Franklin:  Now, listen carefully.  Do you hear it?  Voices?

[GRAMS:  Very soft multiple voices off-mike]

Rosie:  Just barely, Franklin.

Franklin:  Good.  Can you hear where it might be loudest?

Rosie:  Hmm . . . under the bed!

Franklin:  I’d like you to use the sound horn –

Rosie:  Like an ear trumpet!

Franklin:  Exactly.

Rosie:  Okeh.  Let’s give a listen here . . .

[GRAMS: Bedbug voices slightly sped up.]

Colonel Rico Cimex:   - Comrades!  When we have finished here we shall march on!

Bedbug Revolutionary Army:  Yay!

Cimex:  I, Colonel Rico Cimex, shall lead you!  We shall attack capitalism at its heart!

B.R.A.:  Yay!

Cimex:  We shall march on Gnu York!

Rosie:  Good grief!  Did you hear that, Franklin?  I’ve got REDS UNDER THE BED!

Franklin:  Palmer was right, it would seem.

Rosie:  Hey!  What are you little vampires doing under my bed?

Cimex:  Not so loud, you spotted hussy!  You’ve got a big voice, and we’ve got little ears!

Rosie:  Never mind about that – what the blazes are you doing under my bed?

Cimex:  Holding a rally.  It’s a free country.

Rosie:  And what are you doing at night?  Are you biting me in my sleep?

Cimex:  Hey, a guy’s gotta eat, sister.  What are you griping about?  You’ve got enough to spare, and we only take little bites –

Rosie:  I prefer my spots black, not red.  Franklin, what should I do?

Franklin:  Well, Palmer would raid –

Bedbugs (collectively):  RAID?!!

Rosie:  He’s not here, so I’m going to get the exterminators.

Bedbugs:  EXTERMINATORS!

[GRAMS:  Excited hubbub]

Cimex:  Hush, hush!  Quiet, Comrades!  This spotted giant won’t scare us off.

Bedbugs:  Wanna bet?

[GRAMS:  Excited hubbub]

Rosie:  Hmm!  They’re moving to another part of the floor.  Hey!  You’re not a bedbug, you’re a flea.

Flea:  Good eye, sister.

Rosie:  Why aren’t you running?

Flea:  Me?  I’m just a fellow traveler.

Vicky:  (off-mike)  Rosie!

Rosie:  Oh boy.  When Vicky calls like that, it must be trouble.  What do you think I should do, Franklin?

Franklin:  I’d call for the exterminators.  Bedbugs are hard to bribe – they won’t take blood money.

Rosie:  Not a red cent, huh?  You know, I would expect that joke from Nick, not you, Franklin.

Franklin:  Sorry.

Rosie:  I’ll make a note to call the exterminators.  Inspector, let’s go downstairs and see what Vicky’s yelling about.  I’ll just make a note to call the exterminators.

Bedbugs:  AIYEE!

Rosie:  And you little bloodsuckers clear off before they get here.

[GRAMS:  Sound of pen scratching on paper]

Rosie:  Let’s go, Fr – er, Inspector.

Franklin:  After you, Miss Baumgartner.

[GRAMS:  Two sets of footsteps, one a limping walk]

Rosie:  Oh, good.  Your lunch is waiting for you, Inspector.

Franklin:  Thank you, Miss Baumgartner.

[GRAMS:  Limping, shuffling walk]

Rosie:  Now, Vicky, what’s up?  When you shout like that, it usually means K’nutt’s been trying to take orders.

Vicky:  Thankfully it’s nothing as bad as that, Rosie.  That spiny guy, Prickles?

Rosie:  Yeah, what about him?

Vicky:  He’s in the kitchen . . . with a health inspector.

Rosie:  What!?

[GRAMS:  Sproing/quiver sound]

Vicky:  Rosie, pull those claws in, okay?

Rosie:  That little . . . stiff you on the tip, THEN bring a health inspector in?  Why, I oughta . . .

Vicky:  Rosie, relax. 

Rosie:  Why?

Vicky:  It’s Mr. Anatida.

Rosie:  Oh!  Why didn’t you say so earlier?  He’s a good old duck.  Always passes us, and always has an eye for the ladies. 

Vicky:  Exactly!  You know he made a pass at me the last time he had dinner here?

Rosie:  No!

Vicky:  I’ve been talking to some of the other waitresses around, and he always has eyes for the canine ladies.  (lowers voice)  I’m told that it runs in the family.

Rosie:  (lowers voice)  Oh really?  Do tell Tante Rosie!

Vicky:  (low voice)  Well, I heard that his grandmother . . . (whispers)

Rosie:  No!

Vicky:  I’m told it’s the truth.

Rosie:  Well!  That certainly explains how he was able to sniff out that spoiled food over at Malakana’s Diner last month.  Okeh, let’s go see what Prickles’ sticking point is.

Vicky:  He’s a porcupine; he’s got a lot of sticky points.

Rosie:  Oh, ha ha.

[GRAMS:  Sound of door opening, closing; bell ringing]

Prickles:  I tell you, that fish was tough!  It had to be frozen!  And the salad was almost rotten, too!

Nick:  Nikolai Ivanovich is telling you, little stickleback, that the fish Nikolai Ivanovich serves is always fresh!

Mr. Anatida:  Oh yes, yes.  Mr. Lopanearov is quite right, Mr. Prickles.  I have been inspecting this restaurant for quite some time, and have never noted a single problem.  Well, apart from the handyfurs, of course.  Oh, hello, Miss Baumgartner!

Rosie:  Hello, Mr. Anatida.  What has this troublemaker been telling you?

Mr. Anatida:  What kind of trouble has he been making?

Rosie:  Insulting my waitress, then shorting her on her tip, that’s what.

Prickles:  (sputters)  Well, I never!

Nick:  I am thinking that is one problem, yass.  Nikolai Ivanovich has always wondered how it is you manage that.

Prickles:  Manage what?

Nick:  Nikolai Ivanovich cannot say.  The censor is leeeestening, always, you know.

Prickles:  “Leeeestening,” eh?  And just what is the censor “leeeestening” for?

Nick:  He is leeeestening for how many times you say “leeeestening,” you silly fellow you.

Rosie:  Nick?

Nick:  Da, Rosie?

Rosie:  Could you get me a cup of tea?  Why don’t you go directly to the tea plantation over on South Island to get it?  I’ll wait.

Nick:  Ho ho!  Nikolai Ivanovich know where to get it, and it is not on the South Island he is getting it.

Mr. Anatida:  I could sit here and leeeesten – er, listen to this all day, but I’m not getting any younger, you know.  What I want to know is why you lodged a complaint against this establishment, Mr. Prickles.

Prickles:  You’ve got eyes!  Look around you; this place is filthy.

Nick:  Filthy!  Nikolai Ivanovich say the only filthy thing here is your mind.

Mr. Anatida:  Now, now, Mr. Lopanearov.  Let’s not descend into personalities.

Nick:  Hah!  Is impossible to descend to the personalities, when this little stickleback has none.

Prickles:  I’ll show you, you misbegotten fry cook . . . ah!  The oven hood!  Those are always dirty.  Come on, Anatida, give me a leg up here.

Mr. Anatida:  Huh?  What!  Hey!  I’m a duck, not a stepladder!

Vicky:  Looks like Prickles is getting a boost from an old canard.

Mr. Anatida:  Please, you’re heavy – oof!

[GRAMS:  Sound of crash, complete with clatter of pots and pans]

Rosie:  Mr. Anatida!  Are you all right?

Mr. Anatida:  I – I think so –

Prickles:  AAAHHHH!! 

Vicky:  What now?

Prickles:  I’ve been stuck by one of my own quills!

Vicky:  Good!  You’ve been a pain in MY rear; now take some of your own medicine.

Nick:  Ho-ho-ho!  The spiky one is now bit of –

Rosie:  Nick, remember the censor, or else.

Nick:  Nikolai Ivanovich remember the censor, but is wondering what is the or else?

Rosie:  Or I add K’nutt’s cocoanut pudding recipe to the menu.

Nick:  AHHH!  Nikolai Ivanovich keep mouth shut to himself now, yes?

Vicky:  Good.  Should I get the first aid kit, Rosie?

Rosie:  He’s at school, I think.

Vicky:  Too bad.  Looks like he’ll have to go to the hospital, then.  I hear they use pliers for quills.

Prickles:  You haven’t heard the last from me!

Rosie:  I didn’t want to hear the first from you.

(musical bridge)

Vicky:  Rosie?  Where are you?

Rosie:  Upstairs, Vicky.

[GRAMS:  Sound of footsteps going upstairs]

Vicky:  What’s the matter, Rosie?

Rosie:  I wrote down a note to call the exterminators, and now I can’t find it.

Vicky:  Exterminators?

Rosie:  Yeah.  I discovered I’ve got bedbugs.

[GRAMS:  Whooshing sound]

Vicky (off-mike):  Bedbugs, you say?  Well, I’ll just stay here on the landing, if you don’t mind.

Rosie:  It should be okeh, Vicky.  I hear they only come out at night.

Vicky (off-mike):  If it’s all the same to you, Rosie, if I want anything biting me at night it had better be a rich, handsome tod with a ring in his paw.

Rosie:  Heh!  Now, let me see . . . where did I leave it?  That’s right – I left it on my bureau, but it’s not here now.

Vicky (back on mike):  Blown off the bureau?  You have a window open.

Rosie:  Maybe. 

[GRAMS:  Sound of person moving about; thump like knees hitting the floor]

Rosie:  Hmm . . . Aha!  Here it is, under the bed.

[GRAMS:  Squishing sound, wide selection of very tiny screams]

Bedbugs:  AIYEE!  Colonel Cimex!

Cimex:  What’s wrong, my comrades?

Bedbugs:  The big bad spotty woman has found the note we stole!

Cimex:  Quiet!  Ixnay on the ealingstay

Bedbugs:  Not only that, but she’s crushed the entire Fifth Column!

Cimex:  She what?  Rats!  We were going to attack her soft underbelly tonight!

Rosie:  So, stealing from me, huh?  Just for that I’m going to a hotel for the night.  You little vampires can go hungry.

Bedbugs:  Aww . . .

Rosie:  And don’t go making sad puppy eyes at me . . .

(Sad violin music)

Rosie:  And can the schmaltzy music, too.  You get bupkis until I get back here with the exterminators.

Bedbugs:  Exterminators?  AIYEE!

Cimex:  For crying out loud, you vast-bottomed hussy!  Will you stop saying the E word?

Rosie:  “Vast-bottomed hussy?”  Exterminators!

Bedbugs:  AIYEE!

Rosie:  Exterminators!

Bedbugs:  AIYEE!

Harlow:  Erm, Rosie?

Rosie:  Yes, Harlow?

Harlow:  You’re padding the scene out a bit.

Rosie:  Oh.  Well, tell us a bit about Fire Cheetah gasoline while I pack up a few things.

Harlow:  Certainly, Rosie.  Well, the end of October is coming, and you know what that means…

Bedbugs: CANDY!

Harlow:  Aside from that.

Bedbugs: MORE CANDY!

Harlow:  Welllll, yes and no.  What it actually means is that now is the time of year to have your car checked up.  There are many things you should have looked at before winter comes.  Are your tires capable of taking snow and ice?  Is your radiator leaking?  Do you have enough anti-freeze?  Have you changed your oil?

Bedbugs: No!

Harlow:  Hmm?

Bedbugs: But we don’t have a car, anyway.

Harlow:  Well, for those who do have a car, you can take it to any one of the Standard of Rhode Island service stations from coast to coast, and have a specialist go over your car from front to back.  And you can rely on Standard service and Standard parts to be the best value around.  And while you’re at it, you can fill up your tank with Fire Cheetah, the super-premium gasoline that allows your engine to operate at its best.  So remember, for your sake, this coming winter, don’t be unsafe, be SORI.  Standard of Rhode Island.

(musical bridge)

And now, we have a rendition of Richard Rodgers’ and Lorenz Hart’s song “Thou Swell,” from the musical “A Connecticut Yankee,” performed by the Mantle Sisters and Douglas Hartman.
(orchestra starts up)
He:

   Babe, we are well met,
   As in a spell met,
   I lift my helmet,
   Sandy; You're just dandy.
   For just this here lad.
   You're such a fistfull.
   My eyes are mistful,
   Are you too wistful to care,
   Do say you care to say;
   "Come near lad."
   You are so graceful,
   have you wings?
   You have a face full of nice things;
   You have no speaking voice, dear,
   With ev'ry word it sings

Refrain:

   Thou swell! Thou witty!
   Thou sweet! Thou grand!
   Wouldst kiss me pretty?
   Wouldst hold my hand?
   Both thine eyes are cute too;
   What they do to me.
   Hear me holler I choose a Sweet lollapaloosa in thee.
   I'd feel so rich in a hut for two;
   Two rooms and a kitchen I'm sure would do;
   Give me just a plot of,
   Not a lot of land,
   And Thou swell! Thou Witty! Thou Grand!


She:

    Thy words are queer, Sir,
    Unto mine ear, Sir,
    Yet thou'rt a dear, Sir, to me;
    Thou could'st woo me;
    Now could'st though try, knight.
    I'd murmur "Swell", too,
    And like it well too;
    More thou wilt tell to Sandy.
    Thou art dandy;
    Now art though my knight.
    Thine arms are martial;
    Thou hast grace;
    My cheek is partial to they face;
    And if they lips grow weary,
    Mine are resting place.

Refrain:

   Thou swell! Thou witty!
   Thou sweet! Thou grand!
   Wouldst kiss me pretty?
   Wouldst hold my hand?
   Both thine eyes are cute too;
   What they do to me.
   Hear me holler I choose a Sweet lollapaloosa in thee.
   I'd feel so rich in a hut for two;
   Two rooms and a kitchen I'm sure would do;
   Give me just a plot of,
   Not a lot of land,
   And Thou swell! Thou Witty! Thou Grand!

[GRAMS:  Sound of door opening, bell ringing]

Chloe:  Hi!

Vicky:  Hello!  Care for a menu?  And where’s the rest of the team?

Chloe:  Oh, they’ll be along shortly.  They have to get poor Rags free of the potter’s.

Vicky:  What happened?

Chloe:  Well, he claims that he saw the monster, and somehow ended up with his head stuck in a clay pot.

Vicky:  Is he sure he saw it?  Or only one?  Or do you think it could be all those bottles of Nootnops Blue he’s been guzzling?

Chloe:  Yeah, it could be that too.

Vicky:  You know, kid, about that monster –

[GRAMS:  Sound of door opening, bell ringing]

Jim:  Hi!  Can we get some lunch?

Thelma:  Yeah, it’s hungry work, chasing monsters.

Rags:  (indistinct mumbling)

Vicky:  Pardon?

Rags:  (indistinct mumbling)

Chloe:  Oh, he’ll have three hamburger sandwiches with cheese and extra pickles.

Vicky:  And Nootnops Blue?

Rags:  (indistinct mumbling)

Thelma:  No, an Orca-Cola.

Vicky:  Yech.  You’d be better off with the Nootnops Blue.  So, how’s the monster hunt going? 

Jim:  Rags spotted him, didn’t you Rags?

Rags:  (indistinct mumbling)

Jim:  See?  Big shaggy thing with two heads.

Vicky:  Uh huh.

Nick:  Nikolai Ivanovich once see big shaggy things with two heads.

Jim:  Oh?

Nick:  Da, is true!  Nikolai Ivanovich almost marry her!  Ho-ho-ho!

Vicky:  You’ll have to forgive him; he’s from Vladivostok.

Chloe:  Er, yes.  Anyway, we have a plan to trap the thing.

Vicky:  I look forward to that.

Thelma:  Really?

Vicky:  Oh good Lord, yes.  Gets slow here in the afternoons.

[GRAMS:  Sound of door opening, bell ringing]

Vicky:  Hi Rosie!

Rosie:  Hi, Vicky.  Let me introduce the Thompson twins, Derrick David and Donald Dwight. 

Derrick David Thompson:  Hi.

Donald Dwight Thompson:  We’re exterminators.

Vicky:  Fancy that.  And a nicer pair of tods I’ve never seen before.  Rosie, are these the guys who are going to run off the Red Menace upstairs?

Rosie:  It’s a sure thing. 

Vicky:  A sure thing?  Do you remember the last time you bet on the ponies?

Rosie:  Hey!  It finally came in, didn’t it?

Vicky:  Yeah . . . behind the glue truck.  And the undertaker.  And the county coroner…

Rosie:  C’mon, guys, and I’ll show you where they’re camping out.

(musical bridge)

Rosie:  There’s the bed.  The little indefinites should still be under there.

Derrick David Thompson:  Okeh, let's set up our magnifier and take a look . . . uh, oh.

Rosie:  What's up?  Or, rather, down there?
 
Derrick:  Take a look at this, Don.
 
Donald Dwight Thompson:  Hmm . . . yeah, they're going to be a problem.
 
Rosie:  What is it?  Don't keep me in suspense.
 
Derrick:  Here, Rosie, take a look.  You don't have ordinary bedbugs.
 
Rosie:  I don't?  Let me see - what's that?
 
Derrick:  Well, those are their houses.
 
Rosie:  Yeah, but log cabins?  Made of loose strands of my fur?
 
Donald:  Well, they use only the best.  But closer.  See the bedbug sitting on the front porch?
 
Rosie:  Yes.
 
Derrick:  With the straw hat and corncob pipe?
 
Rosie:  Um, yes?
 
Donald:  You've got Arkansas bedbugs.  Don't worry, though.  We have special remedies for them.

Rosie:  Do I dare ask?
 
Donald:  Well, we have a special spray, guaranteed to get rid of them.
 
Rosie:  What's it made of?
 
Donald:  Soap and water.
 
Derrick:  And if that doesn't work, we douse the mattress with whiskey and sprinkle sand around it.
 
Rosie:  What'll that do?
 
Derrick:  They'll get drunk and stone each other to death.

Rosie:  It doesn’t matter how you two do it, just get rid of them.

Cimex:  Brazen imperialist woman! 

Derrick:  Who’s that?

Rosie:  Their leader.  Little Red menace.

Donald:  Red?  Did you say Red?

Rosie:  Yeah, they’re tiny Reds.

Donald:  Red Arkansas bedbugs.  Wow, you don’t often see crossbred bedbugs like this.

Derrick:  Usually they cross-breed with the variety from Philadelphia.

Rosie:  Oh?  What are they like?

Donald:  They mainly infest streetcars.

Derrick:  The good thing is they’re having trouble finding a good place to stay – they’re getting rid of streetcars all over America, so I hear.

Rosie:  So?  You can get rid of these little vampires?

Donald:  Shouldn’t be too hard.

Rosie:  Okeh, I’ll leave you two to it.  Bye-bye-bedbugs.

Bedbugs:  AIYEE!

(musical bridge)

[GRAMS:  Mechanical noises, sounds of heavy objects dropping, clanging sounds, sounds continue under]

Vicky:  Good morning, Rosie!  How was the hotel?

Rosie:  Not bad.  The bed was hard, though – and lonely, too.  I only hope the twins have cleared out those little bedbugs.  What’s all the ruckus outside?

Vicky:  Those kids are setting up a monster trap.

Rosie:  Monster trap?  Has anyone told them yet?

Vicky:  Well, I keep trying to, but none of them will stand still long enough to listen.

Rosie:  Look on the bright side, Vicky.

Vicky:  What’s that, Rosie?

Rosie:  We have fools chasing idiots.  What could possibly happen?

Vicky:  I think I’ll call the Fire Department now, and avoid the rush.

Nick:  Am thinking this is good idea, Vicky.

[GRAMS:  Clanging sounds, door opening, bell ringing]

Franklin:  I was wondering if you had decided to erect a roller coaster here, Miss Baumgartner.  Trying to draw in more customers?

Rosie:  No, Inspector.  Those kids are building it.  Vicky says it’s to trap the monster.

Franklin:  Yes, the monster.  Funny how it showed up about the same time B’onss and K’nutt went missing.  Their mother has been asking around for them.

[GRAMS:  Sound of door opening, closing; bell ringing]

Franklin:  Hello.  I take it that you’re ready with – well, whatever it is?

Jim:  Sure thing!  We have built a foolproof monster trap.

Thelma:  Baited with the one thing we’ve found out is completely irresistible to the monster.

Rosie:  And what’s that?

Chloe:  Cocoanuts.

Rosie:  Who knew?

Franklin:  That’s an impressive amount of material you’ve assembled there, just to trap one monster.

Rags:  (mumbles indistinctly)

Franklin:  What did he say?

Chloe:  He said that he had to do all the heavy lifting.

Thelma:  Look!  The monster’s coming!

Franklin:  Hmm, so it is.  You know, that looks very much like –

Rosie:  Hush, Franklin, please.  I want to see this.

Jim:  Now watch . . . the monster grabs the cocoanut, and . . .

[GRAMS:  ‘Twang!’ sound, followed by rhythmic sound of heavy metal object on wood]

Chloe:  The string attached to the cocoanut releases the steam iron, which makes its way down the stepladder . . .

Vicky:  Why do you need that?

Thelma:  I like the effect. 

[GRAMS:  Thumping sound, followed by the sound of breaking glass and a louder, deeper twang sound]

Thelma:  The iron lands on the last step, breaking the empty Orca-Cola bottle –

Rosie:  What about the deposit on the bottle?

Thelma:  - And tripping the noose!

[GRAMS:  Different twang sound, followed by whooshing noise and screaming]

Rags:  (indistinct mumbling)

Jim:  Right you are, Rags.  The monster’s got a great set of lungs – well, two heads, you know.

[GRAMS:  Whooshing sound with slide whistle, followed by a bang like a sack of flour striking a bucket; slow metallic ratcheting sound]

Rosie:  I'm impressed.  They put up that roller coaster in record time.

Thelma:  You should see us with the Tunnel of Love.

Rosie:  I can imagine.

[GRAMS:  Ratcheting sound slows]

Franklin:  It's reached the apex . . .

[GRAMS:  Whooshing sound, screaming]

Nick:  And it goes!  Fwoosh!

Jim:  Watch – this was my idea.  The roller coaster car speeds down to that pile of rocks –

Vicky:  Rocks?

Jim:  Sure!  You need something stout to stop the car.

[GRAMS:  Sound of crash; metal and rocks smashing together; tinny triangle sound; slowly rising screaming as if monster is approaching]

Nick:  Nikolai Ivanovich is wondering what is happening the next.

Thelma:  Well, we need to subdue the monster, so . . .

[GRAMS:  Banging sounds of various types – wood, bamboo, metal pipes – against a heavy object; groans and yelps]

Jim:  The monster passes through these turnstiles, see? 

Franklin:  Ah, yes.  That stack of old batons and nightsticks the Constabulary sold off.

Rosie:  Looks like they got half the plumbing from Casino Island as well.

[GRAMS:  Banging sounds]

Rosie:  And the turnstiles from the Sixth Avenue El.

Vicky:  That sort of attraction would go over big in Little Rock.

[GRAMS:  Banging sounds, screaming]

Vicky:  Ouch!  High sticking – he’ll be in the sin bin for two.

Nick:  Look out –

[GRAMS:  Banging sound, scream]

[GRAMS:  Foghorn:  “BEEEEEE-OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”]

Nick:  Nikolai Ivanovich thinking that will leave mark.

Rosie:  Hey!  The nightsticks have knocked most of the stuck-on crust off.

Nick:  Stuchon Krustov?  That is Nikolai Ivanovich’s uncle – twice removed.

Jim:  Why twice removed?

Nick:  Collectors kept bringing him back.

[GRAMS:  Last few banging sounds, groans]

Rosie:  Oooh, that’ll leave a mark too.

Chloe:  And now the monster heads for its trap . . .

Vicky:  You mean this wasn’t trappy enough?

Chloe:  No.  You have to be thorough when dealing with monsters.

[GRAMS:  Two splashing sounds, followed by a heavy wooden thump; tiny bell sound:  ‘Ding!’]

Jim:  And he’s CAUGHT!  The trap’s got him!

Rosie:  Isn’t that a lobster trap?

Vicky:  Pity it’s not a mouth trap – it would snare Mooch’s false teeth.

Nick:  Well, Vicky, you know what is said – build the better mouth trap, and world will beat a path to the door.

[GRAMS:  Sound of slap]

Rosie:  Why are you looking so glum, Thelma?

Thelma:  I figured the monster would skip four times across the water.  It only skipped twice.  Nertz.

Jim:  Let’s go see what we caught.

Vicky:  Let’s tag along, Rosie.  I’m sure this’ll be fun.

Rosie:  Okeh.  Coming, Inspector?

Franklin:  Under the circumstances, I do need to see what they’ve caught.  I have to complete the report, you know.

[GRAMS:  Footsteps]

Jim:  What the - ?

B’onss:  OW!  Not again!

Rosie:  Again?!  No, wait, I don’t want to know.

Chloe:  All we caught were two very dirty foxes.

Rosie:  Cheer up.  They’re a pair of little monsters.

(ominous musical sting)

[GRAMS:  Soft, ponderous footsteps, slowly growing closer]

Thelma:  What’s that?

Chloe:  Whatever it is, it’s causing ripples in the lagoon.

Jim:  It’s getting closer . . .

[GRAMS:  Ponderous footsteps]

Rags:  (indistinct mumbling, but clearly frightened)

Jim, Thelma, Chloe:  WH-WHAT’S THAT!!?

Rosie:  Oh, that's B'onss' and K'nutt's mother.  Hi, Mrs. Brush!

Jim, Thelma, Chloe:  SHE BLOTTED OUT THE SUN!

B'onss:  Aw, nuts!

K'nutt:  I l-l-likes c-cocoanuts.

B'onss:  Ain't gonna be no cocoanuts, ya dim bulb.

K'nutt:  Aw, n-n-no . . .

B’onss:  Pudding for supper.

K’nutt:  T-t-that ain't so bad.

B’onss:  Durian pudding?

K’nutt:  Oh.

Rags:  (indistinct mumbling)

Jim:  You’re right, Rags.  All that work for nothing.

Thelma:  Nothing to show for it but the smell of rancid cocoanut.

Chloe:  Well, we can always find another monster.

Franklin:  Wait just a moment.  Who’s going to clean up this mess?

Jim:  I don’t know.  We never do.

Franklin:  I wouldn’t count on that.  I expect all of this cleaned up, or –

Thelma:  Or what?

Franklin:  I will have Mrs. Brush invite you all to dinner.  For durian pudding.

Chloe, Thelma, Jim, Rags:  AIYEE!

Jim:  Okeh, okeh, we’ll do it!

Vicky:  Should I get the broom and the dustpan, Rosie?

Rosie:  Sounds like a good idea, Vicky.  Give them to Rags.

Vicky:  Sure thing, Rosie.

[GRAMS:  Tiny footsteps approaching]

Cimex:  You huge-bottomed hussy!  You murderess!

Rosie:  What?  Get up on that chair so I can see you.

[GRAMS:  Scrambling sounds]

Cimex:  You had my army slaughtered, you spotted tart!

Rosie:  ‘Spotted tart?’  You better watch your mouth – wherever that might be . . .

Cimex:  You’ll find out!  I’ll be biting you every night for the rest of your life to make up for your wanton slaughter!  I’ll raise a new army –

Vicky:  How high?

Nick:  Two centimeter.

Cimex:  - And I’ll make you all pay!

Rosie:  Oh no you won’t.

Cimex:  And what can you do about it, you huge feline murderess?

Rosie:  This.

[GRAMS:  Squishing sound]

Cimex:  AIYEE!

Vicky:  That’s using your head, Rosie.

Nick:  Hah!  That is not head she is using to squish the little buggy.

Vicky:  True, but she’s using her natural assets.

Nick:  Da!  And it is great wherever she set it –

[GRAMS:  Sound of slap]

Cimex:  Ohhh!  That hurts!  Mother of Mercy, is this the end of Rico?

Rosie:  You gonna give up?

Cimex:  Oooh!  Ow!  Okay, okay, I give!  Uncle!  Uncle!

Vicky:  I think you’ve crushed his dreams, Rosie.

Franklin:  Not quite, Miss Knox.  ‘Twas booty subdued the beast.

[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 Kathryn Russell as Rosie, Jerome White as B'onss , K'nutt, and one of the Bedbug Army; Glenn Manning as Nick, Betty Bradley as Kara Karoksdottir, Leilani Goldfarb as Victoria Knox, and Horace Lovelace as Inspector Stagg, with special guest appearances by Irwin Wilson as Don Prickles and Sam Snyder as Colonel Rico Cimex.  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, "Thou Swell", 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.  Stay tuned for "The Mercury Theatre of the Air," and its production of "Seventeen."



Transcribed and edited by W.D. Reimer
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