Generic Radio Workshop Script Library (BACK)

Series: The Bickersons
Show: Eighth Wedding Anniversary
Date: Date Unknown

thanks to Paul Adomites for this transcript

ANNOUNCER:

And now, for your enjoyment, ladies and gentlemen, here are (Sam Gordon) and (Deb Krepps) as the Bickersons in "The Honeymoon is Over."

SFX:

ALARM CLOCK

JOHN:

(Startled, just coming to) What's the matter? All right. All right. Blanche! Blanche!

SFX:

KNOCKS IT OFF THE TABLE

BLANCHE:

(off) I'm putting a ribbon in my hair.

JOHN:

Where are you going?

BLANCHE:

I'm not going anywhere. I just thought I'd like to look nice this morning.

JOHN:

Why?

BLANCHE:

I knew you'd forget. You don't even know what day this is.

JOHN:

I do too. It's rent day.

BLANCHE:

It is not. Today happens to be our wedding anniversary.

JOHN:

Well, I knew it was a sad occasion of some kind.

BLANCHE:

What kind of a remark is that? That supposed to be funny?

JOHN:

No it isn't supposed to be funny, Blanche. I'm just groggy, that's all. I'm sorry.

BLANCHE:

I knew you'd forget it.

JOHN:

I didn't forget it.

BLANCHE:

So why didn't you say something?

JOHN:

Blanche, I just opened my eyes.

BLANCHE:

You forgot it.

JOHN:

I tell you I didn't forget it. But even if I did you'd remind me of it. Happy Anniversary.

BLANCHE:

Happy Anniversary. Is that all? No plans? We've been married eight years. Don't you want to do something?

JOHN:

No. It's too late to do anything.

BLANCHE:

It's sad about you. How you suffer. I didn't get such a bargain, you know.

JOHN:

Okay, okay.

BLANCHE:

There's better fish in the ocean than the one I caught.

JOHN:

There's better bait, too.

BLANCHE:

I'm serious.

JOHN:

Okay, I'm sorry. You hack away at me in the morning and I'm so exhausted I don't know what I'm saying.

BLANCHE:

You wouldn't be so exhausted if you went to bed at a reasonable hour.

JOHN:

I had to work overtime. Pour me some coffee.

BLANCHE:

Get paid?

JOHN:

I'll get paid.

BLANCHE:

What time did you get home?

JOHN:

12:30.

BLANCHE:

If you got home at 12:30, why were you so long getting into bed? I know for a fact you didn't come to bed till almost two.

JOHN:

I was in the kitchen putting the stuff away.

BLANCHE:

What stuff?

JOHN:

What's the matter, Blanche? You told me to bring stuff home for the party tonight. You invited a lot of your crumb friends and you told me to bring stuff. So I brought stuff.

BLANCHE:

Did you bring the potatoes for the potato salad?

JOHN:

I brought potatoes.

BLANCHE:

Did you pare them?

JOHN:

I pared them.

BLANCHE:

All of them?

JOHN:

All except one. He had a big knob on top and I couldn't find a mate for him.

BLANCHE:

I meant...

JOHN:

I know what you meant, Blanche. I even boiled them last night. Where are my pants? Who stole my pants?

BLANCHE:

Nobody stole your pants.

JOHN:

I just looked in the wastebasket and they're not there. My shoes are missing from the sink.

BLANCHE:

Don't be silly, John. Your pants are on a hanger in the closet and your shoes are in the shoe rack.

JOHN:

How'd they get there?

BLANCHE:

I put them there.

JOHN:

Well I wish you'd quit throwing my things around like that. Gotta get 'em or I'll be late.

Blanche:

You won't be late. Here are your pants.

JOHN:

Thanks. Blanche, these aren't my pants.

BLANCHE:

They're not? Then whose pants are they?

JOHN:

That's a good question, only I should be asking it.

BLANCHE:

Don't be so snide. They were baggy, so I pressed them.

JOHN:

Baggy.

BLANCHE:

Took me an hour to find the right crease. Be careful you don't wrinkle them now.

JOHN:

What's the difference? I like my pants to look lived in.

BLANCHE:

You're dragging the tops on the floor. Hold your trouser leg with your left hand then step in with your right foot...

JOHN:

Blanche! I've been putting on my own pants for over forty years and I don't need you to be the foreman of it! Hand me my tie.

BLANCHE:

Which one?

JOHN:

It doesn't matter, I want to use it for a belt. My suspenders are broken.

BLANCHE:

Why don't you wear your belt?

JOHN:

I'm using it to keep the soles from falling off my shoes.

BLANCHE:

John Bickerson, you know you're just...

JOHN: I know it! I know I haven't got a belt.
Where's my shirt? Where did you hide my shirt?

BLANCHE: I didn't hide it anywhere.

JOHN:

Well where is it?

BLANCHE:

I draped it around the canary's cage so he could sleep.

JOHN:

Is my shirt the only rag you could find to cover that bird's cage with?

BLANCHE:

Hasn't hurt anything, has it?

JOHN: No, but I don't like the way that bird pokes into my pockets. Every time I take a cigarette out I'm smokin' bird seed.
Why do you have to cover the cage anyway?

BLANCHE: The canary is sensitive to light.

JOHN:

Well, get him a pair of sunglasses. Leave my shirt alone. No bird's gonna sleep later than I do.

SFX:

BIRD SINGING.

JOHN:

Ah, shut up!

BLANCHE:

John, why must you be so mean on our anniversary?

JOHN:

Blanche, I'm not mean, I'm worried. Business is bad. My job is hanging by a thread.

BLANCHE:

You never should have quit your other job.

JOHN:

You made me quit. You said it wasn't dignified selling bowling balls. You were embarrassed to answer when people asked you what your husband sold.

BLANCHE:

Well, it sounded like it was trying to start a fight.

JOHN:

That's no problem for you. I gotta go.

BLANCHE:

Here. And don't forget your samples.

JOHN:

I won't forget it. This darned vacuum cleaner gets heavier every day. Straighten this hose around my neck, will you, Blanche?

BLANCHE:

There, there. Now got everything?

JOHN:

I think so. No, wait a minute. You got any money?

BLANCHE:

Well, there's fifty cents in the sugar bowl.

JOHN:

Fifty cents!

BLANCHE:

You can bring me the change when you come home.

JOHN:

Now listen, Blanche,something's gotta be done about this. I can't go down to work like a pauper every day. A man's gotta have a couple of dollars in his pocket.

BLANCHE:

Now don't yell at me.

JOHN:

I don't mind going with torn clothes and holes in my socks but I'm not gonna suffer through those lunches anymore.

BLANCHE:

What's the matter with your lunches?

JOHN:

You oughta know. You pack 'em for me. I'm just getting sick of carrying my lunch to work in a paper sack. Why can't I go to the restaurant like the other fellas?

BLANCHE:

John, what are you talking about? I haven't fixed your lunch for two years!

JOHN:

Oh, Blanche, every morning of my life I find my lunch wrapped in brown paper on the side of the sink.

BLANCHE:

John, that's the garbage!

JOHN:

Goodbye, Blanche.

BLANCHE:

Goodbye, dear. Happy Anniversary.