MUSIC:
DRAMATIC CHORD, UNDER
FORMAN:
RCA Victor, world-leader in radio, first in recorded music, and first in television, presents, transcribed, "The Phil Harris-Alice Faye Show"!
MUSIC:
RCA FANFARE, THEN THEME UP, THEN UNDER
FORMAN:
For your enjoyment, here is the Phil Harris-Alice Faye Show. Written by Ray Singer and Dick Chevillat. With Elliott Lewis, Walter Tetley, Robert North, Jeanine Roose, Anne Whitfield, Walter Scharf and his music, and yours truly Bill Forman.
MUSIC:
OUT
FORMAN:
Most married men like to have a night out with the boys. Sometimes, it can be a lot of fun. But other times, it can be, uh... But more about that later. First, a word from RCA Victor.
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MUSIC:
RCA FANFARE, THEN THEME UP, THEN UNDER
FORMAN:
And now, the stars of the RCA Program, Alice Faye and Phil Harris!
MUSIC:
SEGUE INTO "ROSE ROOM" UP, THEN OUT
FORMAN:
Last night, Elliott Lewis threw his annual poker game and Lick-Your-Own-Wounds Party. It was held in his apartment, and Phil was the guest of honour. It was quite a night. And now, as we look in on the Harris home, it is noon the next day. Phil is still in bed, and Elliott has come over to see how he's feeling.
ELLIOTT:
(BOUNDLESS ENERGY) Good morning, Curly! Come on, get up! I got a new bebop story for ya! (LAUGHS LOUDLY) Hey, this is REAL CRAZY, man! Seems these two cats were standin' on the street corner--
HARRIS:
(GROANING IN PAIN) Oh, not now, Elliott. No. No. Please.
ELLIOTT:
What?
HARRIS:
Please, Elliott. Not now. My head feels like a Spike Jones rehearsal hall.
ELLIOTT:
Sounds like you enjoyed yourself last night. Did ya have a good time?
HARRIS:
I wouldn't know. Oh, Elliott, what happened?
ELLIOTT:
Nothing happened. Ya came over to my house for a poker game.
HARRIS:
Oh, yeah. That. There was some kind of a disaster, wasn't there?
ELLIOTT:
No. Don't you remember? You walked into the apartment, sat down at the table, said hello to the boys...
HARRIS:
Yeah, I remember that part.
ELLIOTT:
Then, you bought some chips, and Sammy started to deal...
HARRIS:
I remember that.
ELLIOTT:
Then, I made ya a drink. Ya started to drink it--
HARRIS:
THAT'S IT! That's when the Super Chief came through your living room, and smacked me right in the kisser. (GROANS) Oh, Elliott. I don't remember a thing after that.
ELLIOTT:
I can't understand it, Curly. All ya had was one little sip, and you can't recall a thing.
HARRIS:
With the liquor YOU serve, that's possible! What were you servin'? Bonded Amnesia?
ELLIOTT:
Don't be snide. I served very good bourbon. Nobody ever got hurt drinking Old Vulture.
HARRIS:
That's a splendid name for it. Old Vulture. One drink, and you start circling.
ELLIOTT:
Aw, Curly, you must be gettin' old. Ya had one sip, and you can't remember what happened?
HARRIS:
Can YOU remember what happened?
ELLIOTT:
No. But I had TWO sips. Why don't ya get up and get dressed--
SFX:
BANGING ON DOOR
FAYE:
(SLIGHTLY OFF-MIKE) Elliott?
ELLIOTT:
Huh?
FAYE:
(DITTO) Elliott, open the door. I have a lunch tray for Phil.
HARRIS:
Oh-oh. That's Alice. Look, Elliott, don't say nothin' about the poker game last night. I didn't tell her about it.
ELLIOTT:
What DID you tell her?
HARRIS:
I didn't tell her anything yet, but if she asks me, I'm gonna say I went someplace else instead. And if she asks you, tell her the same thing.
ELLIOTT:
Yeah, okay. (UP) Coming, Alice!
SFX:
GOES TO DOOR ... OPENS IT
ELLIOTT:
There ya are, Alice.
FAYE:
(CHEERFUL) Good morning, Phil! 'Bout time you woke up. I brought you some lunch.
HARRIS:
(QUIETLY) What? No thanks, honey. It... I- I'm not hungry. I- I don't feel so good.
FAYE:
Oh, you felt all right when you left the house with Elliott last night. Elliott, where did you two go?
ELLIOTT:
We went someplace else instead.
FAYE:
Instead of where?
ELLIOTT:
Instead of the poker game we didn't go to.
FAYE:
Phil Harris, was there a poker game last night?
HARRIS:
(PAUSE, COCKY) I imagine there was one someplace. But we didn't go there, because instead, we went someplace else.
ELLIOTT:
Instead.
HARRIS:
I already said that. I slipped it in the middle.
ELLIOTT:
You're confusing me.
FAYE:
Phil... Phil, did you have anything to drink, last night?
HARRIS:
Who, me??? Perish the thought!
FAYE:
Then why don't you feel good?
HARRIS:
Well, I... I think I have a bad chest cold.
FAYE:
Well, I haven't heard you coughing.
HARRIS:
Well, you haven't been paying attention. I've been coughing like mad, all morning. Every five minutes, I have a spasm, and-- OOPS! Here it comes again! (A COUPLE OF DEMURE LITTLE COUGHS)
FAYE:
Oh, Phil. Phil, that- that cough sounds terrible.
HARRIS:
I'd like to see YOU do better without a rehearsal. (REALIZING) Oh, oh, oh! Oh, you mean that I- I got a bad cold! Yes, I have, dear. My poor chest is just killin' me. (A FEW MORE DEMURE LITTLE COUGHS)
FAYE:
I'll get you something for your chest, Phil. And you'll be all right in no time.
SFX:
WALKS TO DOOR ... GOES OUT ... CLOSES DOOR
HARRIS:
(PAUSE) Will you tell me something, Elliott?
ELLIOTT:
Yeah.
HARRIS:
I don't remember much about last night. Now, just what did we do?
ELLIOTT:
Well... As I remember, we were playing poker, and then, you started to sing.
HARRIS:
(DELIGHTED) I did? Now, wasn't that nice o' me? Hey, what'd I sing?
ELLIOTT:
A tune, uh, that went something like this. Uh, (SINGS BADLY) "A piece o' puddin' hot! Piece o' puddin' hot! Piece o' puddin' hot--"
HARRIS:
Hold it! Hold it! Hold it! Willya hold it a minute?
ELLIOTT:
(STOPS SINGING)
HARRIS:
You're ruinin' one o' my latest RCA Victor records. (MIMICS HIM) "Piece o' puddin' hot!" (DOWN) Look. You better let ME do it.
ELLIOTT:
All right.
PHIL'S SONG:
"PIECE O' PUDDIN"
ELLIOTT:
Hey, Curly, that's just the way you sang that song, last night.
HARRIS:
(DELIGHTED) I did? Then what happened?
ELLIOTT:
My landlady threw us outta the apartment.
HARRIS:
Don't like Beethoven, huh? Hey, Elliott, then what did we do?
ELLIOTT:
Well, it... It's all kinda hazy, but I think we went downtown to a tattoo parlour.
HARRIS:
What was that for?
ELLIOTT:
I dunno. I had some wild idea about havin' my girlfriend, Emma's, name tattooed on my chest.
HARRIS:
(CHUCKLES) You didn't do it, did ya?
ELLIOTT:
(CHUCKLES) Of course not. I wouldn't-- (THINKS) I didn't-- (SERIOUS) Or did I? (PAUSE) Curly, I'm gonna open my shirt. Tell me quick. Is Emma there?
HARRIS:
Lemme see... (LOOKS) Nah!
ELLIOTT:
You're sure there's nothin' on my chest?
HARRIS:
Well, nothing except a little patch o' green hair.
ELLIOTT:
I gotta stop wearin' those chlorophyll undershirts. Well, thank goodness it ain't there, huh? Funny, though. I could'a sworn I saw that artist tattoo Emma's name on somebody's chest.
HARRIS:
Well, it's possible. Who else was with ya?
ELLIOTT:
Just you.
HARRIS:
Well, if I was the only one with y-- (PAUSE, SERIOUSLY) Elliott?
ELLIOTT:
Sir?
HARRIS:
I'm gonna open my pyjama top, and I'm gonna look down slowly. And if I see any embroidery work, on my lily-white body, POW!!!
ELLIOTT:
Don't bother lookin', Curly. It's there.
HARRIS:
Huh? What's there?
ELLIOTT:
Emma. In Old English scroll.
HARRIS:
Oh, no... Your girlfriend's name is on MY chest??? Now, how'm I gonna explain that to Alice?
ELLIOTT:
Never mind Alice; how'm I gonna explain it to Emma?
HARRIS:
How did her name get on MY chest?
ELLIOTT:
Lemme think a minute.
HARRIS:
Well, think.
ELLIOTT:
It seems to me, that when we went into the tattoo parlour, I insisted on seeing a sample of his writing before I'd let him touch me.
HARRIS:
So?
ELLIOTT:
So, he musta used you for a scratch-pad.
HARRIS:
(QUIETLY) One o' these days, I'm gonna kill you.
ELLIOTT:
Don't blame me. It was an accident.
HARRIS:
Oh, Elliott, what are you talkin' about, an accident? Now, can't you see what trouble I'm in? I gotta think o' some way to get this tattoo offa my chest before Alice sees it.
ELLIOTT:
Well, you better think o' something fast. I hear her comin'.
HARRIS:
Oh, no... Now, what am I gonna do?
ELLIOTT:
Quick, put your pyjama top on, get back in bed, and cover up, so she won't see it.
HARRIS:
Okay.
ELLIOTT:
Right.
HARRIS:
Tattooed at my age. I wouldn't mind if it was a nice battleship, you know. Look, Elliott, eventually, Alice is gonna see this tattoo. Now, how am I gonna explain Emma to her?
ELLIOTT:
Well, there must be some wa-- (IDEA) Wait. Wait a minute. (CHUCKLES) I been stupid. There's a simple solution. Tell your wife you had the tattoo put on for her.
HARRIS:
But her name is Alice.
ELLIOTT:
Get her to change it to Emma.
HARRIS:
I got news for you.
ELLIOTT:
Mm?
HARRIS:
You're still stupid.
ELLIOTT:
I think it's worth a try, and I--
SFX:
DOOR OPENS
FAYE:
Well, Phil? Phil, how do you feel now?
ELLIOTT:
He's much better, Emma.
FAYE:
Emma??? My name is Alice.
ELLIOTT:
I been meanin' to talk to ya about that. Ya know, you're much too glamourous to have a plain name like Alice. A girl of your beauty should have a name that has allure... mystery... fire.
FAYE:
True. I could change it to... Lana.
ELLIOTT:
Or Emma.
FAYE:
Or Rita.
ELLIOTT:
Or Emma.
FAYE:
Or Ava!
ELLIOTT:
Or-- Yeah! I like that one. Of course, Ava isn't the name I had on my mind.
HARRIS:
(SOTTO) It ain't the one I got on my chest either.
FAYE:
What was that, Phil?
HARRIS:
Nothin', honey, nothin'. It was-- I- I'm a little delirious, honey. That's-- Well, my cold is much worse.
FAYE:
Well, I'll fix that in a minute. I'll put this hot mustard plaster on your chest.
HARRIS:
My chest?! No, oh no, honey, that ain't gonna do any good. Ya see, well, uh, you can't-- Honey, the cold just slipped down to my stomach.
FAYE:
All right, Phil. Phil, I don't think there's anything wrong with your chest. I think it's your HEAD.
HARRIS:
That's no way to talk to a sick man.
FAYE:
Now, look. If you're sick, let me put this mustard plaster on your chest.
HARRIS:
Honey, I don't need medicine. If you wanna make me feel better, uh, uh... (IDEA) Oh! Go downstairs, and put some records on the Victrola. You know that music always soothes me.
FAYE:
(DELIGHTED) Well, if it's music you want, I'll stay here and sing for you.
HARRIS:
But, but, can't you do it from downstairs? Or, or up on the roof? Or... Oh, oh! Oh, better yet, go over to your mother's house, and phone it in.
FAYE:
I'm gonna sing right here.
FAYE'S SONG:
"NO TWO PEOPLE"
FAYE:
Well, honey, how do you feel now?
HARRIS:
(GROANS) Oh, honey, I'm sicker than ever. Look, you'd better leave the room before you get what I got.
FAYE:
Well, what have you got?
HARRIS:
I can't say, but it wouldn't look good on YOU. Now, please go, will ya, honey?
FAYE:
(HURT) Very well. If you're trying to get rid of me, I'll go.
SFX:
WALKS TO DOOR ... OPENS IT ... WALKS OUT ... CLOSES IT ... WALKS DOWNSTAIRS, UNDER
FAYE:
(SOTTO) I wonder what's wrong with him. He's acting awfully peculiar. I'd better call the doctor, and have him come over and examine him. Gee, I hope it's nothing serious.
TETLEY:
(CALLING) Anybody home? I brung the groceries. (SHEEPISH) Oh, hello, Miss Faye. Say, you look upset. What'sa matter?
FAYE:
Oh, I'm having trouble with Mr. Harris.
TETLEY:
Oh? And what's wrong with the jerky Cherokee today?
FAYE:
Julius, he's sick in bed.
TETLEY:
He is? (LAUGHS) Tell me, does he have much pain?
FAYE:
No. No, he doesn't have any pain at all.
TETLEY:
Can't we fly some in? Well, if Mr. Harris is sick, I guess I oughtta go in and see him. Where is he?
FAYE:
Oh, he's in the bedroom with Mr. Lewis. And, uh, you go on in, because I'm gonna go call the doctor.
TETLEY:
See if you can get one who just lost his licence.
SFX:
WALKS UPSTAIRS, UNDER
TETLEY:
(SOTTO) I'll bet that big baboon ain't sick. He must be fakin'. He and Mr. Lewis are probably up to somethin'. I think I'll sneak up to the door, and listen.
SFX:
OUT
ELLIOTT:
(FADING IN) Curly, it's not gonna do ya any good to lie here and pretend you're sick.
TETLEY:
(SOTTO) Aha! Me suspicions have been confoimed.
HARRIS:
Oh, maybe you're right, Elliott. Maybe we oughtta try and sneak out. Because if Alice ever comes in here and sees Emma, I'm dead.
TETLEY:
(SOTTO) Emma?! He's got a dame in there!
ELLIOTT:
Curly, sneakin' out won't do any good. Sooner or later, Alice'll find out. What you gotta do is get rid of Emma.
HARRIS:
I can't get rid of her. She's part of me.
TETLEY:
(SOTTO) Ooh, that nasty old man!
ELLIOTT:
There must be some way o' gettin' rid of her!
HARRIS:
How can I? I've got her under my skin!
TETLEY:
(SOTTO) With his loose skin, that's possible.
HARRIS:
Elliott, look. There must be something that I can do. I can't stand havin' Emma on my chest!
TETLEY:
(SOTTO) She's standin' on his chest??? This, I gotta see!
SFX:
OPENS DOOR
TETLEY:
Mr. Harris, why is that woman standin' on- on...? All right, fellas, where's Emma? I know there's a woman in here!
HARRIS:
There ain't no woman in here!
TETLEY:
Who're ya kiddin'? I hoid ya say ya got Emma on yer- yer...? (SEES TATTOO) Well! Ain't that a dainty doily on yer chest!
HARRIS:
That's a tattoo.
TETLEY:
I see. A married man, whose wife's name is Alice, has Emma tattooed on his chest. Ooh, wait til Miss Faye hears about THIS! You might have a tough time--
HARRIS:
Now, wait a minute, kid, wait a minute. Now, the whole thing was an accident, and I don't want my wife to know. Look, uh, Julius... Would, uh, twenty dollars close your mouth?
TETLEY:
I doubt it. I got a pretty big mouth. TWO twenties might plug the hole.
HARRIS:
All right, all right. Here's forty bucks. And you're not to say anything about Emma. Understand?
TETLEY:
Yeah. I promise not to say anything to your wife about Emma, in return for which, you are to give me forty dollars.
HARRIS:
Right.
TETLEY:
Every week.
HARRIS:
Julius...
TETLEY:
For twenty years.
HARRIS:
Look, kid...
TETLEY:
With options for renewal.
HARRIS:
Why, you little blackmailer, I'm gonna--
ELLIOTT:
Curly... Curly. He's got ya.
HARRIS:
All right, all right. So, he's got me. Now, look, Julius. I'm gonna give you forty bucks a week. Now, you get outta here. Beat it.
TETLEY:
I'm goin'. By the way, Mr. Harris, you better cover up Emma, so the doctor don't see her.
HARRIS:
(BEAT) What doctor?
TETLEY:
The one your wife called. He's on his way over to examine ya.
HARRIS:
Huh???
TETLEY:
Well, goodbye, Mr. Harris and Mr. Lewis. (LOVINGLY) And so long, Emma, you little annuity, you!
SFX:
LEAVES ... CLOSES DOOR
HARRIS:
D'you hear that, Elliott? A doctor. A doctor. Now, I'm REALLY dead. The first thing the doctor's gonna do is examine my chest, and then Alice will see Emma. (BEAT. TO ELLIOTT) All right, Brain. What do I do now?
ELLIOTT:
I got an idea. Alice thought you were acting a little peculiar before.
HARRIS:
So, so?
ELLIOTT:
So, so, if you can put on an act, and make the doctor think you're a little barmy, he'll examine your head, not your chest.
HARRIS:
(CHUCKLES) Yeah! Yeah. That WOULD work.
ELLIOTT:
There's only one danger.
HARRIS:
What?
ELLIOTT:
He might find somethin' wrong with your head.
HARRIS:
That's a chance I'll have to take. Don't worry. I'll put on an act that'll REALLY fool that doctor.
ELLIOTT:
Yeah, but you gotta be subtle. Just act a LITTLE irrational.
HARRIS:
Yeah, I'll--
ELLIOTT:
When ya speak, don't make TOO much sense, but don't overdo--
SFX:
KNOCKING ON DOOR
FAYE:
(SLIGHTLY OFF-MIKE) Phil? Phil, the doctor is here.
HARRIS:
(FEY) Oh, goody! Butter him, and slide him under the door!
SFX:
DOOR OPENS
FAYE:
(FADING IN) Oh, Phil, I was worried about you, so I called the doctor. (TO DOCTOR) Uh, Dr. Conrad, this is my husband, Mr. Harris.
HARRIS:
(FEY) How do you do, Mr. Harris? Now, what seems to be troubling you? That'll be ten dollars, please.
DOCTOR:
Why, there's nothing troubling me.
HARRIS:
(CHUCKLES) That's what they ALL say! Now, you just siddown, and take your shoes off. The blacksmith'll be back in a minute.
FAYE:
Phil, stop it. This is the doctor.
HARRIS:
Ooh! Isn't that splendid! I LOVE doctors!
DOCTOR:
Well! (SARCASTIC) That makes me glad all over. Now, look, will you please--
HARRIS:
Did you know that more doctors smoke Camels than any other animal?
FAYE:
Phil, what's the matter with you? You're acting like a crazy two-year-old!
HARRIS:
You're just sayin' that to keep me out of the big race today. And I'm the only one who can beat Citation! Are my oats ready?
DOCTOR:
You know, Harris, I think I'll have to put you under observation.
HARRIS:
I knew it, I knew it! You're just tryin' to get rid o' me! I knew, as soon as you walked in. With your long blonde curls, you were plannin' to steal my bald-headed wife!
ELLIOTT:
(SOTTO) Curly, it's the other way around.
HARRIS:
(SOTTO) I know, but it sounds crazier, MY way. (UP) Doctor, why do you wanna run away with MY wife, when movies are better than ever?
DOCTOR:
Look, Harris...
HARRIS:
Quiet, dear! They're playing our song.
DOCTOR:
Well! I think I've heard enough. I'm leaving, Mrs. Harris. Your husband doesn't need a chest specialist.
FAYE:
Should I call a psychiatrist?
DOCTOR:
Why waste the money? Just get a couple of squirrels, and have them carry him off. Goodbye!
SFX:
WALKS OUT ... SLAMS DOOR
HARRIS:
There he goes. (TEARFUL) And he didn't even kiss me goodbye. (CHEERFUL) Oh, well. Anyone for channel-swimming?
ELLIOTT:
Curly, he's gone. You can stop.
HARRIS:
I don't wanna stop. I like that kinda talk. This may be the beginning of a new character for me. Now, if you'll hand me my roller skates, I'll be off to the rink.
FAYE:
All right, Phil, all right. What's going on? Why didn't you want the doctor to look at your chest?
HARRIS:
Well, uh... uh... Well, I don't want anybody to see it, honey. It looks awful. It's all discoloured.
FAYE:
Well, I'm gonna see it anyway. I'm gonna take that pyjama top off--
HARRIS:
No, no, please! Don't touch me! My chest, well it has a horrible rash, and if you should see it, you'll--
FAYE:
(WILD WOMAN) HOLD STILL!!!
SFX:
RIPPING CLOTH
HARRIS:
Ooh! Ooh!
FAYE:
Now. Now, I'll be able to see what-- (SEES TATTOO) Phil Harris! What is that name tattooed on your chest??? Who is Emma???
ELLIOTT:
(BEAT. QUIETLY) Emma's my girlfriend.
FAYE:
What's her name doing on Phil's chest???
ELLIOTT:
Well, my chest was too small to put it on, so Curly allowed me to use his instead.
HARRIS:
That's right, honey. That's right. (NOBLY) And greater love hath no man, than to lend his bosom to a narrow-chested friend.
MUSIC:
BIG FINISH, THEN OUT
FORMAN:
Alice and Phil will be back in just a moment.
Unless you're an expert, you wouldn't try to repair your own car. You'd drive it into a garage, and have a mechanic do it. Radio and television receivers are even more complex than automobiles. And, if they need to be serviced, the job should always be done by expert technicians. Your local radio-television serviceman is trained in the adjustment and repair of radios and television sets. He has expensive test equipment, to make sure your receiver is restored to its original performance. So, always call on your serviceman, if your radio or television set needs adjustment. It will cost you less in the long run. And, if the picture tube, or any one of the receiving tubes, needs to be replaced, your serviceman will recommend RCA tubes. They cost no more, and they're your best insurance against failure in your radio or television set. Always insist on RCA tubes.
MUSIC:
RCA VICTOR FANFARE, THEN "ROSE ROOM", THEN OUT
HARRIS:
Folks, this is Phil again. Next week, local chapters of the United States Junior Chamber of Commerce in hundreds of cities and towns from coast to coast, will begin one of their most important Christmas activities: the Jaycee Christmas Shopping Tour for Orphans and Underprivileged Children. There are thousands of these youngsters who have never known the pleasure of giving. And that's just what the Jaycee Christmas Shopping Tour offers them. The chance to enjoy this new experience. To find out how this heartwarming program works in your town, and how you can participate, listen to your local radio and TV personalities, this coming week. They'll tell you all about it. And you can help a lotta swell kids have a brighter Christmas. And it'll make you feel great, yourself. So, watch for the Jaycee Christmas Shopping Tour, in your community, next week. Thanks, everybody. And goodnight!
FAYE:
Goodnight, everybody!
MUSIC:
CLOSING THEME UP, THEN UNDER
FORMAN:
Included in this program, transcribed, was Joseph Kearns. The part of Julius was played by Walter Tetley.
MUSIC:
OUT
FORMAN:
Last year, RCA Victor made Christmas especially beautiful for millions of Americans, with an album of Yuletide songs, sung by the Robert Shaw Chorale. And now, RCA Victor brings you Volume Two: "Robert Shaw's Christmas Hymns and Carols". In this brand new album, available in all three speeds, the Robert Shaw Chorale sings twenty-six beautiful, but seldom-heard, Christmas selections. Buy either or both of these wonderful RCA Victor Christmas albums, at your record dealer's, tomorrow.
MUSIC:
CLOSING THEME, UP, THEN OUT
ANNCR:
Tonight, hear "Theatre Guild on the Air", over NBC.
NBC CHIMES