THEME

ANNOUNCER:

OPENING AND COMMERCIAL CREDITS

INTRODUCTION:

- Well sir, Mr. and Mrs. Victor Gook are in the living-room as we join them at the small house half-way up in the next block now. Our friends are scrutinizing with considerable interest an extremely odd appearing piece of furniture standing beside the davenport. And Sade is saying.........

SADE:

(SHARPLY) A foot-stool?

VIC:

Yeah.

SADE:

You're fooling, ain't ya?

VIC:

Why should I be fooling?

SADE:

But...(GIGGLES)...it can't be the kind of a foot-stool a person generally means when they refer to a foot-stool. Is "foot stool" also the name for something else?

VIC:

(COLDLY) It is a foot-stool, a foot-stool.

SADE:

(BRIEFLY INQUIRING) Are you mad?

VIC:

Yes. And disgusted.

SADE:

You never carried this monstrous big contraption all the way from down town?

VIC:

Art Williamson hauled it in his car. Didn't you see us out in front?

SADE:

No. If I had I wouldn't of asked my question.

VIC:

(SOMEWHAT BITTERLY) Well, -- where'll we hide the half-wit numb-skull foot-stool?

SADE:

(SHARPLY) "Hide" it?

VIC:

(COLDLY) I must chew my words like cabbage. I hafta repeat everything.

SADE:

Oh, ish, Vic. I'm getting tired and cross this afternoon myself. Let's not bicker and.....

RUSSELL:

(IN KITCHEN) Hi, mom. [In the living-room, are they?]

SADE:

...argue and trash.

VIC:

(RATHER DULLY) Where'll we hide the boss's Christmas present?

RUSSELL:

(APPROACHING) It's starting to snow out-doors.

SADE:

(RAISES VOICE, SAYING CASUALLY) Hi, Willie. (TO VIC) Why do we hafta hide it?

VIC:

(DULLY) I don't know or care. I'm spiritless and uncaring.

RUSSELL:

(COMING UP) Well, gov, you on deck, too, are they?

VIC:

(DULLY) Hello, Russell.

RUSSELL:

It's starting to snow out-doors.

VIC:

(DULLY) That is remarkable. It'd be still more remarkable, though, if it was starting to snow indoors, wouldn't it? Don't bother answering.

RUSSELL:

What's this thing?

SADE:

Foot-stool.

RUSSELL:

Un-huh, - I see it is. Combination foot-stool and fly-swatter.

SADE:

(GIGGLES) No, I'm not joking. It's really a foot-stool. Or at least gov claims it is, and he don't act much like he's having fun teasing people.

RUSSELL:

How would an individual get their feet up on it?

SADE:

How would they, Vic?

VIC:

(DULLY) Your ankles fit into these slots there on top.

SADE:

(DISTASTE) Oh, for mercy sakes.

VIC:

I am not happy about it either. The sight of those slots you put your ankles in are distasteful to me too.

RUSSELL:

Who owns the...(CHUCKLES)...foot-stool?

SADE:

It's the Christmas present the people down at the Plant are giving to Mister Ruebush.

RUSSELL:

Yeah?

SADE:

Gov was the fella, ya know, selected to pick out and purchase the Christmas present.

RUSSELL:

(CHUCKLES) How in heck, gov, did you happen to pick out and purchase this what-cha-ma-funny?

VIC:

Tell him, Sade, if you like.

SADE:

I don't know. You never explained it to me.

VIC:

(DULLY) Who did I explain it to?

SADE:

Prob'ly Art Williamson while he was hauling you and the foot-stool home here.

VIC:

(DULLY) Yes, that's prob'ly it. I prob'ly told it to Art while we were riding in the car. I know I told somebody. Yes, it was prob'ly Art I told. You say it isn't you so it must have been Art. Art is no doubt the fella. Good old Art, - he drove me home. He drove me home and I told him about the foot-stool. I told him about the foot-stool while we were coming home in the car. Art is the man and no mistake.

SADE:

(GIGGLES, BUT SAYS RATHER SHARPLY...) Oh, ish, Vic, you talk like you're out of your head.

VIC:

(GENTLY) Do I?

SADE:

Yes.

VIC:

I am in a state of low nervous tone. I am in a state of foggy perceptions. I am in a state called fuzziness.

RUSSELL:

You are in a state called Illinois.

VIC:

(GENTLY) That's right, Russell, I am in a state called Illinois.

RUSSELL:

Pretty punk joke.

VIC:

(GENTLY) A very punk joke. I agree with all my heart. A very punk joke.

RUSSELL:

[Oyster Krecker pulled off a terrible punk joke. "Ever hear the story about the dirty shirt?" he says to Blue-tooth Johnson. "No," says Blue-tooth and then Oyster says.....

VIC AND RUSSELL:

"That's one on you."

RUSSELL:

Yeah, one of the oldest, punkest jokes on record.

VIC:

(DULLY) "We moored our boat and ate our lunch of bacon, bread and peaches. Irene called the police and Harry tore his breeches. 'I am so sick, I am so sick,' poor Wallis cried, and mother got the tonic. The spotted tiger roared at Bill and........."

SADE:

Oh, cut out the crazy talk. You'll begin to worry me pretty quick.] (CHANGING THE SUBJECT) Do we hafta keep this great big business here in the house till Christmas?

VIC:

(DULLY) Yes.

SADE:

(SHARPLY) Why?

VIC:

Hide it. People always hide Christmas presents.

SADE:

(SHARPLY) Hey now, listen, we got no space for any monstrous big unwieldy............

VIC:

(DULLY) I am so wretched and forlorn over this affair, Doctor Sleetch, I just can't debate with you.

SADE:

(SHARPLY) Somebody'll sure hafta debate with me.

VIC:

(DULLY) Yes, indeed.

RUSSELL:

Hey, how could anybody get their feet 'way up there on that foot-stool?

VIC:

Your ankles fit into the slots.

RUSSELL:

No, but I mean how could you even get your ankles up there? If a person sat in an ordinary chair they'd hafta have legs twice as long as ordinary legs to reach 'way up......

VIC:

(DULLY) I don't know, Whitehouse honey. Ask mama.

RUSSELL:

I suppose if an individual sat on a piano or something they could.........

VIC:

(WITH A FEEBLE EAGERNESS) Yeah, -- on a piano. Let's sit on a piano. Look, you duck up the alley and borrow a piano and bring it back and as soon as it gets dark........

SADE:

(SHARPLY) Vic, stop it. I'm not fooling either.

VIC:

(CHUCKLES HIS NATURAL CHUCKLE) No, but kiddo, the situation is boiling me down to a low gravy. I'm sick and tired of the whole mess. I feel like I wish Christmas and Mister Ruebush and everything else would go jump in the creek.

SADE:

Explain where this doo-funny come from and why you're saddled with it and..........

VIC:

(LITTLE TIRED CHUCKLE) All right.

RUSSELL:

Oyster Krecker loves to describe how his cousin Lombard....

SADE:

(GENTLY) Don't tell about Oyster Krecker and his cousin Lombard, Willie, please.

RUSSELL:

Um.

SADE:

Go ahead, Vic.

VIC:

I was in my office working about two o'clock this afternoon and I got a telephone call from Earl Morrison. He said he was down in Buttleman's Furniture-repair shop there on Center street with Ike Kneesuffer. "Gook," he says, "have you done anything yet about the boss's Christmas present from the factory personnel?" I said, "No." He said, "I think I've happened on the very thing, - dandy elaborate foot-stool. And it's priced at exactly the amount we've got to spend." Well, thunder, I jumped at the chance. See, I've been worrying about this nuisance of a chore they hung on me. I clutched at it like a drowning man clutching at a straw. "For Pete's sake, buy it," I said, "buy it and pay for it and I'll drop past later and pick it up."

SADE:

And this is the dandy elaborate foot-stool?

VIC:

(DEJECTEDLY) This is the dandy elaborate foot-stool.

RUSSELL:

No, but a man would hafta be seven or eight feet high to....

SADE:

(AN IDEA) Earl and Ike are playing a joke on you, Vic.

VIC:

(SADLY) No, apparently not. I stopped in at the furniture repair shop and talked with the old guy in there and he said he'd been paid for the foot-stool and Earl Morrison had the receipt and he had instructions to hand it over on demand to a Mister Gook and.......

SADE:

Well, didn't your eyes pop out of your head when you saw this hideous funny-ma-doodle?

VIC:

(SADLY) Yes.

RUSSELL:

Did you ask the old guy how the foot-stool worked?

VIC:

Yes. He showed me the notches up at the top and explained they were to accommodate your ankles.

RUSSELL:

Didn't you inquire how in heck you'd get your ankles up to the slots?

VIC:

(SADLY) No. I was sick at heart. Sick at heart and weary.

RUSSELL:

[What's this gadget here with the hook on it?

VIC:

To hang a sign on. You get a sign and you hang your sign on that hook.

SADE:

(SHARPLY) What kind of a sign?

VIC:

(BACK TO HIS SLUGGISHNESS AGAIN) A little oblong sign, I guess.

SADE AND RUSSELL:

What's it say on the sign?

VIC:

(DULLY) It makes my head hurt when everybody talks at once. You talk, Sadie. What was the question?

SADE:

What do you say on your sign you hang on that hook?

VIC:

(SHOULDER SHRUG) "Keep Out" - "No Smoking" - "Smile, Darn Ya, Smile" - "If You Can Read This You're Too Darn Close" - "Get Off the Grass" - "In Conference" - "Oh You Kid" - "Where'd you Get them Big Blue Eyes" - "Girlie, How about a Ride on the Merry-Go-Round and A sack of pop..........

SADE:

(RATHER SHARPLY) Oh, ish.

VIC:

(RATHER SHARPLY) I don't know what you'd have on a lame-brain sign you hang on a foot-stool. Your guess is as good as mine.

RUSSELL:

Why didn't you ask the fella in the furniture store?

VIC:

Because I was weary and uncaring and sick at heart.

RUSSEL:

Didn't you even inquire how a person could get their feet up on the foot-stool?

VIC:

No. I was weary and uncaring and sick at heart.]

RUSSELL:

I don't see how anybody could get their feet up on the nit-wit foot-stool.

VIC:

(SLUGGISHLY) They sit on a piano somebody told me.

RUSSELL:

I told you.

VIC:

(GENTLY) Oh, was it you? Thanks.

SADE:

The furniture man give you the thing and you marched out with it, huh?

VIC:

The furniture man give me the thing and I marched out with it weary, uncaring and sick at heart.

RUSSELL:

Looks awful heavy.

VIC:

It is awful heavy. I was walking along the street tired and out of breath from my exertions and Art Williamson honked his horn and pulled up to the curbing and offered to give me a lift home. I accepted gratefully and as we rode along he told me I'd hafta sit on a piano to get my feet up on the foot-stool.

RUSSELL:

(SHARPLY) I told you that.

VIC:

(SLUGGISHLY) Oh sure you did. It was you told me, not Art. Thanks. I hope Mr. Ruebush owns a piano. Otherwise his foot-stool will be a useless pitiful burden rather than the perfect shining thing we loyal, affectionate, generous employees intended to.......

SADE:

(SHARPLY) Why did you bring it home?

VIC:

(SLUGGISHLY) Huh?

SADE:

(SHARPLY) Oh, straighten up and quit acting silly. Why did you bring the foot-stool home?

VIC:

(SADLY) Your question makes my head hurt. Where would you have me take it? Peoria? Sweet Esther Wisconsin, Boo Kentucky, Dismal Seepage, [Ohio, Grovelman South Carolina, Yella Jump North Dakota, East Brain Oregon, Sick River Junction Pennsylvania...]

SADE:

(SHARPLY) Take it to the Plant?

VIC:

(SLUGGISH) Huh?

SADE:

(SHARPLY) The Plant. Why didn't you take it to the Plant?

VIC:

It is the boss's Christmas present. I would of taken a chance on his seeing it. And wouldn't that be disastrous? His heart would most likely break if he saw his present ahead of Christmas.

SADE:

(SHARPLY) Is it gonna be here till Christmas?

VIC:

(GENTLY) Where else?

SADE:

(SHARPLY) You mean it'll be underfoot for everybody to stumble over and trip over and........

VIC:

I am in charge of Mr. Ruebush's Christmas present. It is up to me to be responsible for.........

SADE:

(SHARPLY) No.

VIC:

(RATHER SLUGGISHLY) No?

SADE:

(SHARPLY) I'm not going to have any big old unwieldy cumbersome step-ladder-looking doo-funny around underfoot for everybody to trip and stumble over and.....

VIC:

It'll be hidden.

SADE:

Hidden where?

VIC:

In the house some place.

SADE:

(SHARPLY) Why will it be hidden?

VIC:

Christmas presents are always hidden. It's an unwritten law.

SADE:

Who's it going to be hidden from?

VIC:

Mister Ruebush.

SADE:

He hasn't been in this house but twice in his life.

VIC:

(WEARILY) Well, thunder, I don't know. All I know is I'm weary and uncaring and sick at heart.

SADE:

(SHARPLY) That great big Plant down there with storage space galore and room to accommodate eight elephants and you hafta bring home a.........

VIC:

(SADLY) Please, Sadie. Have mercy on a poor wretch.

SADE:

No, but why are we constantly in situations where....(SHARPLY) What ails you, Russell?

RUSSELL:

(STRAINING) I'm trying to estimate how tall an individual would hafta be to fit his ankles in those slots.

SADE:

(BRIEFLY) Get up off the floor.

RUSSELL:

I'd say an individual would hafta be at least seven feet.

SADE:

(TO VIC) No, there's that enormous great big Plant down there with space enough to hide forty-nine steam-engines and you hafta....

VIC:

(SADLY) Let's not talk about it any more today, Sadie. I am too weak and battered and buffeted by Life. Let's talk about it later on.

SADE:

Um.

RUSSELL:

(BRIEF PAUSE) Oyster Krecker dearly loves to reduce his warm personal friends to twisted hysterical lumps of screaming uncontrollable laughter by describing how.....

VIC:

(GENTLY) Tell me about Oyster Krecker another day, Russell honey.

RUSSELL:

(LITTLE CHUCKLE) O. K.

VIC:

(AFTER A PAUSE, THOUGHTFULLY AND ALMOST TO HIMSELF) There stands the boss's Christmas present. It is a dandy elaborate foot-stool with slots to put your ankles in. In order to use this dandy elaborate foot-stool, one must sit on a piano.

SADE:

(AFTER A PAUSE) What you going to do now?

VIC:

(GENTLY AND SADLY) Lay down.

SADE:

Um.

VIC:

(GENTLY AND SADLY) Yes, I am going to lay down. I wonder if you'd leave me alone, please, - both of you, -- thanks.

END OF SCRIPT