WILCOX:
THE JOHNSON WAX PROGRAM - WITH FIBBER McGEE AND MOLLY!
MUSIC:
THEME ... FADE FOR--
SOUND:
APPLAUSE
WILCOX:
The makers of Johnson's Wax products for home and industry present Fibber McGee and Molly, written by Don Quinn and Phil Leslie with music by the King's Men and Billy Mills Orchestra.
MUSIC:
ORCHESTRA PLAYS "NEW SUN IN THE SKY" BY HOWARD DIETZ AND ARTHUR SCHWARTZ ... FADE FOR--
WILCOX:
All up and down the country today, friends have been dropping in on other friends, exchanging New Year's greetings. It's a proud moment, isn't it, when your guests compliment you on the beauty of your home? Well, you can always count on a compliment like that if you use the Wax Method of housekeeping. Fact is, it's quite amazing how wax -- genuine Johnson's Wax -- touches off the real beauty of the lovely things in your home. Waxed floors shine proudly with a new beauty. The wax polish gives a lovely luster to furniture and woodwork, too, and it brings out the beautiful grain. Picture frames and ornaments and leather articles grow lovelier each time you wax them. You see, Johnson-Waxed things have a satin-smooth surface that doesn't collect dust, is easy to keep clean. And because of its protective qualities, a coating of wax adds to their length of life. Why not have a lovelier home in 1946 with Johnson's Wax?
MUSIC:
UP, "NEW SUN IN THE SKY" ... TO A FINISH
SOUND:
APPLAUSE
WILCOX:
For non-professionals, there are three different approaches to typewriting -- hunt and peck, hope and hit, poke and pray. And here at 79 Wistful Vista, we find the squire combining the worst features of each, as we meet --- FIBBER McGEE AND MOLLY!
SOUND:
APPLAUSE ... FIBBER PECKS AWAY AT TYPEWRITER
FIBBER:
(MUMBLING DURING ABOVE, DISGUSTED, TO HIMSELF) I can see why Remington makes guns as well as typewriters. ... If you don't type any better than I do, you can shoot yourself.
SOUND:
FIBBER PULLS PAPER FROM TYPEWRITER
FIBBER:
Ah, let's see what I got. (READS) "One day in Africa during a kangaroo-trapping expedition--"
MOLLY:
(APPROACHES) McGee have you got time to help me--? Oh, still at the typewriter, huh?
FIBBER:
Yeah, and you know what? I now got two pinkies on each hand. My forefingers are worn down to the second knuckle. ...
MOLLY:
(CHUCKLES) What are you doing? Writing yourself an anonymous letter?
FIBBER:
Nope, I'm writing out my entry into a contest.
MOLLY:
Oh, heavenly days. Another one? What is it this time?
FIBBER:
I'm writin' a story.
MOLLY:
A story?
FIBBER:
Yep.
MOLLY:
Long or short?
FIBBER:
Tall. ...
MOLLY:
Tall, huh?
FIBBER:
Yep. Tall story contest at the Elks Club. Hundred bucks, first prize. Entries got to be in by five o'clock tonight.
MOLLY:
Well, good for you, dearie.
FIBBER: Yep.
MOLLY:
You might as well cash in on that talent as give it away to your friends for free.
FIBBER:
Yep. ...
MOLLY:
Your only rival for tall stories is the Empire State Building.
FIBBER:
That's what all the guys at the Elks Club say, too, and they've all got big bets on me to win.
MOLLY:
Well, why not? You're a cinch.
FIBBER:
Yep.
MOLLY:
Mind if I read what you've written?
FIBBER:
No, no, go ahead.
MOLLY:
Okay. (READS, WITH DIFFICULTY) "Tale Steery -- by Fibber -- one-half -- dollar sign -- two smudges ... MaGree." ...
FIBBER:
Better let me read it. My typing ain't very clean.
MOLLY:
You're not kidding, sweetheart. This looks like you've gone at the typewriter with four wooden mallets, like a xylophone.
FIBBER:
It says, "Tall Story by Fibber McGee."
MOLLY:
That's fine, dearie. Very good.
FIBBER:
Well, wait'll you hear it. There's more.
MOLLY:
Oh. Pardon me.
FIBBER:
(READS) "One day in Africa during a kangaroo-trapping expedition--"
MOLLY:
Well, aside from the fact there are no kangaroos in Africa, I think it's fine. Read the rest of it.
FIBBER:
That's all I got. ... I can't think of a good yarn.
MOLLY:
Oh, nonsense. You've got a million of them, dearie.
FIBBER:
Huh?
MOLLY:
How about the one you told the milkman this very morning?
FIBBER:
What?
MOLLY:
About how you used to drive a milk wagon and your horse was so smart he not only knew all the customers, but used to read the newspapers to see if anybody new had moved into the neighborhood? ...
FIBBER:
Aw, they don't want true stories. ...
MOLLY:
Ah, I see.
FIBBER:
Besides there's something about writing 'em down on paper that defeats me. They don't look reasonable. I think I better start all over.
SOUND:
PAPER IN TYPEWRITER ... TYPING BRIEFLY BEHIND--
FIBBER:
Now, "One day -- when I was -- deep-sea fishing at Acapulco--" Hey, how do you spell Acapulco?
MOLLY:
Where is it?
FIBBER:
I don't know.
MOLLY:
Well, make it Havana.
FIBBER:
Oh.
MOLLY:
You can copy that off your cigar band.
FIBBER:
Good idea. ... "Deep-sea fishing at Havana, Florida."
MOLLY:
Why, Havana's in Cuba.
FIBBER:
Since when?
MOLLY:
Well, that I couldn't say, dearie. I only know that--
SOUND:
DOOR OPENS
ALICE:
Hello, Mrs. McGee. Oh! Am I interrupting your work, Mr. McGee?
FIBBER:
Oh, not at all, Alice. I'm never bothered by minor disturbances.
ALICE:
Well, I'm not a minor disturbance, Mr. McGee.
FIBBER:
Hm?
ALICE:
I was twenty-one last October.
FIBBER:
Oh. ...
MOLLY:
Well, uh-- He's writing a tall story for the Elks Club contest, Alice.
ALICE:
Oh, creepers, isn't that wonderful? Maybe he could even write a novel or a play or something, sometime.
FIBBER:
What do you mean, I could write a play or a novel or something, sometime? I got one almost finished right now. I'm calling it "Life with My Father."
MOLLY:
There is a play by that name, McGee; very successful, too.
FIBBER:
What? "Life with My Father"?
ALICE:
(CHUCKLES) No, it's just called "Life with Father."
FIBBER:
Well, how do you like that? You think up an idea, somebody takes it, changes one word and you got no legal protection whatsoever! ...
ALICE:
I think playwriting is horribly interesting.
FIBBER:
Mm hm.
ALICE:
I go out once in awhile with a fellow that [thinks] he's a playwright. He's kind of a Noel Coward.
FIBBER:
He is, eh?
ALICE:
Yes. He'd like to write like Noel, but he's afraid. ...
FIBBER:
I'll never forget one time in New York, the Theatre Guild come to me and asked me to write a show for 'em.
MOLLY:
I suppose Elmer Rice was busy at the time, being thrown at a wedding party. ...
FIBBER:
I was a kind of a Broadway playboy in them days, which is why they wanted me to write a Broadway play, I suppose.
ALICE:
Well, natch!
FIBBER:
They offered me a hundred thousand dollars and a tryout in Washington, D. C.
MOLLY:
Would that be called "capital gain," dearie?
FIBBER:
It would of, if they'd ever seen it. ... I found out just in time they wanted the play to be called "Alabama," so they could pay me off in Confederate money. ... So I nixes the deal, see? And they got a kid named Hammerstein to do one called "Oklahoma." I understand it's gonna make expenses, too. ...
MOLLY:
Make expenses. They sell tickets for it in jewelry stores.
ALICE:
Well, I'll let you get to work, Mr. McGee. I've got to get downtown anyway. I have a luncheon date with Geraldine.
FIBBER:
Who's Geraldine?
ALICE:
Oh, Geraldine is the mounted policeman who directs traffic at Fourteenth and Oak Street on the big brown horse's sister.
FIBBER:
Oh, I see.
ALICE:
Well, good luck with it, Mr. McGee.
SOUND:
DOOR CLOSES ... APPLAUSE
MUSIC:
ORCHESTRA STARTS TO PLAY A SWINGING VERSION OF "TWO GUITARS"
WILCOX:
Billy Mills and the Orchestra and "Two Guitars."
MUSIC:
ORCHESTRA PLAY "TWO GUITARS"
SOUND:
APPLAUSE ... THEN FIBBER RESUMES TYPING
FIBBER:
(MUMBLES) Ah, dad rat the dad-ratted--
SOUND:
PAPER PULLED FROM TYPEWRITER AND CRUMPLED UP
MOLLY:
Well, how are you coming along with your tall story, McGee?
FIBBER:
Aw, terrible. I can't think of anything to write. I had a wonderful start on this one, too, but it petered out.
MOLLY:
What was it?
FIBBER:
It was about the time I flew a balloon over Mt. Vesuvius while it was erupting.
MOLLY:
Oh, well, that sounds very interesting. Why didn't you go on with it?
FIBBER:
I couldn't. The balloon caught fire in the third line and I got killed. ... If I only had more imagination, I could win this thing hands down.
SOUND:
DOORBELL RINGS
MOLLY:
Come in.
SOUND:
DOOR OPENS, THEN CLOSES BEHIND--
MOLLY:
Oh, hello there, Mrs. Carstairs. Do come in.
CARSTAIRS:
How do you do, my dear?
SOUND:
FIBBER RESUMES TYPING BRIEFLY
CARSTAIRS:
Oh. Working on the typewriter, Mr. McGee?
FIBBER:
Who, me? Oh no, no, Carsty. I'm teaching a sea lion to play the 1812 Overture on a police whistle. ... And if you'll pardon my mentioning it, your skirt is split down the middle.
CARSTAIRS:
This, Mr. McGee, is a divided skirt.
FIBBER:
That's what I said. ...
CARSTAIRS:
I have just come from a horseback ride in the park.
MOLLY:
Oh, I've seen you riding, Millicent, and I must say you have a wonderful seat on a horse. (QUICKLY, TO FIBBER, A PREEMPTIVE WARNING) Mc_Gee_! ...
FIBBER:
You quite an equestrenarian, Carsty?
CARSTAIRS:
Well, I rather fancy that I am, Mr. McGee. I've taken several blue ribbons at horse shows.
FIBBER:
Judges nearsighted or were you whinnying at the time? ...
MOLLY:
Now, McGee, don't be so rude.
CARSTAIRS:
(CHUCKLES) Oh, I know he's just joking, my dear. As a matter of fact, Mr. McGee, when Roy Rogers had his last rodeo at Madison Square Garden, he made me a splendid offer.
MOLLY:
My goodness. Did he really, Millicent? What was his offer?
CARSTAIRS:
Ten dollars for my hat. He said it frightened Trigger. ...
FIBBER:
Used to be quite a horseman myself, Carsty. Had quite a string of polo ponies at one time.
CARSTAIRS:
Really? What happened to them?
MOLLY:
The string broke. ...
FIBBER:
I even used to ride bareback in the circus with 'em. Funny thing happened in connection with that, too; recently, too. I happened to be in Indianapolis. You know Indianapolis, Carsty?
CARSTAIRS:
Oh, indeed I do. It was named after one of my ancestors -- an Indian who'd gone to Annapolis. ...
MOLLY:
That's very interesting.
FIBBER:
Yeah, I-- Well, you know the big circle down there in Indianapolis? Well, I was walking along there one day and I seen two of the horses from my old circus act, from twenty years ago, and they were harnessed to a beer truck. Well, sir, the minute they seen me, they start snortin' for joy. They tossed their heads and arched their necks and started galloping around the circle, 'round and 'round and 'round.
CARSTAIRS:
Oh, wasn't that delightful? I suppose it had been years since they'd seen a clown. ...
FIBBER:
So what does I do but I throws off my overcoat, steps out of my shoes, and leaps onto their backs. And for twenty minutes we galloped around that circle, me jumping on and off, turning triple somersaults, handsprings and flip-flops.
MOLLY:
Well, after twenty years, I imagine a lot of your flips were flops, huh? ...
FIBBER:
But I forgot I didn't have any rosin on my feet and I slipped on one of their rumps and wham-o! -- everything went black.
CARSTAIRS:
Oh, were you knocked unconscious, Mr. McGee? I mean, more so than usual? ...
FIBBER:
No, I wasn't, Carsty. I flew through the air right into a "Keep Our City Clean" box -- and the lid fell on me. ...
MOLLY:
Hasn't himself here had the most fascinating experiences, Millicent?
CARSTAIRS:
Simply astounding, my dear. Sometime when you have a free hour, Mr. McGee, I should like to hear more of your circus stories.
FIBBER:
Why, sure, Carsty, anytime. Shall I give you a ring?
CARSTAIRS:
Under the circumstances, give me three rings.
FIBBER:
Mm.
MOLLY:
(CHUCKLES)
CARSTAIRS:
Good day, my dear.
SOUND:
DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES [... APPLAUSE FOR MRS. CARSTAIRS]
MOLLY:
Why not use that, McGee?
FIBBER:
Huh? Use what?
MOLLY:
Use that circus story as your tall story for the Elks Club contest.
FIBBER:
Oh, my gosh, kiddo, I can't do that.
MOLLY:
Why not?
FIBBER:
Why, those horses may still be living. ... I wouldn't wanna embarrass 'em. Boy, this is a tough assignment, you know it? I can't dream up any fantastic stories--
MOLLY:
Well now, you'd better, McGee.
FIBBER:
Well--
MOLLY:
If all those men at the Elks have bet big money on you--
FIBBER:
Yeah, that scares me, too.
MOLLY:
You know what? I talked to Mrs. Toops on the phone and she said her husband said all the Elks are betting their teeth on ya. ...
FIBBER:
Oh, my gosh, I don't--
MOLLY:
Sure, they say you're a three-to-one shot. Or three-to-one to get shot, I forget which. ...
FIBBER:
Well, doggone it, I just can't think of any wild yarns. I sit here and stare at this blank paper and nothing flows.
SOUND:
DOOR OPENS
WILCOX:
Hello, folks!
FIBBER:
Oh, hi, Junior.
MOLLY:
Hello, Mr. Wilcox.
WILCOX:
Feliz Año Nuevo, amigos.
FIBBER:
No, thanks, Junior, we haven't used up the old can yet. ...
MOLLY:
No, no, McGee. That was "Happy New Year" in Spanish, I think. Wasn't it, Mr. Wilcox?
WILCOX:
Sure. I picked up quite a bit of Spanish when I was deep-sea fishing down in Acapulco.
FIBBER:
Deep sea fishing in Acapulco, eh?
WILCOX: Yeah.
FIBBER:
You're just the guy I wanted to see, Junie. How do you spell it?
WILCOX:
D - Double E - P. S-E-A. F-I-S-H---
MOLLY:
No, no, he means Acapulco.
WILCOX:
Oh, oh, I don't know. I never paid any attention to the spelling. You see, I was down there with a bunch of Johnson Wax salesmen.
FIBBER:
I'll bet you were, Waxy. ... And I'll bet all you sportsmen made an agreement not to talk shop on the whole trip, too, didn't you?
WILCOX:
We sure did, Mac. For five whole days, not a word was said about fishing. All we talked about was Johnson's Wax.
MOLLY:
Ah, it's a great topic in the tropics.
WILCOX:
Yes, we swapped experiences about how we've sold way over our quotas of Johnson's Wax, how housewives loved it because it gave their homes that immaculate shining appearance.
FIBBER:
Yeah. I--
WILCOX:
How it made housekeeping so much easier because dust and dirt can't cling to a Johnson-Waxed surface.
FIBBER:
I was deep-sea fishing down in Acapulco once--
WILCOX:
And how a proud housekeeper kept finding new uses for Johnson's Wax -- floors, furniture, woodwork, picture frames, lampshades, window shades, Venetian blinds, luggage, banisters--
FIBBER:
(MIGHTILY) We went trolling for tuna, you see--! ... We were trolling for tuna and I had about a half a mile of line out--
MOLLY:
And, with your line, you could spare it. ...
FIBBER:
Well sir, suddenly I got a bite. I scratches it quick and then, like a flash-- ... Like a flash, I reels in. It was a terrific battle, but finally I reaches over the side with my gaff and what do you suppose I'd caught? A guy in a bathing suit with water wings on. ...
MOLLY:
How exasperating.
FIBBER:
Not at all, as it turned out. I yanks the guy on board and I says, I'm sorry, bud, I thought you were a tuna. He says, "I am. I'm a piana tuna." ... (APOLOGETIC ASIDE) Shucks, this is a holiday.
WILCOX:
Well, excuse me, pal, I've got to get going. I just stopped in to see how you were coming with your entry for the Elks' tall story contest.
MOLLY:
Well, he's a little discouraged about it, Mr. Wilcox.
FIBBER:
Yeah, I can't seem to think of a thing, Junior.
WILCOX:
Well, keep pitching, Mac, and, remember, the deadline is five o'clock.
SOUND:
DOOR CLOSES
FIBBER:
Ain't that awful, Molly? The deadline is five o'clock.
MOLLY:
Well, how much have you got written?
FIBBER:
All I've got so far is this.
SOUND:
PAPER RATTLING
FIBBER:
(READS) "An amazing thing happened to me when I was a cabin boy on a twelve-masted schooner bound 'round the horn."
MOLLY:
Bound 'round the horn?
FIBBER:
Yeah, I got my nose all cut up in a fight and I had it all bandaged up. ...
MOLLY:
Well, what's the story of the twelve-masted schooner?
FIBBER:
I'm darned if I know. I just don't seem to be able to make up imaginary stuff. Maybe I better start fresh and--
SOUND:
DOORBELL RINGS
FIBBER:
Oh, my gosh. How can a guy get his work done? Our threshold's been crossed more times today than Southern California's goal line. ... [APPLAUSE FOR THIS REFERENCE TO THAT DAY'S ROSE BOWL GAME] (CALLS) Come in!
SOUND:
DOOR OPENS
MOLLY:
Oh, hello there, Dr. Gamble. Do come in.
DOC:
Hello, Molly. Good afternoon, gargoyle.
FIBBER:
For a doctor, Arrowsmith, you've got an awful ignorant way of pronouncing "gargle." What can we do for you -- break a leg?
DOC:
No, I'm a committee of one, sent by the more sporting members of the Elks Club to pick up your story, McGee. Got it ready?
MOLLY:
Oh, heavenly days.
FIBBER:
Gee whiz, Doc, I'm in a spot, no kidding. I haven't been able to think of a thing. My imagination is dryer than a Kansas tea room.
DOC:
You better think of something, bilge pump, or I know seven underworld characters, including me, who will tear your head off and throw it in your face. Personally, I have wagered sixty-five dollars in folding money, four appendectomies, two adhesions, and a basal metabolism on you. Go on, concentrate.
MOLLY:
Do what the doctor says, McGee -- concentrate.
DOC:
Maybe he doesn't know how to concentrate.
FIBBER:
Certainly I know how to concentrate. My gosh, I spent six years in India studying to be a fakir, didn't I? ...
MOLLY:
Yeah, and forty years in this country. ...
FIBBER:
You betcha. I learned how to sit on a board full of nails all day long and just concentrate.
MOLLY:
Didn't it hurt, McGee?
FIBBER:
Not after I learned the secret of how to do it. Then I could sit on them nails all day and never feel a twinge.
DOC:
And what was the secret, master? Mind over matter or a heavy girdle over the derriere? ...
FIBBER:
It was very simple. Just drive the nails into the board and flatten 'em out. It's only the points that hurt ya. ...
MOLLY:
Simple when you know the trick, isn't it?
DOC:
You must show us the Indian rope trick sometime, fakir. I'll buy the rope, if you'll climb up it and disappear -- for good. And furthermore--
SOUND:
PHONE RINGS
FIBBER:
I'll get it.
MOLLY:
I'll get it.
DOC:
I'll get it.
SOUND:
PHONE RECEIVER UP
DOC:
Hello, Gamble speaking. -- Who? -- Oh, yes -- Yes -- Well, I'll be over there as soon as I can, Ray. In the meantime, take two five-grain headache tablets and apply cold compresses. And don't worry about it, Ray. You're not the first person who's lost one. Bye.
SOUND:
RECEIVER DOWN
MOLLY:
Lost what, Doctor?
DOC:
A weekend. ... [REFERENCE TO 1945 FILM "THE LOST WEEKEND" STARRING RAY MILLAND] McGee, do you know what time it is? Four-thirty! Where's that tall story?
FIBBER:
Oh, my gosh, Doc, I can't-- Well, gee whiz, this simply isn't my--
MOLLY:
McGee, they're all depending on you, though.
DOC:
You better get with it, bug face, or your life won't be worth ten cents worth of Hiroshima real estate.
FIBBER:
Well, doggone it, I don't know what to do. Hey--
DOC:
Huh?
FIBBER:
(GRIM) Wait a minute. Yeah, I do, too. I know what to do.
DOC:
Well, write it out quick, boy.
SOUND:
FIBBER'S RAPID TYPING UNDER NEXT SPEECHES
MOLLY:
Good for you, McGee.
FIBBER:
I'll fix 'em.
DOC:
I don't know why you leave these things till the last minute anyhow.
MOLLY:
Look at how fast he's going.
DOC:
He knew he had it to do.
SOUND:
FIBBER STOPS TYPING, PULLS OUT PAPER
FIBBER:
(NOT TRIUMPHANT, GLUM) There.
DOC:
Hurry up. Give it here, McGee. Come on, give it to me.
FIBBER:
Wait a minute, where's an envelope?
MOLLY:
Here, McGee.
FIBBER:
Thanks.
SOUND:
PAPER IN ENVELOPE
FIBBER:
Okay, Doc, give 'em that.
DOC:
Thanks, son. I knew you'd come through. Now, listen in to WVIS at six-thirty. They'll announce the winner.
MOLLY:
I knew he could do it, Doctor.
DOC:
So did I. He's got more tall tales than a herd of giraffes. (MOVING OFF) Goodbye, now.
SOUND:
DOOR CLOSES ... APPLAUSE
MUSIC:
ORCHESTRA PLAYS START OF SONG "I DON'T CARE IF I NEVER GO TO BED" BY AL HOFFMAN, MILTON DRAKE AND JERRY LIVINGSTON
WILCOX:
The King's Men sing "I Don't Care If I Never Go to Bed."
KING'S MEN:
(SING) I love musicand crowded places.
I love people and such.
I love singin' and smiling faces.
Love to stay awake too much.
Oh, I don't care if I never go to bed,
Never go to bed, never go to bed.
I don't care if I never go to bed,
'Cause I'm havin' such a darn good time.
I don't care if I never hit the hay,
Never hit the hay, never hit the hay.
I don't care if I never hit the hay,
'Cause the night is young and I feel fine.
It must be somebody's birthday
Or anniversary
And that's a very good reason
To sing this song with me.
Oh, I don't care if I never go to bed,
Never go to bed, never go to bed.
I don't care if I never go to bed,
'Cause I'm havin' such a darn good time.
[instrumental break, as singers holler drunkenly]
I don't care if I never wink a sleep,
Pardon me, I mean, never sleep a wink.
I don't care 'cause I'm feelin' in the pink,
Havin' such a darn good time.
I don't care if I never snooze a take,
Pardon me, I mean, never take a snooze.
I don't care 'cause I'm doin' what I choose,
Havin' such a darn good time.
I want to door all the ring bells.
I'm feelin' young and gaaaaaaay!
I want to spot the high hits
And night the dance away.
I don't care if I never bed to go.
Pardon me, I mean, this is what I said.
I don't care if I never go to bed,
Havin' such a darn good time!
Happy New Year!
MUSIC:
SONG ENDS
SOUND:
APPLAUSE
FIBBER:
(LOW DISGUSTED GROANING, TO HIMSELF)
MOLLY:
What are you looking so gloomy about, McGee? You came through with a tall tale, didn't you?
FIBBER:
No, I didn't. I came through with mine between my legs.
MOLLY:
What do you mean?
FIBBER:
I didn't send the Elks a story. I just sent my apologies. Told 'em I just couldn't handle it, that's all.
MOLLY:
Oh, heavenly days! And all those people who bet on you, too.
FIBBER:
I know, I know. I feel like a dog. But, gee whiz, Molly, I just can't sit down at a typewriter and deliberately prevaricate. Somehow it just don't seem -- honest, somehow. ...
MOLLY:
Well, cheer up, pet. My goodness--
SOUND:
DOORBELL RINGS
MOLLY:
Come in!
SOUND:
DOOR OPENS
MOLLY:
Oh, Mayor LaTrivia. Do come in, your honor.
MAYOR:
Oh, thank you, my dear.
SOUND:
DOOR CLOSES
MAYOR:
Hello, McGee.
FIBBER:
Hi, LaTrivia.
MAYOR:
Say, I have some good news for you folks. Remember Wallace Wimple?
MOLLY:
My goodness, yes.
FIBBER:
Little Wally Wimp? You mean the henpecked little guy that, when he was married, Frankenstein gave the bride away? ...
MAYOR:
Yes, that's the lad. I just got word that he's out of the service and will be back in Wistful Vista on the fifteenth of January.
MOLLY:
(PLEASED) Ohhhh.
FIBBER:
Well, good for Wally.
MAYOR:
It seems that the Navy finally saved up enough points to get rid of him. ...
MOLLY:
Ah, my, it'll be nice to see him again.
FIBBER:
Two weeks from today, eh? My gosh, that's--
MAYOR:
By the way, McGee, did you send the Elks your tall story for the contest?
FIBBER:
No. I - I guess I kinda fell down on the assignment, LaTriv. I went into it real enthusiastic, too. I was going to whip out a yarn that'd have all the other contestants green with ivy. I had--
MOLLY:
You mean envy, dear.
FIBBER:
Huh?
MOLLY:
People don't turn green with ivy.
FIBBER:
Oh, no? You mean I never told you about the kid I went to school with -- Little Eddie Creeper? ... The poor kid that was working his way through school?
MAYOR:
What about him, McGee?
FIBBER:
Well, he got so hungry he'd eat the leaves off the vines on the chemistry building, just to keep from starving.
MAYOR:
Well, if he wanted to browse, why didn't he go over to the li..library building?
MOLLY:
(LAUGHS)
FIBBER:
Bigger leaves on the chemistry bu..building. ... Well, sir, he ate so many of them leaves he started turning green with ivy, you see.
MOLLY:
Oh, dear. (GIGGLES)
MAYOR:
I suppose you're going to tell us he came home one night potted. ...
FIBBER:
No, the thing was, LaTrivia, he ate so many of them ivy leaves he got a peculiar habit of trying to climb the wall of the chemistry building. Every spring right after the rainy season, he'd do it. ... We found out later his father had been one of the Virginia Creepers. ... (SIGHS, TO HIMSELF) Creepers. ... Then a kind of a tragic thing happened.
MOLLY:
I know! He was attacked by caterpillars?
FIBBER:
No, no, it seems that one of the botany professors-- I think it was a botany professor-- What's the study of plant life called, LaTrivia?
MAYOR:
The National Labor Board. ...
MOLLY:
Oh, no, Mr. Mayor, what he means--
FIBBER:
Never mind, never mind. Anyway, they discovered there was no nourishment in ivy leaves and when this kid heard that, he fell right off the wall onto his history notebook. It weakened him so much they had to feed him Vigoro and tie him to a trellis to hold him up for the graduation exercises. ...
MAYOR:
That's a very interesting story, McGee. Is that the one you sent to the Elks Club?
MOLLY:
Well, no, it isn't, your honor.
FIBBER:
I'll probably have to resign from the Elks, LaTrivia. I wouldn't be able to show up there from now on without getting a hot foot every time I sat down.
MOLLY:
What's a hot foot?
FIBBER:
Oh, that's where you stick a match in the sole of a guy's shoe without him knowing it and light it.
MAYOR:
It's a stupid practical joke, Mrs. McGee, dedicated to the proposition that all men should be cremated equal. ... But about your entry in the contest, McGee, I certainly hope you--
MOLLY:
Heavenly days! Look what time it is! Time for the broadcast. Turn the radio on, McGee.
FIBBER:
Oh, okay.
SOUND:
CLICK! RADIO SWITCHED ON
FIBBER:
Not that I want to hear it, except out of morbid curiosity.
MAYOR:
McGee, I'm curious to know just exactly what you wrote--
MOLLY:
Quiet, Mr. Mayor, quiet! Listen!
ANNOUNCER:
(FILTER) --and now for the announcement of the First Prize winner in the Wistful Vista Elks Club annual tall story contest. The winner, who will receive a check for one hundred dollars, is Mr. Fibber McGee of 79 Wistful Vista.
FIBBER:
What?! Why, I didn't--
MOLLY:
Well, how on earth could he do that?
ANNOUNCER:
(FILTER) Mr. McGee's prize-winning entry consisted simply of this brief note, and I quote, "Tall Story Committee. Gentlemen, I'm sorry but I just don't seem to be able to sit down and deliberately tell a falsehood." ... (CHUCKLES) Well, to anyone who knows Mr. McGee, this will be recognized as the most fantastic whopper of all time. ... Congratulations, Mr. McGee, and now we return you to the--
SOUND:
RADIO CLICKED OFF
FIBBER:
(STUNNED, TO HIMSELF) Well, I'll be a-- Happy New Year.
SOUND:
APPLAUSE
MUSIC:
ORCHESTRA PLAYS A BRISK TUNE ... FADE FOR--
WILCOX:
In the coming year, Fibber McGee and Molly will most certainly be making many new friends. Friends who, perhaps, will be using Johnson's Glo-Coat on their floors and linoleum for the first time. Well now, any one of our many old friends could tell these ladies what a pleasing experience they have in store. With Self-Polishing Glo-Coat you can give your floors and linoleum the gleaming luster of a wax finish with practically no work at all. Glo-Coat needs no rubbing or buffing. It's self-polishing. You simply apply and let dry. In twenty minutes, come back and you'll find even old linoleum gleaming with a brand new beauty. It's amazing the difference it makes. And, of course, because Glo-Coat protects the surface from wear, new linoleum stays like new, both in bright appearance and in the way it wears. Yes, our new friends have a pleasant surprise coming when they first use Johnson's Self-Polishing Glo-Coat in the coming new year.
MUSIC:
ORCHESTRA FINISHES UP TUNE
FIBBER:
Ladies and gentlemen, when your country is at war, you naturally offer it your money, your services, and, if necessary, your life. But when the war is over, it's every person's privilege -- yes, even duty -- to think of himself again; his work and his future.
MOLLY:
The United States Merchant Marine, which made such a wonderful record of work done and heroic missions accomplished, offers a wonderful opportunity. It wants and needs you experienced officers and men who have been to sea -- men with certificates. If you're looking for a job with a great future, write or wire collect to "Merchant Marine, Washington, 25, D. C.," giving your rating and address.
FIBBER:
And if you've been on a well-earned holiday, we urge you to return to your ship. You won't be the first one who was smart enough to go back on the water after a celebration. ... Good night.
MOLLY:
Good night, all, and happy New Year.
MUSIC:
TO A CONCLUSION ... THEN THEME ... THEN IN BG
WILCOX:
Be with us again next Tuesday night. This is Harlow Wilcox speaking for the Johnson Wax people in Racine, Wisconsin and Branford, Ontario, who join all of us in wishing you a very happy New Year. Good night.
NBC ANNCR:
This is NBC, the National Broadcasting Company.
MUSIC:
THEME OUT FOR NBC CHIMES