| Title | A Night to Forget |
| Message Text | Okay, here's a transcript of "A Night to Forget": CHAPPELL: Quiet, please. (SEVEN SECONDS' SILENCE) CHAPPELL: Quiet, please. (MUSIC ... THEME ... FADE FOR) ANNCR: The Mutual Broadcasting System presents "Quiet, Please!" which is written and directed by Wyllis Cooper and which features Ernest Chappell. "Quiet, Please!" for tonight is called "A Night to Forget" ... (MUSIC ... THEME ... END) --- SOUND: (FOOTSTEPS, MAN CRASHES INTO SOME FURNITURE) JOHN H.: Excuse me. It's dark in here. SOUND: (ANOTHER CRASH) JOHN H.: I can't find a - doggone light. SOUND: (YET ANOTHER CRASH) JOHN H.: Where's the lights? ECHOING VOICE: There aren't any lights, John H. JOHN H.: Who's that? ECHOING VOICE: It's me. JOHN H.: What'd you say about the lights? ECHOING VOICE: I said there aren't any lights. JOHN H.: There's GOT to be. ECHOING VOICE: Not in here, John H. JOHN H.: Well, isn't this Studio Fifteen? ECHOING VOICE: You kidding? This is the morgue! (MUSIC ... AN ACCENT, THEN OUT) JOHN H.: (NARRATES) That was last night. I - think it was a dream. I remember I went to bed early because I had to get up so early this morning to get that stuff to Ted before he takes off for California. I - I drank a bottle of ginger ale with some lemon juice. I read Variety for about fifteen minutes. Then I went to sleep. Must have been, mmm, no later than ten-thirty. Then, THIS happened. I-- You know how it is sometimes when you get in a dream and you don't think you're dreaming and when you wake up you wonder whether it happened or not? Well, I was walkin' down the hall to Studio Fifteen for this broadcast. And, when I went in, it was all dark. And I stumbled around, tryin' to find a light. I hit my shin on something. Then this voice in the dark talked to me. ECHOING VOICE: You kidding? This is the morgue! JOHN H.: (NARRATES) I'll be darned if I can figure it out. I THINK it was a dream all right. But my shin hurts where I barked it. Mm, it's all black and blue. (MUSIC ... AN ACCENT, THEN UNDER) JOHN H.: (NARRATES) I woke up. And I lay there quite a while -- you know, half dopey -- tryin' to figure it out. I turned the lights on finally and - I was right there in my room - with my shin hurting me. I know I hadn't been out of bed because I was all wound up in the covers. And I - I couldn't get back to sleep again. You know how it is? You have a nightmare and you're afraid to go back to sleep 'cause you might have another one, uh, a worse one? Well, listen. (MUSIC ... OUT) JOHN H.: (NARRATES) I was just lying there - in my own room, with the lights on - lookin' at the ceiling and tryin' to think. And it - began to get dark. No, the - the lights didn't go out. I could SEE the lights. But it was dark. Everything just sort of - er, faded -- like in a movie, you know? And pretty soon it was - black dark. I tried to get up - but I couldn't. And I just - I just lay there, flat on my back - in the dark, in the silence. And I was scared. (MUSIC ... AN ACCENT) WOMAN'S VOICE: Doesn't he look nice? MAN'S VOICE: Beautiful. WOMAN'S VOICE: He's got that blue and white shirt on that I gave him. MAN'S VOICE: I wish I could have got that tie from him in time. I always liked that tie. WOMAN'S VOICE: It IS pretty. He certainly looks nice. MAN'S VOICE: Certainly does. JOHN H.: Uh, look. Will you two please get out of my room? WOMAN'S VOICE: What'd you say, John H.? JOHN H.: I - I said, get out of my room. WOMAN'S VOICE: Why, THIS isn't your room, John H. JOHN H.: Now, look-- MAN'S VOICE: Of course it isn't. JOHN H.: Now, look, if I have to get up and chase you out of here-- WOMAN'S VOICE: Why, John H., you KNOW you can't get up. MAN'S VOICE: Of course you can't. WOMAN'S VOICE: You're dead, John H. (MUSIC ... A SOMBER ACCENT, THEN OUT) JOHN H.: (NARRATES) And then it - it got - well, "undark." And pretty soon it was just the same as it was before I - I fell asleep. If I DID fall asleep. Look, I'm a - I'm a hardheaded guy, even if I do work on super-- er, supernatural radio shows. You don't want to believe this stuff -- you'd go nutty. Only-- Well, sometimes-- I - always sleep in pajamas. Both halves. I put on my pajamas when I went to bed last night. Red and white striped Textron. Yeah. Well, when I woke up -- or, when it got "undark" again -- I was wearin' a blue and white shirt I never saw in my life. And I was wearin' a hand-painted Countess Mara necktie that I never saw before either. (MUSIC ... AN ACCENT, THEN UNDER) JOHN H.: (NARRATES) So, this is TOO good. Somebody's playin' funny jokes on me. I love practical jokers -- in a pig's eye I do. Radio's full of practical jokers. All sorts of bum gags like Don Ameche used to do when he was a radio actor. You used to be readin' a commercial, giving a "this-a, that-a" -- Don'd come up behind ya and start to take your coat off. Well, you KNOW you can't stop. You're on the air and you have to make with this thing so you wiggle around, the first thing, he'd have your coat. Then he'd unbutton your suspender buttons. Take off your necktie. You can't do a thing but keep that ol' smile in your voice and go about "locked-in goodness" and "Please, Mrs. Housewife, buy the large economy size" and holding on to your pants with one hand and it's all very, very funny. Especially if the sponsor's sitting there in the booth lookin' at ya. So, I say to myself, some practical joker-- Only I add a couple of adjectives to that. (MUSIC ... OUT) JOHN H.: (NARRATES) Only thing is -- how did he get the lights to go out? I - I lie there a while and I think and I try to figure it out. And I - I shut my eyes, I guess. Anyway, when I opened 'em, it was dark again. (MUSIC ... A MOODY ACCENT, THEN UNDER) JOHN H.: (NARRATES) I'm walking around in the dark. And the ground is - is springy underfoot. There's a cool wind blowing. What are those things? Those - those white things? Why, they look like gravestones. They ARE gravestones. OLD MAN: Will you stand to one side, please, John H.? JOHN H.: (STARTLED) Excuse me. OLD MAN: I gotta get to work, see? This is an extra special rush job. I gotta get it done right away. JOHN H.: Uh-- OLD MAN: Uh, you say somethin', John H.? JOHN H.: Uh, I was - just gonna ask you -- what IS this place? OLD MAN: My goodness, John H., this is a cemetery! JOHN H.: Cemetery? OLD MAN: Certainly. Would you move your foot a little? JOHN H.: What am I doin' in a cemetery? OLD MAN: What do people usually do in a cemetery, John H.? SOUND: (METAL AGAINST STONE) JOHN H.: Why - why, what are - what are YOU doing? OLD MAN: Me? I'm just chiselin' your name on this gravestone. (MUSIC ... AN ACCENT, THEN OUT) JOHN H.: (NARRATES) And there it was -- made out in chalk on the gravestone: "John H." And I shut my eyes. When I opened 'em again, I was - I was lyin' on my bed. I-- Well, you know what people mean when they say their - their mind reels? Boy, I do. I rubbed my eyes and it felt like sand on my fingers. It wasn't sand, though. It was marble dust. (MUSIC ... AN ACCENT, THEN OUT) JOHN H.: (NARRATES) And - and, brother, I was shiverin'. This kind o' nightmare is a little TOO real. Then the telephone rang. SOUND: (PHONE STARTS RINGING) JOHN H.: (NARRATES) And - so I got up to answer it. Mind you, I was awake. Well, I KNOW I was. Well, the lights were on. I got up and I picked up the receiver. SOUND: (PHONE PICKS UP) JOHN H.: (NARRATES) I said: "Hello? Hello?" 1st VOICE: Sure is too bad, isn't it? 2nd VOICE: Sure is. I never heard of such a thing. JOHN H.: Hello?! Hello?! 1st VOICE: Poor old John H. JOHN H.: This IS John H.! Hello?! 2nd VOICE: Poor old Al, I'd say. It's tougher on him than on John H. 1st VOICE: Al? Al who? 2nd VOICE: Al April. You know, the sound effects man. 1st VOICE: Oh! I didn't know his name. JOHN H.: WHO IS THIS?! HELLO?! 2nd VOICE: Yes, he feels pretty awful about it. 1st VOICE: Well, I should think he would. JOHN H.: Who is--? 1st VOICE: Killing a man. 2nd VOICE: He didn't mean to, you dope. 1st VOICE: I know it - but just the same-- Poor old John H. He didn't know it was loaded. I mean loaded with bullets. Matter of fact, there was just the ONE bullet. 2nd VOICE: One was enough. 1st VOICE: Right on the air, too. 2nd VOICE: Yeah. I bet that was the first time a radio audience ever heard a real killing! (LAUGHS) 1st VOICE: Yeah. JOHN H.: Hello?! I wanna know who this is! 1st VOICE: Ah, what about his commercials? You know? 2nd VOICE: John H., you mean? 1st VOICE: Yeah. 2nd VOICE: Well, uh, I'm auditioning for the big one tomorrow. 1st VOICE: You ARE? 2nd VOICE: Yeah. They called me this morning. 1st VOICE: Gee. I wonder if I could get in on that. 2nd VOICE: Well, I don't know. I'm pretty sure they're going to pick me. 1st VOICE: I think I'll try anyway. Sure you won't mind? 2nd VOICE: No. Oh, no. 1st VOICE: Well, I'll see ya. Uh, poor old John H. 2nd VOICE: Yeah, too bad, wasn't it? So long. SOUND: (THEY HANG UP) JOHN H.: Who is that?! Hello?! -- Hello?! Hello?! SOUND: (JOHN H. RATTLES THE HOOK) OPERATOR: Yes, sir? JOHN H.: You got me in on a crossed wire or something. OPERATOR: Oh, no, sir. JOHN H.: Well, when you rang me, I picked up the phone and I-- OPERATOR: Well, I'm sorry, sir, but I didn't ring you. JOHN H.: What? OPERATOR: Why, I haven't had a call for you all evening. (MUSIC ... AN ACCENT) JOHN H.: (NARRATES) Now, that wasn't a nightmare. Or a dream. THAT happened. Even if the operator DID say she didn't ring me. Whoever it was playin' a joke on me, they fixed it with the operator so she'd say that -- didn't they? All right, that's the way I figured it, too. So, this was about eleven-thirty. At half past twelve, the manager of the hotel called me on the phone. MANAGER: I hate to wake you up at this hour of the night, John H., but I thought maybe Radio Registry or somebody might've called you and couldn't get you, see, and I know how important it is for people on the radio to get their calls and-- JOHN H.: What are you talking about? MANAGER: Why, I just thought you might want to call Registry and see if they've been tryin' to get you, see? JOHN H.: I don't get it. MANAGER: Oh. Excuse me. See, uh, something happened to our telephones about ten o'clock and nobody's been able to get a call in or out of the hotel since then and I-- (MUSIC ... JAZZ ORGAN BRIDGE, THEN UNDER) JOHN H.: (NARRATES) Well, maybe my practical jokers might've got to the manager, too. But this morning, when I came downstairs, I - I found he wasn't kidding. The phones HAD been out for two hours and a half. Mm, somethin' blew up in the switchboard or something. And that's carrying a practical joke an awful long ways, isn't it? Yeah. That's one night I won't forget, believe me. Yeah, but I gotta stop this kind o' talk. And this kind o' thinking. Ahh, I WILL forget it. Heck, it was probably a lot o' nightmares. I'm gonna stop drinkin' ginger ale before I go to bed. Yeah. Well, anyway, I - I saw Ted and gave him the stuff and he got away to California okay. I - I sort of had a hunch that if this was a gag, Ted might've had a hand in it. So I made a few cracks but he didn't give it a tumble -- you know, like he would if he had anything to do with it? He can go just so far with a gag and then he can't keep his face straight. But he - he didn't fall for any o' my hints at all. So ... Ah, man, I gotta forget it. But, just for laughs, when I see that Al April, I'm gonna make him show me that sound effects pistol - (CHUCKLES) - believe me. So then I went and did my commercial. The guy from the agency was there. He had the renewal of my contract with him so-- Well, anyway, after I signed it and he signed it, they're not gonna hold auditions for MY job tomorrow. So, like they say on the radio, here we are at the bottom o' the well. (MUSIC ... OUT) JOHN H.: (NARRATES) This is no dream. This is the hallway that goes down to Studio Fifteen. And there's Miss Rose. "Hello, Miss Rose!" Through the door. There's the drinking fountain on the left. And the lights are turned on -- it's bright. Ah, I'm early today. (CHUCKLES) Wanna be here early so I can talk to Al April and look at that sound effects gun. I'm not dreamin' now. [?] Studio Fifteen. In the door. Look in the control room. Nobody there. Hang up my coat. Better go in the studio. Here's the light switch. It's right where it always was. And the lights go on. Yeah, studio looks all right. Nobody here yet. MR. DEATH: You're late, John H.! JOHN H.: (STARTLED) I'm not, either. Look at the clock. Oh. Who are you? MR. DEATH: I'm Mr. Death. (PRONOUNCED "DEETH") I got your note and came right over. JOHN H.: Note? What note? MR. DEATH: Mm, the note you wrote me to meet you here tonight. JOHN H.: I didn't write any note. MR. DEATH: Why, you certainly did. I've got it right here in my briefcase. Yup, got it right here-- JOHN H.: I don't know what you're talkin' about, mister. MR. DEATH: Ah, just a second. Oh, my goodness, I don't seem to have it after all. But I'm here, so that's all that matters, isn't it? JOHN H.: What'd you say your name is? MR. DEATH: Death! (PRONOUNCED "DEETH") (MUSIC ... AN ACCENT, THEN UNDER) JOHN H.: Well, what'd you want? I'm - I'm on the air in just a little while. MR. DEATH: Oh, it won't take long, John H. I've got the catalogue right here. And, uh, you can pick one out in no time. Ah, 'bout how high'd you want to go? JOHN H.: What'd you say your name is again? MR. DEATH: Death. (PRONOUNCED "DEETH") Ah! Here's the catalogue. JOHN H.: How do you spell it? MR. DEATH: Spell what? JOHN H.: Your name. MR. DEATH: Oh. Uh, D-E-A-T-H. (MUSIC ... A SOMBER ACCENT, THEN OUT) MR. DEATH: Er, shall we sit down here at the table where I can spread out the catalogue? JOHN H.: Listen, Mr. Deeth or whatever your name is, this gag has gone just about far enough. MR. DEATH: Why, what gag, John H.? JOHN H.: Your gag. My friends' gag. I'm tired of it. Suppose you scram. MR. DEATH: What are you talkin' about, John H.? I don't indulge in gags. Not in MY business. JOHN H.: And what IS your business, Mr. Death pronounced Deeth? MR. DEATH: I don't know whether you're tryin' some of your radio humor on me, John H. -- ya drag me all the way down from the Bronx to let you pick out a coffin. JOHN H.: A coffin? MR. DEATH: Ya think I'm in the grocery business? JOHN H.: Listen, I-- MR. DEATH: Now, this one here you wouldn't want. Man as well-known and, uh, prosperous as you, John H., you - you wouldn't want to be found dead in this one! (LAUGHS) No, sir, you wouldn't be found dead in it -- eh? JOHN H.: Look, buster, I don't WANT a coffin. MR. DEATH: Ah, then why did you sign an order for one and pay a substantial down payment? JOHN H.: I didn't. MR. DEATH: All right, all right. Well, let's get this settled, uh-- Now, this model, uh -- Twenty-Three, code name: "Tired" -- this'll set you back, uh, four forty-one, uh, twenty-two cents. Tax included, of course. JOHN H.: I don't want it. MR. DEATH: Uh, somethin' a little more expensive perhaps, eh? Ah, here's a dandy! Code name "Sleepy"! Solid rosewood. Well, practically solid. Hand-polished silver alloy handles, nylon lining, in your choice of color-- JOHN H.: I don't want it! MR. DEATH: Okay. Okay. Ahhhh! Well, what do you know about THIS for a coincidence? JOHN H.: Huh? MR. DEATH: By George, I didn't know THIS model was in the book! Lookit there! JOHN H.: What? MR. DEATH: Look at the code name! JOHN H.: (READS SOBERLY FROM CATALOGUE) Code name ... "John H." (MUSIC ... SOMBER ACCENT) MR. DEATH: Man, is that a job! You know, I haven't seen this model yet. Look how it's streamlined. Plastics, too -- the latest thing. Real built-in factory-engineered dependability. Finest model we've ever made. And look! It's fireproof! (MUSIC ... SLY ACCENT) MR. DEATH: And that coincidence about the code name -- the, uh, the - the "John H." -- eh, well, you know what, John H.? You'll be the very first user of this latest model. Stand up! JOHN H.: What for? MR. DEATH: My goodness, this is a made-to-measure job, John H.! Nothin' too good for you famous radio people. Stand right up there. That's it. Now, let me see, uh, dimension A. My, you have broad shoulders, don't you? Here, let me put this down. There. JOHN H.: Listen, mister, please, I-- MR. DEATH: I'm gonna get it absolutely right, John H.! I tell you, I can hardly wait to see ya in it! Stand still. JOHN H.: Listen, this has gone far enough. MR. DEATH: Just hold the tape measure. There, now. Let me see. Uh, uh, three inches above your head. Now, uh-- (BENDS, FROM BELOW) Six feet, four inches. (RISES) Ah! I didn't realize you were that tall, John H., uh -- How much do you weigh? JOHN H.: (FINALLY ENTERS THE SPIRIT OF THE THING) Well, let's see, uh, I - I've lost seventeen pounds since I went on the diet. MR. DEATH: My, my. You must tell me about that. If we have time. Seventeen pounds? JOHN H.: Yeah. MR. DEATH: And that makes it--? JOHN H.: Uh, a hundred and ninety, uh, uh, one. MR. DEATH: Oh, my gracious, I can save ya a little money, then! The oversized models carry a four per cent discount, ya see. The little ones are harder to make. You're very fortunate, John H. Now-- JOHN H.: Huh? MR. DEATH: Uh, the plaque on the lid. See here? JOHN H.: Yeah? MR. DEATH: Yeah. Well, we can engrave that with any lodge emblem or, uh, you know -- Are you an Oddfellow or a Moose or anything like that? (LAUGHS) You ARE a big fella and I suppose you could say in slang that you're a big moose! (LAUGHS) Get it? JOHN H.: No. The only thing I belong to is the Lambs. MR. DEATH: Lambs? Lambs. Oh, my, John H., I - I really don't think we could do that. Er, y'see, we carry all the well known emblems in stock but, uh, the Lambs, we'd, uh, have to have that engraved and I'm terribly afraid there won't be time. JOHN H.: Huh? MR. DEATH: Well, you said it was a rush job, remember? Matter of fact, it's tonight, isn't it? JOHN H.: What's tonight? MR. DEATH: When you're to be killed. If I remember correctly, uh, said in your note with the order that a sound effects pistol was to-- JOHN H.: Mr. Deeth! Did - did I write that? MR. DEATH: Well, I couldn't swear to it in court, of course, John H., but SOMEBODY wrote it and your name was signed to it. JOHN H.: Well, look -- I'll write my name. SOUND: (PEN TO PAPER) JOHN H.: There. Uh, is that the signature? MR. DEATH: (AFTER A BEAT) Absolutely identical, John H. Yes, sir, absolutely identical. I remember the curlicues on the "H." JOHN H.: I - I don't understand this. MR. DEATH: Ah, it's perfectly simple. You're going to die and you need a respectable, refined late model coffin, that's all. JOHN H.: Are - are you sure I'm gonna die? MR. DEATH: Cheer up, John H.! Of COURSE you're goin' to! JOHN H.: You know, I - I heard that before. MR. DEATH: Yeah, it's all over town. JOHN H.: Tonight? MR. DEATH: That's what you said. JOHN H.: By a - by a shot from a - a sound effects pistol? MR. DEATH: I saw it in your own handwriting. JOHN H.: How did I - KNOW, Mr. Deeth? MR. DEATH: (CHUCKLES) I'm sure I don't know, John H. JOHN H.: Is - isn't there any way out of it? MR. DEATH: Ah, don't ask me. I'm just a salesman. And you're just a customer. Not that I don't enjoy listenin' to you on the radio, John H., I really do. And I must say that you're gonna be a great loss to the, uh, uh-- Art? Science? Pro - profession? What - what - what do you call it? JOHN H.: It's a living. MR. DEATH: Ah, living. And, uh, now, it's a dying! (CRACKS UP WITH LAUGHTER) Mustn't mind my little jokes, John H.! (LAUGHS) I'm an inveterate joker! (LAUGHS) JOHN H.: (HOPEFUL) Is this - one of your jokes? MR. DEATH: (SUDDENLY GRAVE) Oh, no, John H. This - this is strictly business. Now, uh, eh, did - did you want to give me a check for the remainder now? JOHN H.: Well, I-- MR. DEATH: I - I think possibly that'd be wisest, considering that, uh, well, you know how long it takes to get money out of an estate. JOHN H.: Now, look, uh-- What if I don't die? MR. DEATH: Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. JOHN H.: Well, what if I don't? MR. DEATH: Well, you will eventually, John H., and, uh, at least we'd have time to engrave anything you wanted on the plaque. JOHN H.: Mm hmm. MR. DEATH: So, uh-- Oh, I guess-- Excuse me. (QUIETLY) Is, uh, this the gentleman that's going to shoot you? JOHN H.: Huh? Oh. Hello, Al. AL APRIL: Hi, John H.! (CHUCKLES) Well, ya get killed again tonight. (CHUCKLES) JOHN H.: I do, huh? AL APRIL: Says here ya do. JOHN H.: Uh, how - how do I get killed this time, Al? AL APRIL: Get shot. JOHN H.: I see. Excuse me. Mr. Deeth? AL APRIL: Certainly. MR. DEATH: (QUIETLY, TO JOHN H.) Is he the one? JOHN H.: He - he's the sound man. Al April. MR. DEATH: (AS IF APPRAISING AL) Uh huh. Uh huh. Verrrry interesting. JOHN H.: (CALLS OUT) Uh, say, Al? AL APRIL: Yeah? JOHN H.: You - you ever have any accidents with those guns? AL APRIL: (LAUGHS) Naw! How could ya? JOHN H.: I don't know. AL APRIL: Uh, what kind o' accidents? JOHN H.: Really shootin' somebody. AL APRIL: With these things? Heh! Naw. Look, in the first place, they're loaded with blanks. In the second place, there ain't any place for the bullet to come out - if there was one. And, in the third place, I always shoot 'em at the floor. So, how could I shoot somebody? JOHN H.: I - was just wondering. MR. DEATH: You know, I always wondered how ya do sound effects on the air. This is most interesting! JOHN H.: This is Mr. Deeth, Al. AL APRIL: How are you, Mr. Deeth? Your face looks familiar. You in radio? MR. DEATH: Oh, my, no! I'm a salesman. AL APRIL: Ohhh. JOHN H.: Can - can I look at the guns, Al? AL APRIL: Sure. JOHN H.: Which one ya gonna use on the show? AL APRIL: Uh, this one. Say, what's the matter with you, John H.? JOHN H.: I'm a little nervous, I guess, Al. AL APRIL: Mm. (CHUCKLES) Thought you was on the wagon. (CHUCKLES) JOHN H.: Well, I am. I - I'm just a little nervous, I guess. Let's see the bullets. AL APRIL: Hey, they're not bullets. Blanks. JOHN H.: Well, the blanks. AL APRIL: Mm, here. JOHN H.: (AFTER A BEAT) How do you load it? AL APRIL: Ahh, give it to me. (PAUSE) There! JOHN H.: Ah. Can I shoot it? AL APRIL: Mm, sure. What'd you wanna shoot it for? JOHN H.: Well, I - I gotta make sure o' somethin'. MR. DEATH: John H. is sure he's gonna be shot tonight. JOHN H.: That's right, Al. I - I just wanna test out these shells. AL APRIL: Well, that's silly because-- Ooh, go ahead. But don't point it at me. JOHN H.: I thought you said you couldn't shoot anybody with it. AL APRIL: Well, you know, the wadding. It stings -- kinda. JOHN H.: You - you'd use these same shells on the show, huh? AL APRIL: Mm, sure. Whatcha scared of? JOHN H.: I just - I just, uh-- I got a hunch, Al. AL APRIL: Well, those are the same shells I'll use on the show. Go ahead and shoot. I'm gonna get set up. JOHN H.: Okay, Al. You asked for it. AL APRIL: Hey! Don't point that gun at me! SOUND: (GUNSHOT) AL APRIL: Ahh! Doggone it! Hey, I TOLD you about that wadding! It stings, doggone it! SOUND: (GUNSHOT) AL APRIL: (GASPING, CHOKING) JOHN H.: I'm sorry, Al. AL APRIL: You - you shot me! SOUND: (BODY FALLS TO THE FLOOR) JOHN H.: (TRIUMPHANT) There, Mr. Deeth. MR. DEATH: (ASTONISHED) Why, John H.! You killed him! JOHN H.: (COOLLY) That's right. So I'm not gonna die after all. Take your coffins and get out of here! MR. DEATH: (MUCH AMUSED) Why, don't be silly, John H.! Of COURSE you're gonna die! JOHN H.: I am not! MR. DEATH: Why, certainly you are! You murdered poor Al in cold blood! And they'll send YOU to the electric chair! JOHN H.: Yeah? (LAUGHS) How they gonna do that? They won't have any witnesses! Except you! MR. DEATH: Why, John H.! How foolish! What about the people listening to ya on the radio? Goodness, John H.! Don't you KNOW - you're on the air?! (MUSIC ... THEME ... FADE FOR) ANNOUNCER: The title of the "Quiet, Please!" story you have listened to is "A Night to Forget." Wyllis Cooper writes and directs "Quiet, Please!" and John H., the man who spoke to you, was Ernest Chappell. CHAPPELL: And James Monks played Mr. Death. (PRONOUNCED "DEETH") Al April was played by Murray Forbes (AMUSED) and, uh, sound effects on the show were played by Al April. Others in the cast were Jack Tyler, Kermit Murdock, Lon Clark and Polly Cole. Original music for "Quiet, Please!", as usual, is played by Albert Buhrmann. Now, for a word about next week's "Quiet, Please!", here's our writer-director, Wyllis Cooper. COOPER: Tonight's show was the fortieth in this series of "Quiet, Please!" Next week, for the forty-first, I think I'll call the show - after the name of our series. Let's call it "Quiet, Please." CHAPPELL: And so until next week at this same time -- and "Quiet, Please" -- I am quietly yours, Ernest Chappell. ANNOUNCER: "Quiet, Please!" comes to you from New York. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System. (MUSIC ... THEME ... END) |
| Rating |
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| Ownership | MS |
| Views | 901 views. Averaging 0 views per day. |
| Submission Date | May 02, 2004 |