“Monkees on the Line” Script

Teaser

INT. THE PAD

MIKE:
Hey, somebody get the phone! Will somebody please—[picks up the phone] Hello? Oh. [hangs up] Hey guys, that could have been a very important call; somebody might have been calling up to give us a job. Look guys, we got to talk about this whole thing.

MICKY:
What’s up, Mike?

MIKE:
Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye, and everything else that goes with it. Whereas we have not had a job in three or four weeks, right?

DAVY, MICKY, PETER:
Right.

MIKE:
Right. And whereas, uh, there’s got to be somebody in this world that wants the use of our talents, right?

DAVY, MICKY, PETER:
Right.

MIKE:
And whereas nobody answers the phone, and nobody’s ever here even if somebody did call for a job, we should get an answering service, right?

DAVY, MICKY, PETER:
Right.

MIKE:
Okay, fine. I got the number for this answering service out of the phone book, and we’ll just call ’em up. I mean, you never know how many new things are going to open up for you when there’s somebody always there to answer your phone. You can get jobs and millions of things. There’s always somebody there. Morning, noon, and night. Twenty-four hours a day. They’re right there on the job and never fail.

MICKY:
Well?

MIKE:
Well, there’s, there’s no answer.

“(Theme From) The Monkees”

Act One

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

MIKE:
Well, um, that’s our problem, you see. We’d like to use your answering service, except, uh—

MICKY:
Well, we’re a little short of cash.

MIKE:
Yeah, about that short.

DAVY:
Could you possibly give us a, a cut rate or something?

MIKE:
See because, as soon as we get a job, w-we’ll pay you the full amount.

DREHDAL:
Did you boys say you was looking for a job? Well, why didn’t you say so? You! You know how to work a telephone?

PETER:
Yes, yes, I do. [picks up the phone] Hello? Hello? [hangs up] This one’s broken.

DREHDAL:
Boys, I’ll make you a deal. You stay here and take care of my phones, I’ll pay you the regular salary, and I’ll throw in the service free. What do you say? Do you want to take the job?

DAVY:
No, thank you.

MIKE:
Wait a minute, will you please? Huh. No, we can’t, you see, because we’re musicians.

DREHDAL:
Great! You can listen to the dial tone. Ha!

MIKE:
She’s crazy. Let’s get out of here.

DREHDAL:
Hey, wait a minute. Where you going?

MIKE:
Uh, well, we’re going to talk it over. Huh.

DREHDAL:
Talk, talk. What’s to talk about? Don’t you realize the chance I’m giving you? You can be the warm heart of this cruel world. In the cold world, there are men—

INT. BLACK BACKGROUND

DREHDAL:
—whose very existence depends on us in the answering service and you can be part of it. This city will be in your fingers. Come, answer their phones.

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

DAVY:
How can we turn that down?

PETER:
I don’t want to be a murderer.

MIKE:
We’ll do it. We’ll do it. Anything!

DREHDAL:
Good! Oh, I forgot to mention. In bringing all this warmth and happiness to the world, don’t get involved with the clients. Well, which one of you is on the first shift?

MICKY:
Me!

DAVY:
I’ll do it! I’ll do it!

PETER:
Me!

MIKE:
I’ll do—hold it! Wait a minute. Let’s, uh, decide this democratically.

PETER:
We’ll choose fingers.

MIKE:
Yes, I choose that one. Ooh, I won! I won. That means that I’ve got the city in my fingertips.

PETER:
How come Mike always wins?

MICKY:
He has six fingers on that hand.

DAVY:
Hey, Mike. We’ll relieve you in a couple of hours, alright? Goodbye, Mrs. Drehdal.

MICKY:
Bye-bye.

MIKE:
Bye.

DREHDAL:
Bye, boys.

MIKE:
Well, so I go to work. Oh, this is gonna be fun. Walls and ceilings and everything and phones, a veritable sea of telephones, just multi-colored communicators…

DREHDAL:
Oh, you’ll love it here. Oh yeah.

MIKE:
I mean, just keep in touch and work and, and love your job. I—

DREHDAL:
You’ll have a swell time here.

MIKE:
It’s a wonderful place you’ve got here.

DREHDAL:
Well, now that you boys are joining the firm, I can go to Jamaica with a free mind.

MIKE:
Jamaica?!

DREHDAL:
That’s right, honey.

MIKE:
W-w-w-wait a minute! You haven’t told me how to handle any of this stuff.

DREHDAL:
Why, nothing could be easier! The phone rings, ding-a-ling-a-ling, you plug it in the hole, you answer it, you write down the message, when the client calls in, you give him the message. What could be easier?

MIKE:
Going to Jamaica. Wuh, huh, hold it!

DREHDAL:
Yeah?

MIKE:
I just noticed this red button here on the wall, the button here that is on the wall, that is red. What’s it for?

DREHDAL:
Push it if you get tired. Bye-bye, honey.

MIKE:
Bye. Well, Monkees are notoriously curious; I’ll just push it now. Hold it, Mrs. D—there’s a bed in the wall. Oh, I see, if you get tired, there’s a little bed there. Oh, that’s very funny. Push it and there it goes. Oh, that’s clever. Huh. Hello? Hello? Hello? Hold it. Hello? How do you tell which one’s ringing? Hello? Hello? Hello there. How do you—hello? Hello? Hello? Yes. Oh. Urgent Answering Service.

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

ELLEN:
I had to speak to someone; I just can’t go on. I’m so terribly alone.

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

MIKE:
Uh, alone? Um, hold on just a second. Hello? Yes, this is Mr. Farfel’s—yes, this is. Mm-hm. No, he’s not in right now. Can I take a message? What do you mean it’s none of my business? Now then, w-what were you saying, honey?

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

ELLEN:
I just can’t go on. I had to speak to someone. I’m so terribly alone, so completely alone.

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

MIKE:
Wait, w-wait a minute. Who is this message for?

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

ELLEN:
Who is it for? It’s for the whole rotten world.

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

MIKE:
The whole rotten world? No, I’m sorry; they are not listed—uh, hold on a second. Hello?

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

ELLEN:
Hello?

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

MIKE:
No, I’m sorry. You must have a wrong number; we don’t have a telephone. Hello?

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

ELLEN:
Where’d you go? Hello?

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

MIKE:
Yeah, now wait a minute. What were you saying?

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

ELLEN:
I just can’t go on.

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

MIKE:
Well-

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

ELLEN:
I’m going to end it all and don’t try and stop me.

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

MIKE:
No, don’t do it, don’t do it. Don’t, don’t do it, please! Don’t do—wait, wait, wait, stop!

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

ELLEN:
Hello?

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

MIKE:
Hello, where are—

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

ELLEN:
Where are you?

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

MIKE:
Please, can you hear me?

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

ELLEN:
Hello?

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

MIKE:
What’s with all this ringing?

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

ELLEN:
Are you there?

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

MIKE:
Don’t do it. Are you there? Don’t do it. Don’t. Don’t do it.

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

MICKY:
Ah, he’s a sick man. Sick boy. Yes.

DAVY:
Rub his wrists.

MICKY:
See if you can hear his heartbeat.

PETER:
I don’t hear anything.

MICKY:
Conference, doctors. I’m afraid we’re going to have to take drastic measures.

DAVY, PETER:
Not!

MICKY:
Yes.

DAVY, PETER:
Ah!

MIKE:
Don’t do that.

MICKY:
Congratulations, doctors. A successful operation.

MIKE:
Urgent Answering Service, don’t do it.

MICKY:
Oh, alright. We won’t do it. What’s he talking about?

MIKE:
That girl. She’s going to end it all.

DAVY:
What girl?

MIKE:
On the phone.

PETER:
I don’t see any girl on the phone. Do you see any—

MIKE:
We’ve got to get to her before it’s too late.

DAVY:
What’s her name? What’s her name?

MIKE:
I don’t know her, uh, yellow phone wire to the… in there. She’s in there!

MICKY:
She must be awful skinny.

PETER:
That’s number one forty-six.

DAVY:
One forty-six? Quick, let’s check the files.

MICKY:
Which one?

PETER:
One forty-seven.

MICKY:
It’s not here, Mike!

PETER:
We can’t find it, Mike.

MIKE:
I know it’s not there; it’s here.

PETER:
Oh.

MIKE:
Ellen Farnsby, four-five-five-four Blimp Street. Ha, that’s it! Let’s go, Micky. I hope we’re not too late.

PETER:
Hey, wait a minute.

DAVY:
Hey, fellas, maybe you’d better stick around here.

PETER:
Yeah, you’re not supposed to get involved with the clients.

MIKE:
Wuh, that—no time for that. It’s a matter of life and death.

MICKY:
Yeah.

MIKE:
Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute. Where’s my hat? It was—can I have my hat, please? Hat, please. Come on. Thank you, babe.

MICKY:
Where’d you get that?

MIKE:
From the wardrobe. Come on, let’s go. It’s a matter of life and death.

DAVY:
Hey, you know, this is gonna be great, staying around here. It’s quiet and everything. Fancy getting paid for nothing.

PETER:
Ha ha ha ha.

DAVY:
Hey. Hey, what’s this? “Mr. Smith, call Zelda Baby. Love, love, love. Urgent.” Did Smith call in for this message?

PETER:
No, why?

DAVY:
I’d better deliver it; it might be urgent.

PETER:
Oh. Hey, wait, wait. Don’t—Davy.

INT. SMITH APARTMENT HALLWAY

DAVY:
Uh, hello. Are you Mr. Smith?

MR. SMITH:
Yeah. What do you want?

DAVY:
I’ve got a message here for you. It says here, “Call Zelda Baby. Love, love, love. Urgent.”

MR. SMITH:
But I don’t know any Zelda Baby; it must be a mistake.

MRS. SMITH:
A mistake, huh? I’ll “Zelda Baby”—

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

MICKY:
Miss Farnsby?

MIKE:
Ellen?

MICKY:
Miss Farnsby?

MIKE:
Ellen Farnsby?

MICKY:
Ellen Farnsby? Ellen Farn—oh!

MIKE:
Oh!

MICKY:
Miss Farnsby?

MIKE:
Ooh-woo! Would you look at this stuff?

MICKY:
Boy, it’s nice to see a girl with a hobby.

MIKE:
I hope we’re not too late.

MICKY, MIKE:
She’s not here!

MICKY:
Look at this note. It says, “It’s no use going on. It’s all over.”

MIKE:
You think that’s something? Look at this note. It says, “It’s no use going on. It’s all over.”

MICKY:
I think she’s trying to tell us something.

MIKE:
Her datebook. She says she’s supposed to be at the theater today.

INT. THEATER

ELLEN:
I had to speak to someone. I can’t take any more of this cold city.

DIRECTOR:
Oh, Ellen, that was great, great, great! You must have been rehearsing an awful lot.

ELLEN:
Well, I’ve been living the part; I’ve been rehearsing with my answering service.

DIRECTOR:
Yes, yes, yes! Now, remember: this is a woman about to give it all up. Suffer, suffer, suffer. Keep rehearsing. Live the part. Live, live, live!

ELLEN:
I shall, I shall, I shall!

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

PETER:
Hello? Urgent An-answering Fer, uh, serv, uh ferven, uh, fervor is our, uh, service is our bi—uh, business is our, fingers in the city, uh… hello?

INT. SPINK’S OFFICE

SPINK:
This is Manny Spink, the theatrical booking agent. Yeah. I’ve got a little act to place. Uh-huh. Tell Freddy when he calls that I’ve got a booking for The Popsicles.

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

PETER:
The Popsicles?

INT. SPINK’S OFFICE

SPINK:
That’s right; they’re a vocal group.

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

PETER:
Okay.

INT. SPINK’S OFFICE

SPINK:
Tell ’em they go on the third.

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

PETER:
Go on third.

INT. SPINK’S OFFICE

SPINK:
And I can get them ten thousand dollars.

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

PETER:
Pay them ten thousand dollars.

INT. SPINK’S OFFICE

SPINK:
Got that?

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

PETER:
I’ll give ’em the message.

INT. SPINK’S OFFICE

SPINK:
Good.

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

PETER:
Good.

INT. SPINK’S OFFICE

SPINK:
Thank you very much. Huh huh.

ARNOLD:
Gee, Manny, you must be some kind of genius to have figured out this scheme. Imagine, placing gambling bets through an answering service without their knowing it.

SPINK:
Mmm, that’s right, Arnold. All I do is pretend that the horses are vocal groups, and I’m a booking agent. With all the crazy names singing groups have these days, who’d ever suspect? Ha ha!

INT. THEATER

DIRECTOR:
It’s a cruel world. I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t—

MIKE:
Pardon me, please, sir! Pardon me, sir, uh—

DIRECTOR:
Yes, yes, yes?

MIKE:
Well, we’re looking for a Miss Ellen Farnsby. We have reason to believe that she’s here.

DIRECTOR:
Yes, yes, yes. She just departed.

MICKY, MIKE:
What?!

DIRECTOR:
For her apartment.

MIKE:
Oh. Well, uh, how was she acting, you know?

DIRECTOR:
How was she acting?

MIKE:
Yeah, was she—

DIRECTOR:
She was nervous, tense, depressed, like she wanted to end it all. Good, good, good, good!

MICKY:
Oh, nervous, tense, depressed. Ha, she’s okay.

MIKE:
Sure. We’d better get to her apartment fast.

MICKY:
Hey, wait, wait; I’ve gotta relieve Peter.

MIKE:
Oh, Peter can wait, man. Uh, on second thought, maybe you better go relieve Peter.

MICKY:
Right.

MIKE:
A-ha. Bye.

Act Two

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

ELLEN:
Yes?

MIKE:
Are you Ellen Farnsby?

ELLEN:
Jeffrey!

MIKE:
Oh, I’m not Jeffrey. Uh, I’m, uh, I’m the Urgent Answering Service, you see, and, uh, well, you hadn’t called to pick up any of your messages, so I thought that I’d come over and see if maybe your phone was out of order or something like that.

ELLEN:
My phone’s alright. There’s never any messages for me; no one cares if I live or die.

MIKE:
No—no messages? Are you kidding? Of course there’s messages. They’re all over the office. I have them here. There are millions of messages all for Ellen Farsby just piled up. Here’s one right here. It says, “Stop on the way home and pick up some pickles and lettuce and peanut butter—”

ELLEN:
Oh!

MIKE:
Uh, no, wait a minute, I mean, it says, uh, yeah, it says, “Dear Ellen. We need you, we love you. The city wants you. Don’t be depressed. Don’t be unhappy.” Um, but they, they didn’t leave a name.

ELLEN:
Stop, stop, stop. It’s too late for all that. There’s nothing left.

MIKE:
But, wait a minute, wait a minute. No! Uh, we, uh, don’t want any condors flying in here.

ELLEN:
What are they?

MIKE:
Well, it’s a, it’s a California state bird. You know, woo, wah!

ELLEN:
Ah!

MIKE:
Wait, wait.

ELLEN:
Farewell!

MIKE:
No!

ELLEN:
Give me the knife!

MIKE:
Um, no, well, I need it.

ELLEN:
What for?

MIKE:
I want to use it on the condors.

ELLEN:
The what?

MIKE:
The condors. Big bird, you know, big beak and wak wak.

ELLEN:
Poison is faster.

MIKE:
Wait!

ELLEN:
Wait, Jeffrey!

MIKE:
I’m not Jeffrey!

ELLEN:
Wait! Oh, Jeffrey. I’m done all my fighting, and it’s time to act. It’s time to end it all. Farewell!

MIKE:
Oh!

FARNSBY [on the phone]:
Hello? It’s for you.

MIKE [on the phone]:
Hello?

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

DAVY:
How’s the girl?

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

MIKE:
Oh, she’s fine. I, uh, kept her from jumping out the window, and stabbing herself, and, uh, taking poison.

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

DAVY:
Well, as long as it’s not serious—

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

DAVY (V.O.):
—you’d better get down here.

MIKE:
Why? What’s wrong?

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

MICKY:
Peter’s missing.

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

MIKE:
Missing? Did you look on the piano?

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

MICKY:
What did he say?

DAVY:
He said, “Did you look on the piano?”

MICKY:
There’s no piano here.

DAVY:
There’s no piano here.

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

MIKE:
Oh, well, then that’s why he’s missing.

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

DAVY:
He said th—

MICKY:
Piano?

DAVY:
It’s for you.

MICKY:
Oh. [on the phone] Hello?

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

ELLEN:
For my last wish, will you help me?

MIKE:
Oh, sure. You mean, you’re going to tie this to the chandelier, and then you’re gonna stand on the chair, and then you’re gonna, pwop, kick the chair out from under you.

ELLEN:
How’d you guess?

MIKE:
Well, I read a lot. Oh look, Ellen, let’s talk about this.

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

MICKY:
Peter?

DAVY:
Peter?

MICKY:
Peter? Peter?

DAVY:
Peter?

MICKY:
Peter?

DAVY, MICKY:
Ah!

MICKY:
Peter? Come out, come out, wherever you are.

DAVY:
Hey, do you think there’s been foul play?

MICKY:
I don’t know; I didn’t even see the game, a-ha ha. Peter? Peter?

DAVY:
Peter?

MICKY:
Peter?

DAVY:
Hey, Peter?

MICKY:
Peter? Hey!

DAVY:
What?

MICKY:
A red button.

DAVY:
A red button!

MICKY:
A red button. Shall I push it?

DAVY:
Push it! Push it! Push it! Is he alive?

MICKY:
Was he ever? Huh.

DAVY:
Peter?

MICKY:
Peter?

DAVY:
Peter?

MICKY:
Peter?

PETER:
Hm? Where am I?

MICKY:
You’re right here.

PETER:
Where’s here?

DAVY:
The answering service.

PETER:
Urgent Answering Service. Who’s calling?

DAVY:
Peter, it’s Micky and David.

PETER:
Davy and Micky? They’re not here. Can I take a message?

MICKY:
Peter, Peter! Wake up!

PETER:
Huh? Oh, hi guys. Hey, there was just a call for you.

MICKY:
Thanks.

DAVY:
Peter, what happened?

PETER:
I don’t know; I just pushed this red button.

MICKY:
Which red button?

PETER:
That one in there.

MICKY:
That one there?

DAVY:
The little one?

MICKY:
That red button over here? Woo! This red button over here?

PETER:
That’s right.

MICKY:
Peter? Peter?

DAVY:
Peter?

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

MIKE:
Now, look. I know things get kinda bleak sometimes, a-and it looks like the whole world is just running around in circles.

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

ELLEN:
It’s no use! People are cruel, and people are heartless. Oh, cruel world! Heartless world!

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

SPINK:
Alright now, keep your hands up high. Now, let’s talk turkey.

DAVY, MICKY, PETER:
Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble.

MICKY:
What’s this all about?

SPINK:
What’s this all about? Did you hear that, Arnold? Bright boy wants to know what this is all about.

ARNOLD:
Yeah, I heard.

SPINK:
It’s all about the ten G’s that was supposed to be placed on Popsicle in the third race at Belmont.

DAVY:
You mean you’ve been using this answering service for placing bets?

SPINK:
Oh, there’s another bright boy. This place is full of bright boys.

PETER:
Thank you!

ARNOLD:
You’re welcome.

MICKY:
What’s the beef? Didn’t the message get delivered?

SPINK:
Sure it did. But somehow or other, the ten thousand buck bet was switched from Popsicle to Pelican, and Popsicle won!

DAVY:
That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in me life. Why would anybody want to change a bet like that?

PETER:
Well, I thought, I didn’t know it was a, a racehorse, I thought it was a booking for a gig, and, and I gave it to The Pelicans ’cause I knew they needed the work.

MICKY:
You have a good heart, Pete.

SPINK:
Yeah? And I may stop it.

INT. FARNSBY APARTMENT

MIKE:
Promise me one thing.

ELLEN:
Anything, as long as it hurts.

MIKE:
Promise me you won’t do anything ’til tomorrow.

ELLEN:
I promise, I promise, I promise!

MIKE:
Okay, you promise, you promise, you promise.

ELLEN:
Oh, cruel world!

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

SPINK:
Because of you, bright boy, instead of me winning a hundred grand, I lose ten thousand. So, somebody in this room owes me ninety thousand bucks.

MICKY:
Oh!

DAVY:
Is that all you’re worried about? Oh, see that? We have money right here.

MICKY:
Sure, here, wait a minute.

DAVY:
…got here…

MICKY:
Seventy-seven. Uh, I figure about eight dollars and twelve cents.

PETER:
Two buttons; that ought to be worth a nickel.

DAVY:
Yeah, you’ll have to wait for the rest.

[The phone rings.]

SPINK:
Keep your hands up high! And no monkey business, if you’ll excuse the expression.

MICKY:
Ha ha, huh.

MIKE:
Excuse me, I have to get to the phone. Phone’s ringing. Excuse me. If you’ll just let me right through here between your two shoulders, I can just get right to the phone. Excuse me, please. Pardon me. Come on. Thank you.

ARNOLD:
You’re welcome.

MIKE:
The phone is ringing, guys. Can’t you hear? Urgent Answering Ser—oh, we missed her!

MICKY [whispering]:
Popsicle, Belmont, ninety thousand dollars.

MIKE:
Well, you win some and you lose some. I guess I’ll just—

SPINK:
Hold it, buddy.

MIKE:
Huh?

SPINK:
Where do you think you’re going?

MIKE:
Well, as a matter of fact, I was going to the dentist. I have this molar with a cavity at the very back. If you look close, you can see it.

SPINK:
It’s the old dentist bit.

ARNOLD:
Oh.

SPINK:
Get back there.

MR. SMITH:
Okay, you. I want to talk to you. Come over here. Explain to my wife that that was a mistake; you gave me the wrong message.

DAVY:
No, it wasn’t; it was the right message.

MRS. SMITH:
Oh, it’s true? Why you—

DAVY:
Wait, wait, wait, wait. Wait. These men here, they’re gamblers, and they’ve been using this place to place their bets.

MR. SMITH:
Gamblers?

SPINK:
No, no, no.

“Look Out (Here Comes Tomorrow)”

INT. URGENT ANSWERING SERVICE

DAVY:
Uh, Mrs. Smith?

MRS. SMITH:
Yes?

DAVY:
I really don’t think that message was for your husband; I think it was for another Mr. Smith on our service.

MRS. SMITH:
You sure?

DAVY:
I’m positive.

MRS. SMITH:
I always knew you were innocent, poopsie.

SPINK:
Officer.

MR. SMITH:
Thanks, boys.

MICKY:
It’s our pleasure, Mr. Poopsie.

MIKE:
Mr. Poopsie?

MICKY:
It was the man. Congratulations for a job well done.

Tag

MICKY:
Hey, what happened to that girl?

MIKE:
Oh, well, through my clever manipulation of her heartstrings and, uh, my masculinity and my persuasiveness, she—

DAVY:
Jumped out the window?

MIKE:
No, she promised she wouldn’t do anything until tomorrow.

PETER:
Then she jumps out the window.

DAVY:
You know, Mike? I think you were kind of hooked on that girl.

MIKE:
Well, how could I help it? I mean, she was so sad and weak and depressed and pathetic and poor. Oh, she was very, very poor.

ELLEN:
Darling!

MIKE:
Miss Farnsby!

ELLEN:
Oh, darling. Darling, darling, darling. I just had to come to thank you; I owe you so much.

MIKE:
Oh, well, you know, I don’t need anything really. I save girls’ lives every day. Just jump in the morning, do calisthenics, and save girls’ lives. That’s a part of my ritual.

ELLEN:
Saving my life? No, darling. I mean, helping me rehearse my part.

MIKE:
Your, your part?

ELLEN:
Yes, darling. A part in the play. I was brilliant. When my name is in lights, I’ll send you a free picture. Ta ta-ta.

MIKE:
Well, thank you.

DAVY:
Hey, hey, do you believe that? She was acting all the time.

MIKE:
Well, you know what I always say.

DAVY:
What?

MIKE:
Behind every dark cloud, there’s usually rain.

PETER:
Well, we got something to be thankful for anyway.

MICKY:
What’s that?

PETER:
Well, imagine what would have happened if we’d gotten involved with any of the clients.