Babes on Broadway Page #4

Don't let him burn.

Please, please, warden, please.

Mr. Reed, I have some clippings here.

This is Maxine when she was a little girl...

Mason, Mason.

Maybe we ought to change our name

to the Three Puffs of Smoke.

Private audition.

How do you like her, giving us that?

It's not her fault.

It's those producers. They're all the same.

Just send out nonchalantly for 1000 actors

every time they get lonesome.

Well, I guess we're cooked, fellas.

Yep, on both sides.

What do we do now, Tom?

I've been pedaling that hocus-pocus

about talent and ambition.

They don't want talent. They wouldn't know

talent if it was wrapped up in the mailbox.

I guess it's back to the bulrushes.

Maybe I don't belong in show business.

I don't know.

It's all right, I'll do something else. Drive

a truck, dig ditches, sell shoes, anything.

Take it easy, Tommy.

You know you're not serious.

We'll be back

making the rounds again tomorrow.

- Something will turn up.

- Not me, brother.

What are you trying to do,

split up the axis?

How long you gonna go

through life singing?

How long are you gonna

keep yourself in hock to producers?

Until you become a producer yourself.

Until you become a producer yourself.

That's very funny.

Until you become a producer yourself.

Sure. Why not?

There's nothing magic to it.

All you need is a little courage,

taste, money.

Yeah, and we're loaded

with courage and taste.

We've got lots of talent.

So why don't we sign ourselves up?

Four months ago, when we came to this

city, we devoted our lives to the theater.

Here comes the Gettysburg Address.

We got the brush

from the New York producers.

Living or dead.

We've got a satchel full of talent

and no place to display it.

So we'll build our own showcase.

- Have you forgotten about money?

- Or are you planning to win a raffle?

Money? Well, anybody can

put on a show with money.

Let's not be corny about this thing.

Oh, certainly, can't be corny,

so let's forget about money.

What do we use instead?

Well, anything. We can use...

Well, you know... like a... a cause.

- A what?

- A what?

A cause.

A great, big beautiful cause.

Something that'll tug at their heartstrings...

...make them dig down in their jeans

and bring tears to their eyes.

You better stop eating that salami.

Don't you realize that America

is cause-crazy?

Why, they give shows for everybody.

China, the Red Cross, Bundles for Britain.

There must be some place

they haven't thought of.

Right here.

Now you're talking.

How about a cause for eatless actors?

Actors? No, nobody cares about actors.

It's gotta be something solid.

- Like widows, orphans, dogs.

- How about mailmen or motormen?

- No, no, glamour.

- How about ball players?

They've all got chicken farms.

- Hey, I got it. I got it.

- Well, what is it?

How about chorus girls?

Well, how about them?

I'm sorry, Hammy.

I guess I'm just blowing bubbles again.

If only I hadn't written

that big buildup to Mom...

...promised the city hall to everybody.

Hey, where are you going?

I'm gonna get a little air. I'm a little flat.

What's your claim?

Look, look,

things can't be as bad as all that.

You don't know what happened.

Something awful happened to me,

but I'm not crying, look.

You're a boy.

You know, you cry awfully pretty.

- I do?

- Sure, you cry beautifully.

Why, if I thought I looked that pretty,

I'd be crying my eyes out all the time.

You know what?

I'm gonna make you my official crier.

Well, and as soon as things get tough...

...why, I'll give you the signal

and you can turn it on.

Why, everybody can cry

if they're unhappy themselves.

It's not me so much. I've seen it.

But some of the other kids,

they never even been there.

- And those old trustees...

- The who?

The Board of Trustees.

They promised we were going to the country

for two whole weeks.

And now they tell us

they can't give us the money.

Well, don't you worry about it.

You're still young.

You have lots of time to go to the...

Hey, what did you say?

We were gonna see cows and brooks

and milk them and everything.

You mean, they backed out on you?

Why, I've never heard of such a thing.

Why, how dare they do that?

- Come on, we'll go see about it right now.

- See about what?

These kids have never seen the sunlight,

babbling brooks, blade of grass...

...a bluebird flitting from tree to tree.

What has happened to the milk

of human kindness? Where is he?

- Where's who?

- The whatchamacallit, the number one guy.

- The superintendent? He's inside.

- That's our man.

Why, the idea of these people,

these children...

So all you have to do is give us the word

and we're ready to go.

I like your enthusiasm.

I'm afraid it's a much bigger job

than you imagine.

No, it isn't.

You see, Tommy's a professional.

Yes, I know, but where are you

going to get all the talent?

Talent?

Why, the world is riddled with talent.

You can shake it out of trees.

It's right here.

This girl right here, she's

the greatest singer of songs I ever heard.

You've got the greatest crying act

in show business.

And as for myself, well...

And if that isn't enough, I can

walk into a drugstore on 44th street...

...throw a rock, hit more talent

than on any Broadway show.

Well, that takes care of the talent.

Now, where do you propose

putting this show on?

In the auditorium?

They couldn't seat over

100 people there.

No, this has gotta be big.

This isn't gonna be any amateur night.

It's gotta be gigantic.

Like the World Series or the Aquacade.

This is Rose Bowl stuff.

Why, it looks as if

you'll need a whole city block.

Yeah.

City block. Yeah. Sure, that's it.

Right in the neighborhood.

We'll rope it off.

Everybody will come to it.

We give them a sample, then pass the hat.

With the money we take, we'll hire the hall.

Put on a show for half a buck

that'll send those kids to the country.

Well, I must admit

you have a wonderful platform.

- Couldn't we, Mr. Stone?

- Please, please?

Well, in the face of all this enthusiasm,

what can I say?

But I'm not guaranteeing

that Mr. Busch will be swept off his feet.

Mr. Busch? Who's Mr. Busch?

The district leader. He's the only one

who can give you a permit for a block party.

- Tough customer?

- A very tough customer.

Come on, we'll go there, see if we

can cut him down to our size. Bye.

- Thank you.

- That's quite all right.

So here's this character sitting there,

Simon J. Busch.

Typical ward heeler.

Heater sticking out the side of his mouth,

big black derby with heart to match.

So I go to work on him. I say:

"Mr. Busch, if you donate this city block,

it'll send you to Congress. "

He keeps on smoking.

I try to appeal to his sense of chivalry.

He can't even spell it.

I talk to him about his school days.

He never went.

Things are desperate

and Barbara Jo was crying so hard...

...she looks like a road show edition

of the Johnstown flood.

So I slide right into the theme song.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes