By the Light of the Silvery Moon Page #3

given to fits of tears and despair.

It's the happiest time in a woman's life.

- get him!

- Wesley!

- It's only Gregory.

- Gregory?

You've been told to stop running the flesh

off of that turkey!

It's a good thing tomorrow

is Thanksgiving.

There'd be nothing left but feathers.

For the last time,

that turkey does not belong in the house.

If he's good enough to be on the table,

he's good enough to walk around it.

George, I'm afraid this is another crisis.

Wesley has become very attached

to our Thanksgiving dinner.

So it seems.

I think I'll send him to the movies

this afternoon,

and while he's gone I'll take

the turkey to the butcher to be prepared.

No, Alice. I don't believe

in sparing the boy with deceit.

When he does find out,

he'll only resent being tricked.

Wesley can take the turkey to the butcher.

- It's part of his growing up.

- Oh, but, George...

After all, it's my duty as a father

to make Wesley understand

that sentiment has its proper place.

Fish and fowl and most animals

are mainly created

for the sustenance of mankind.

A turkey is a turkey

and meant to be eaten.

- And you tell him that, Alice.

- George Winfield.

All right, I'll tell him.

I'll get it, Mother!

- Good morning, Marjorie.

- Good morning, Chester.

I realize it's rather early to be calling,

but ever since I heard the good news,

I could hardly wait to see you.

What news?

Well, some people who were at the dance

last night told me about you and Bill.

The postponement.

Really, Chester,

aren't you jumping to conclusions?

Well. Nevertheless,

it's all the encouragement I needed.

Look, I've written a song.

I've taken everything I ever felt

in my heart for you

and set it to music.

Wait till you hear it!

- Chester, isn't it kind of early?

- Not for me. I've been up all night.

Be my little baby bumblebee

Bring home all the honey, love, to me

Let me spend the...

Excuse me, Chester.

- Morning, Marjorie.

- Good morning, William.

I've been thinking about

our silly little quarrel last night,

and, well, I feel an apology is in order.

- Well, I should say it is.

- Well, go ahead and apologize.

Me?

Well, you called me an old fuddy-duddy.

I'm certainly not old,

and I'm neither a fuddy nor a duddy.

Now am I?

William, honestly.

- Who's that?

- It's Chester.

- He's been up all night.

- Here?

Of course not, silly. He's been working.

He's written a song.

Chester, would you play your song again?

Chester!

- I'd like to sing it now.

- Oh, of course.

- Marjorie...

- Chester, play your song.

Be my little baby bumblebee

Buzz around, buzz around

keep a-buzzin'round

Bring home all the honey, love, to me

Little bee, little bee, little bumblebee

Let me spend the happy hours

Roving with you 'mongst the flowers

And when we get

where no one else can see

Cuddle up, cuddle up, come and cuddle up

Be my little baby bumblebee

Buzz around, buzz around

keep a-buzzin'round

- We'll be just as happy as can be

- Happy as can be

You and me, you and me, you and me

Honey, keep a-buzzin'please

I've got a dozen buzzin'bees

But I want you

To be my baby bumblebee

Buzz, buzz.

- Chester, you know Bill?

- Good morning, Chester.

Yes, we've met.

Say, that's a wonderful song.

I wondered if you'd do me a favor

and play it again?

- Oh, won't you, Chester?

- Oh, yes.

Be my little baby bumblebee

Buzz around, buzz around

keep a-buzzin'round

Bring home all the honey love to me

- Little bee, little bee, little bumblebee

- Little bee, little bee, little bumblebee

Let me spend the happy hours

Roving with you 'mongst the flowers

And when we get where no one else

can see...

Cuddle up, cuddle up

Come and cuddle up

- We're forgetting Chester.

- That's a good idea.

- Chester, are you leaving?

- I'm not made of wood.

He's not?

- Oh, Wesley.

- Yes, sir?

- How would you like to earn $1?

- A dollar!

- Yes, I'd like you to run an errand for me.

- Can I take Gregory with me?

Yes, you can take Gregory with you.

I want you to go into town.

Sounds like a pretty long walk

for a turkey.

But if he gets tired,

I guess I can carry him back.

- Yes, you can carry Gregory back.

- Where do you want me to go, Pop?

- Wesley, you remember Grandpa?

- Yes, sir.

He was with us a long time,

and then he went away.

Son, we all have to go sometime.

Wesley, I've always tried

to be a good father.

You're not going anywhere, are you, Pop?

No.

But tomorrow is Thanksgiving and... And...

You want Gregorys head chopped off

and his insides taken out

so you can eat him, don't you?

Now, please, Wesley,

you're making this very difficult.

Now you know perfectly well that

all your little chums and their families

all get turkeys

and fatten them for Thanksgiving.

Why, we even picked Gregory

because you said

he had the biggest drumsticks.

I bet he'd be good and fat

by next Thanksgiving.

- Please, Wesley.

- I'll bet we'd have the biggest,

fattest turkey in the whole country!

Now, we'll have no more talk.

I intend to be firm.

Yes, sir.

Now, you take that turkey to Mr. Schultz,

and you tell Mr. Schultz to...

- To...

- Yes, sir?

Now, you know perfectly well

what to tell him.

You couldn't have phrased it

more descriptively.

Wesley, some day, when you're a father,

you'll understand these things.

I'm never gonna be a father. I hate fathers.

At the moment,

I have no great love for them myself.

Come on, Max.

- Hey, Wesley, want to play with me?

- No, Pee Wee. I'm busy.

- And besides, you're too little.

- Can I play with Max?

- No.

- I'm bigger than him.

- Max has to go with me.

- Why?

'Cause tomorrow is Thanksgiving.

I'm taking him with me to Mr. Schultz,

the butcher.

- We're having turkey.

- So are we, stupid.

- Our turkey is all ready to cook.

- Go home, Pee Wee.

He's outside in our storeroom.

Want to see him?

No, Pee Wee, I...

Your turkey is outside in your storeroom?

- Yeah, want to see him?

- No, but...

- You want me to let you play with Max?

- Yeah.

Come here, Max. Here.

But you got to keep him in here

and stay here with him till I get back.

- Lf he tries to get out, I'll bite him.

- Good boy, Pee Wee.

Here are the signatures

on that Foley Lumber Mill loan.

The final escrow papers

on the Jackson deal.

And here's a letter from Indianapolis.

Some theatrical company would like

to rent the Grand Street opera house.

Good. We haven't realized a cent

from that theater

since we were appointed trustees.

That's true,

but since the church owns that property,

it's our obligation to investigate the show

and see if it's morally fit for Milburn.

This was enclosed in the letter.

Well, who says banking is a dull business?

Yes, well,

perhaps we'd better investigate this.

When Miss La Rue arrives in town,

I'll discuss the play with her

- before granting a lease on the theater.

- Fine.

- Hello?

- Hello, John.

- Oh, Emily.

- Somebody stole our turkey.

- Somebody what?

- Stole our turkey.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes