Front Page Woman

Curt Devlin, Express.

Okay.

Hi, Curt.

I thought I left you in that bird cage

at the office.

What's a reporter without his cameraman?

He's happy.

I can get a swell picture...

I can put it up my sleeve...

The last time you did that

you got a lovely close-up of your elbow.

Now go away and hide someplace

and play hermit, will you?

Aw, Curt, have a heart.

I haven't missed one of these

clam bakes in years.

Well, this is one you'll miss.

Okay, okay, I hope when the dame

sits down they blow a fuse.

That's all I hope.

Hey, you better have one. You look pale.

I'm all right.

What's that on your forehead, dew?

Aw, shut up.

What time is it?

11:
35.

Well, if this isn't a nice way

to make a living.

You don't think this Gaye dame

will take on, do you?

Oh, probably. The last one I saw

screamed all the way to the chair.

That's what I heard about dames.

They always dramatize everything.

It would have been a good idea

if that dame had committed suicide

before she got to the dance hall.

Then we wouldn't have to watch it.

No such luck.

I don't know why they give me

such assignments. I always get sick.

Yeah? And I wish you'd stop eating

beforehand.

Never bothers me.

Well, it does me.

Hello, everybody. And how is everyone

on this festive occasion?

Hey, Devlin, did you bring a bottle?

Where've you been, Dev?

Haven't seen you for a long time.

I work for a living.

How are you, Devlin?

Well, I'm a dirty so-a-so.

That's what I always thought.

What are you doing here, Garfield?

Covering a story.

Oh, thanks.

Have a sandwich?

Not me. I've attended these things before.

You mean to say that Spike Kiley

handed you out this assignment.

Oh, I asked for it.

You asked for it?

Why not? It's a big story,

isn't it?

Look, tidbit,

electrocution is no place for you.

Well, I'm a reporter.

No, you're not.

You're just a sweet little kid

whose family allowed her

to read too many newspaper novels.

You make me so mad I could...

Well, I could...

Spit!

Go ahead.

You think you're cute, don't you?

You know, I'm surprised you don't talk

baby talk.

By the way,

I don't suppose you've been to any

of these high tension parties, have you?

Well, there's always a first time.

Yeah, but it always seems a little worse

when they burn a woman.

Why make an exception

because she's a woman?

Well, it could be a very interesting experience

for you.

Look, maybe I can give you

a rough idea of how it looks.

You know, just so you know how

to handle yourself.

Now, supposing this is the chair.

Over there are the witnesses,

that's us.

Then they slap you in the chair

like that, see?

Then they put the straps across here...

another here and another here.

Then another one across here tight.

Then they take a wide rubber band

and put it across your eyes.

Like that.

And another one across your mouth.

Then they take the electrode

and they slap it on your leg, like this.

Never mind the rehearsal.

I was only trying to give you a present.

That' s a swell way to do it.

Look, real gold and everything.

You pick out the most appropriate places

to get sentimental.

Now, listen, little Miss Front Page...

It's okay for you to shag fires

and ambulances.

But a burning is different.

It does something to you.

It chews you up inside.

Look at those guys.

They've seen it before,

and believe me, they're really tough.

Don't go through it, kid.

You don't have to.

I'll cover the story for you.

No, you won't. I was sent down here

to see it and I'm going to.

Come on, let me take you out of here.

No...

If you can take it, I can.

Oh, all right.

Well, I guess it's about time

for the slow music.

We can go in now, boys.

It's getting close.

I don't have to tell you the regulations.

You know them.

Remember, it's different this time.

Why couldn't they have given her life?

I wish they had.

Remember the last time we came

through here?

I couldn't sleep for a week.

You wanted to join the parade,

now keep in step.

Baby, don't go through it.

I'll cover for you.

No one will ever know.

Tough guy, eh?

Hi, Herb,

Hello, what's the trouble?

Did a maniac drive by here doing 80?

No, he didn't drive by, he drove in.

And he wasn't doing 80, he was doing 85

and he ain't no maniac,

he's Curt Devlin, which is worse.

Is he parked in there?

Yeah.

Good. Open up.

Hello, Burke.

Hi, Ned.

This is the car, all right.

Swallow that tune, sonny,

let's have your name.

Sure. Toots O'Grady, press.

Put it away.

Before you start writing I should mention

I don't own the car...

I wasn't driving and my hands

are too cold to sign anything.

Then how would you like to put your mittens on

and drive this fire wagon into the station house

where it's nice and warm?

The trouble with that is I haven't got

the keys.

In that case you can get out

and push it over to the station.

Now that we've had our little joke

you can write the ticket

and I'll be on my way.

You said it, Toots. Come on,

get back there and start pushing.

I thought you were playing.

Climb in front.

You drive and I whistle.

We haven't got all night now,

push him up.

Would you mind releasing the brake?

You think we should?

Sure, why not?

All way up, then.

Step on it. Shift her into high.

I've always wanted to travel this way.

No noise, no vibration, no nothing.

Goodbye, Barnes.

Have a nice time.

Where did you pick up the spare tire?

Lovely night for driving, isn't it?

Yes, step on it. Let's have a little speed.

Did I ever tell you the story about

my first wife?

No.

I'm lucky to have my motorcycle.

Hey, what's the matter here?

We've stopped.

What's the matter with that guy?

Hey, Toots.

He disappeared.

Look!

Hey, are you down there, Toots?

I don't know. It's too dark to tell.

You better come on out of there

or we'll come down after you.

Swell. Watch out for the first step,

it's 25 feet.

You mean you can't get out?

What do you think I am, a bird?

Boy, I wanna get out of here

and get some air.

I'm hot and dry all over.

Hey, you look pale as a ghost.

Hey, Mike.

Get this while it's hot.

Believe me, it's hot.

I gotta go right now, they're waiting.

Under my byline.

New York, written January 7th.

The lights of Broadway did not flicker.

But those of North Prison did as...

Mabel Gaye bravely sang her last finale.

With a song in her lips, Mabel Gaye,

Broadway's famous female Boniface

At midnight she...

Hey, Joe, take care of the kid,

will you?

Somebody get her some water.

Put her over on the bench

and get some water.

I don't know whether I can make this,

but here it goes. Are you ready?

I knew that daisy would wilt.

Never mind, I'll cover.

Pick up my stuff.

Be sure and tell the night desk to rewrite it,

otherwise we'll both have the same story.

Okay.

All right, let's go.

With a song on her lips, Mabel Gaye,

Broadway's famous female Boniface

walked to the electric chair last night

to expiate the murder of dapper

Rudy Spade.

As the auburn-haired beauty walked down

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