Front Page Woman Page #2

the last mile

Okay, Burt, take it out.

...and the body of the once vibrant toast

of the main stand

will be taken today for interment

in the family plot

in the little town from where she came,

Smithsville, Ohio.

Ended.

Add this to the night desk.

Mike Conley, keep this under your hat,

Garfield fainted and I covered.

Give her a break, Curt.

Okay.

I feel all right.

Thanks.

It's okay, baby,

I covered the story for you.

But...

Don't worry, I took care of you.

Thanks, Curt.

I know how you feel. Come on.

Mabel Gaye died singing.

Not bad. That gal may make

a newspaperman yet.

Yeah, she may grow a full beard,

but that ain't likely either.

Here's The Express. Final

Mabel Gaye dies singing.

That's a hot one.

Well, for the...

Do you see what I see?

If you see the same story

word for word in both papers, I do.

Get circulation and transportation.

Hello, Press Room? Kiley talking,

hold your run, we're replating page one.

Wait a minute.

Circulation? Kiley, hold the guys.

Transportation? Hold back your trucks.

What?

All right, get back what you can.

Three trucks got away already.

You know, this bit of female journalism

is liable to land yourself on a cartoon magazine.

You use the AP for the replates

and get a sub for the new run.

Sorry, chief, this came in with

Garfield's stuff. I just found it again.

Get the telegraph out.

Spike, under your hat, Garfield fainted,

I covered, give her a break, Curt.

Oh... I've been here 17 years but I knew

it wasn't gonna be permanent.

Hey, is he quitting?

What do you care?

You ain't working here anymore.

AP?

Oh, thanks.

Kind of afraid around the edges, huh?

Hm-hmm.

If you were I would you ask me

if I loved you?

Hm-hmm.

Well, do you, sort of?

Not sort of, lots of.

Would you pucker up

and kiss a guy on account of?

Hm-hmm.

Just because of.

I know a guy that's married.

He likes it.

What does his wife think about it?

Well, she wishes he were twins

so she could commit bigamy...

and be twice as happy.

Look, Curt, what do you think

it would be like?

Heaven, with all the modern conveniences.

Gee, Ellen, why not?

This business of being in newspapers

won't do. That's kids' stuff.

You don't have to work.

No, but...

I want to prove I can be

as good a reporter as...

Now, look. We can get one of those

studio apartments with a fireplace and...

what else would you want?

Are you listening to me?

I was just worrying about that story.

Don't worry about that. It'll be out

on the street by the time we reach town.

Don't interrupt me like that again.

Now where were we?

Read about it. Electrocuted girl.

Extra. Morning edition...

Hey, boy, two of each.

Showgirl electrocuted.!

Read all about it!

Girl dies singing!

Mabel Gaye dies singing.

Mabel Gaye dies singing.

So you covered me.

That fathead, Kiley.

Hey, where are you going?

So, you double-crossed me.

What do you mean, double-crossed?

I tried to cover you.

Wait a minute.

This isn't gonna do me any good either,

you know.

Hey, how are you gonna get home?

The subway's still running.

Not to where you can go,

as fas as I'm concerned.

Nice story, Garfield, both of them.

Good morning to you.

Lovely work, sister.

You sure did a swell job with that one.

You and that Express guy

got a one track mind.

Hello.

I'd hoped you'd ended it all.

Did I get you into terrible trouble,

Spike?

What Mr Johns said to me

would make mule skinner's conversation

with a factious beast

sound like a baby's prayer at twilight.

Oh, I'm awful sorry, Spike.

You only started being sorry.

Mr Johns wants to see you.

Well, in every life some rain must fall.

You're a cloudburst around this office.

Come on.

Do you mind telling me just how it happened

that you and Curt Devlin

had the same story word for word?

What was it, a coincidence?

Hey, Devlin, Mr Hartnett wants to see you.

Funny, I had that feeling all morning.

And now, buttercup,

do you mind telling me what this beautiful thing

is that's comes into your life

and turns you into the Little St Francis

of the press?

Well, I just wanted to give the belle

a break.

And while you're giving her a break

you give our circulation a compound fracture.

It's getting so in use it gets into the Encyclopedia Britannica before we get it.

All right, I said I was sorry

and I'm not gonna get my eyes all red

crying about it.

So, what do I do?

Go to work for The Star?

That wouldn't be any change for you.

You're working for The Star half the time anyway,

covering up that sop sister.

If you just look on your paycheck,

you'll discover that The Express

is paying you your salary.

Oh, yeah, which reminds me.

I was thinking about getting married

and I thought a raise...

A raise?

Maybe we better talk about it

after the ceremony.

A raise.

Hello.

Where have you been?

In the sewer.

What?

In a sewer.

What were you doing in a sewer?

Nothing very constructive.

Just keeping the rats company.

Listen, Toots.

Of all the places for a man to kill time,

such as the movies, the aquarium

and the library, you pick a sewer.

It's very indicative of your character.

I knew you'd feel that way about it,

Curt,

but it's just one of those things

a man falls into.

Think I'd better get home and take a bath.

There's been threats.

From whom?

The Board of Health.

It's a racket, I tell you.

You can't make more than $70

unless you're an editor

You know where the big dough goes,

don't you?

It's a swell story, you see what happens...

Hello.

Imagine a picture like that...

You know my soft focus lens.

And where do they put it?

At the bottom of the Sunday ads section.

And that's where it should be...

Hi, Devlin.

Hiya, Nell.

How's yourself? Toss you for a drink.

Okay, tails.

Two bourbons.

Two bourbons.

What'll your small boy have?

He can have mine.

See you later, you ol' darling, you.

Here you are, Miss.

Wrap mine up for me, will you?

Here, sonny, don't forget your drink.

Don't go away.

Here's mud in your eye.

Make it beauty clay, you need it.

Same thing, Jill.

Hello, Garfield.

I thought by this time you'd be out

of the newspaper business

and taking a course in Domestic Science.

Curt, I found out that you really did

try to cover me last night.

You did, huh?

I'm sorry.

I should have believed you, I know.

Do you think I'm...

well, do you think I'm sort of a rat?

No, just a little mousy.

Did you get fired?

No, but I got a piece of Mr Johns' mind.

And I might tell you, it wasn't any present

a gentleman should give a lady.

What about you?

Oh, my boss was quite pleasant,

all he said was that he'd appreciate it very much

if I would arrange a suicide pact with you.

I guess we're in the doghouse, all right.

Don't worry about it.

I've been in the doghouse so long

I'm commencing to bark at strangers.

I'm not worried about you,

I'm worried about myself, my job.

In two weeks you'll be back covering

the Dahlia Show.

Are you going to start that again?

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