Here Comes the Groom Page #9

That's really wonderful.

Good. You won't mind putting

in a pitch for me.

- Don't step on my dress!

- I can't stay off. I'd have to leave town.

Will you put in a little pitch for me?

Tell her some of my lovable features.

Don't hang around too close,

don't cramp my style.

I don't believe a word you're saying,

and when you get that milk-lapping

expression on your face,

you just scare me to death.

Now, there you go.

You see, Emmy? You barge.

- Help me up!

- You mustn't barge.

If you're gonna be a Stanley,

learn to walk like one.

You ever seen Winifred Stanley?

She just floats along.

- Help me up!

- And do something about that temper.

You must curb it. You and I got

a pretty good thing here.

If you explode,

you'll kick it in the chops.

- Help me up!

- If we play our cards right,

we could wind up being

sister-in-laws.

It's a little too much to expect

from the daughter of a mackerel man.

UP We go.

My pipe from Paris.

- You're out.

- What's the matter? I was safe.

- What're you trying? I was safe.

- You're out.

Now, get up to the house

before Ma catches you!

- And as for you, you collaborator.

- Now, Emmy, I'm on your side.

I've got a million reasons

to marry Wilbur Stanley.

- Half a million that I know of.

- Well, the biggest reason is you!

Would you like to cover

the Stanley wedding,

or should I give the assignment

to somebody else?

There's not gonna be any

Stanley wedding. I know my Em.

Right now, she's like

a little bucking bronco,

fixing to rear, tear, kick and plunge

all over the place.

If I can just find the right burr,

slip it under her saddle,

oh, man, she'd kick down every fence

in this $40 million corral.

Well, I'm watching this blond,

Winifred, last night,

casing her real close,

her and her cousin, Wilbur.

And all of a sudden, I get that "poing".

The "poing" I get when I sense a story.

- You haven't had a "poing" for years.

- Never you mind, it's infallible.

Anyhow, I see there's something

between her and Wilbur,

or there has been,

or there could be.

Now, if I could just make

her acquaintance.

I beg your pardon.

Why, Miss Stanley!

Well, "Walk into my parlor",

said the spider.

- What happened to you?

- No idea, I think it was a tidal wave.

Well, here. Come over by the fire.

Let me get the gas turned up a little.

George, this is Cousin Wilbur's

cousin, Winifred.

- With your luck, it would have to be.

- Get out of that wet coat.

We'll get you into some dry clothes,

get this stuff wrung out.

There you are. Wait till I get some

towels. Get over by the fire there.

- Wilbur, you do love me, don't you?

- Oh, darling.

Then let's get married tonight,

right away.

But it's four days until Saturday. I don't

wanna wait, anything can happen.

I don't want to wait either. But after all,

a Stanley just can't get married,

- like other people, at the drop of a hat.

- Why not? ls there a law against it?

Certainly, for people like us.

Laws of tradition.

Laws of what's expected of you.

The wedding invitations

have gone out to 500 people.

There's more relatives on the way,

newsreels, television.

- I know. just...

- Just what, Emmadel?

Wilbur. Remember my telling you

about an idiot I grew up with?

- I was ten and thought I was in love?

- The newspaperman.

He's here. But you don't know he's

the thing you dragged out of the rain.

Sure, I know.

- You do?

- I do.

Why did you bring him if you knew?

I had to be absolutely sure

you wanted me.

- But you don't think I want him?

- Well, I hope not.

I should say not.

He makes me absolutely ill.

And I want you to go down there

and throw him out on his ear.

Oh, darling. Thanks.

- But I can't.

- Why not?

A little thing called

a gentleman's agreement.

Wilbur, you don't understand.

Pete Garvey is no gentleman,

and I don't want him around here.

Why not, darling? You scared?

Scared? Of him?

Well, I say!

He thinks if he hangs around he can

bust up our wedding. Can he?

- Did he say that?

- He said that.

Don't you dare throw him out of here.

Don't you dare throw him out of here!

Wilbur, do me a favor. Ask him to sing

at our wedding. He thinks he can sing.

Nothing would give greater pleasure

than to marry you if he has to sing to it.

Ooh, am I gonna make it!

I'll quit barging. I won't lose my temper

no matter what.

And I'm going to learn

how to be a lady, come...

...well, come high water.

And I'm gonna marry you.

I beg your pardon, Mr. Stanley,

but did you ask to see a Mr. Cusick...

Oh, yes, Baines. Thank you.

Mr. Cusick. Ask him...

- Ask him to wait outside.

- Yes, sir.

I'm gonna marry you if it's

the last thing I do on this earth.

And I'm gonna get out of this

because I look like Halloween.

- Please, Mr. Garvey.

- Pete.

Pete, they called me, when I was

towel boy at the Turkish bath.

- This is embarrassing.

- Embarrassing?

You mean with George?

We've shared everything since

we were this high, haven't we?

That we have. We never shared

anything like this, however.

- Well, I can imagine how I look...

- You look beautiful.

You look better wet than you do

the other way. It brings out your...

Your personality. Cousin Wilbur

ever see you soaking wet?

- Cousin Wilbur? No, why?

- Yeah.

You see, that's too bad.

Little things might change

the course of history.

And you shouldn't call him Cousin

Wilbur. It reminds him of things.

- Reminds him of what things?

- That you're both Stanleys.

I'll bet that's been a problem through

your entire life. Being a Stanley?

- How did you know that?

- George.

"Poing!" Are you listening?

Cousin Wilbur ever tell you

how beautiful you are?

- Me?

- Yeah.

I see he hasn't.

It's all your own fault too,

because you are beautiful,

a perfect knockout.

It would take the eye of an artiste

to detect it

through that camouflage

you're wrapped in.

And Wilbur's no artiste,

I'll tell you that.

Definitely not a... He's...

He's...

- Say, let me see you up on your toes.

- My toes?

Up, up. Come on.

Up, up, up-

Wow.

- George.

- Hold the phone, Esther.

- What's the matter?

- Doesn't it make a difference?

- That changes legs into gams.

- There you are, you see?

- Gams?

- Why do you wear track shoes?

- Running the anchor lap in the relay?

- I'm too tall, if you must know.

- Too tall? Did you hear that, George?

- Too tall for what?

Too tall. How ridiculous can you be?

You ever hear of a squatty goddess?

Was Cleopatra a shorty?

Was Mata Hari a shrimp?

Was Venus de Milo a midget?

No, of course not.

Why, they were all first basemen

like you.

Tell McCarthy I want a feature story

on tall women.

Low heels indeed.

And Helen of Troy. Was it her face

that launched those thousand ships?

No, of course not.

High heels. Gams.

Slip out of those things, we'll launch

Cousin Wilbur in the morning.

You know, Miss Stanley, men seldom

make passes at flat-heeled lasses.

- George, that's beautifully put.

- What?

Yes, I thought so. Did you get that,

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