My Friend Irma Page #10

Steve, what did he do to your eye?

Jane, forget them two guys.

We got real trouble.

- What's the matter?

- Read it yourself.

"To whom it may concern:

I have ruined everybody's life...

"so now I am going to ruin my own.

"P.S. Please do not drag the river

for my body as I have hung myself.

"Guess who? Irma Peterson."

Al, this is terrible.

Well, don't just sit there. Call the police.

Only as the last resort. It isn't that

I've got anything against the police.

They're all right as far as they go.

Trouble is, every time they go...

they take some of my friends with them.

Now let's not blow our tops.

Al, we've got to do something.

If you don't care, I do.

If I don't care?

Jane, how can you say a thing like that?

Why, if anything happens to my Chicken,

I'll go crazy.

Lord, if you bring back my Irma,

I promise you...

I'll get a job.

What am I saying?

What am I saying?

Hello?

Janie, darling, take it easy.

After all, the police are doing all they can.

Irma, my wonderful little Irma.

Al, it's all your fault. You used to yell at her.

Don't pin no rap on me, Jane.

Your vocal cords got plenty of workout, too.

Yes, but I never meant it.

Never meant it, either.

Love Chicken. Love her dearly.

Just that she's so hard to understand.

You see, there's a thin line

between genius and insanity...

and the way that dame kept swinging back

and forth made a nervous wreck out of me.

But if could only see her again,

would never yell at...

- my Chicken no more.

- Maybe it's Irma.

- Hello.

- Oh, it's you.

Certainly, it's me. Hey, Steve...

- I came over to tell you we got fired.

- Fired?

Can't you work an orange juice stand

one night?

Well, not without you. Every time I had

to work the cash register, I hit five keys.

Shut up and sit down.

We have trouble here.

Irma committed suicide.

I wish I knew where she was, I'd join her.

I didn't mean nothing. It's just because

we got fired. I feel bad, too.

I can't do nothing now. Everything...

Well, ladies and gentlemen, we're about

to call the winner of the mammoth...

$50,000-gift contest.

There goes the giant wheel,

and someone will be the lucky winner.

Our telephone operator is waiting

to call the lucky winner, who is...

Mrs. Hilda Klotz of Keokuk, Iowa...

the mother of 32 children.

Al was right.

Hold it, folks. Mrs. Klotz is disqualified.

She has no phone.

And there goes the wheel again,

and the call goes to...

Miss Irma Peterson

of 185 West 73rd Street, New York.

I'll be right there.

The orchestra will play a short number

while our operator calls her home.

Taxi! Taxi!

Maybe it's the police. Hello, what?

- Irma Peterson?

- They found her.

My wonderful Chicken,

cannot wait to see her.

Shut up, Al. What are you saying?

You're trying to locate Irma Peterson?

Yes, I know.

Isn't this the police? I don't understand.

What?

What's the name of what song?

The Lucky Jackpot Program?

How do you like that?

They're calling Chicken from the contest...

and she has to pick a moment like this

to knock herself off.

That dame never has no consideration.

- Hello, I'm sorry...

- Jane, look.

Tell them you're Irma Peterson.

Don't be ridiculous. I'm going to hang up.

Never, not with $50,000 at stake.

Hello, I'm Irma Peterson.

What's that? Well, I'm a very old woman.

I have a heavy cold.

You want to know the name of the song

and who's singing it?

Just a moment.

Anybody ever hear that program?

Al, you mercenary monster, hang up.

Would you mind repeating the question,

please?

Well,

the name of the song you're playing is...

Don't rush me, young man.

Irma, darling.

- Buttons and Bows.

- It's Buttons and Bows. What?

Who's singing it?

Chicken, speak to me. It's your Al.

If you love me,

tell them who's singing the song.

Bing Crosby.

Chicken, we won! We won! We won!

Let me see now.

One of the airplanes, we can sell to Joe

for smuggling purposes.

As for the armored car,

Mushie has always wanted one.

Must make a fortune on this deal.

Ladies and gentleman, you can't imagine

the most incredible display of gifts.

This apartment is in a turmoil

and still the gifts keep coming in.

Here is an oxygen outfit.

A new tire, oil, another tire.

Excuse me, horsy.

Irma, honey, what's the matter?

Jane, save me. It's an octopus.

- It's a diving suit.

- Is it?

Will you please get dressed?

We've got to get to the church.

Where do you want me to put this, lady?

Nothing else goes in here.

Everything goes in the other room.

Now, will you please get out. You, too,

all of you. Come on out of there.

But I haven't finished my drapes.

I'm not interested in your drapes.

Just get out.

Well, for heaven's sakes.

Irma, please hurry.

Don't worry about me.

I'll be a bride before you can say "boo."

I'm so nervous.

Well, while we're waiting,

we can have a short rehearsal.

- Without girls?

- It's quite simple.

The best men can act as substitutes

for the wives.

Yes, now, please take

your husbands' arms, ladies.

There, that's right.

And follow me to the altar.

Happy, Jane?

More than you'll ever know, Steve, darling.

- This way, Chicken.

- Yes, Al, honey.

Let's try the phone again.

Just think, honey, in five minutes,

I'll be Mrs. Steve Laird.

And, after five years, I'll be Mrs. Al...

Oh, I'm so nervous.

Don't worry, honey,

nothing can happen to us now.

I was wrong.

Anything can happen

if you live with my friend Irma.

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