The Man Who Came to Dinner Page #3

- If you don't like him, get off the paper.

- But I think it's good.

William Allen White could've

left Emporia, but he didn't.

You have the effrontery to compare

yourself with William Allen White?

Only in the sense that White

stayed in Emporia.

I'd like to stay and say what I want.

- Such as what?

- I can't put it into words, Mr. Whiteside.

It would sound like

an awful lot of hooey.

The Journal was my father's paper.

It's kind of a sentimental point with me.

I'd like to carry on where he left off.

- So you own this paper.

- That's right.

This terrifying editor, this dread

journalistic Armageddon, is you?

- In a word, yes.

- I see.

Sherry, the next time

you do not want to see anybody...

...just let me know,

and I'll usher them right in.

Young man, come over here.

I suppose you have written

that great American novel?

No, I've written

that great American play.

Well, I don't wanna read it.

Do these old eyes of mine

see a box of goodies over there?

Hand them to me, will you?

The trouble is

that your being in this town...

...comes under the heading of news,

so I just gotta get a story.

Pecan butternut fudge.

Oh, my. You mustn't eat candy,

Mr. Whiteside. It's very bad for you.

My Great-Aunt Jennifer ate a whole box

of candy every day of her life.

She lived to be 102,

and when she'd been dead three days...

...she looked better than you do now.

Now you've won me with your

pretty way, have a piece of candy.

- Thanks.

- I'll grant you a one-minute interview.

What do you wanna know?

How do you think Ohio women

stack up against...?

Well, I've never gone in for stacking up

women, so I really can't say.

What do you think of Mesalia? How long

you gonna be here? Where you going?

Oh, very well. A, Mesalia

is a town of irresistible charm.

B, I cannot wait to get out of it.

C, I'm going from here to Crockfield...

...for my semiannual visit to

the Home for Paroled Convicts...

...for which I have raised

half a million dollars the past five years.

Filched from the pockets of an

all-too-gullible and long-suffering public.

- Will you sign here?

- This aging debutante, Mr. Jefferson...

...I retain in my employ only because

she is the sole support...

...of her two-headed brother.

Thank you.

- Do you play gin rummy?

- I sure do.

Fine. How much can you lose?

- I generally win.

- We won't discuss that.

Come back at 8:
30. We'll play

three-handed with Elsie Dinsmore.

By the way, you owe me a dollar.

- What for?

- At the station, the dollar you borrowed.

You pay a healthier income tax

than I do. Give.

Maggie, make out a check

for this miserable moneychanger.

Make the check out to Bertram H.

- That must be my luncheon guests.

- I beg your pardon?

Just a few murderers from the Crockfield

Home at the state penitentiary.

The fact that Mr. Whiteside

happens to be...

...the nation's foremost authority

on murders and murder trials...

...forms a bond between them.

By the way, Jefferson,

how about staying for lunch?

Oh, glad to.

That will cost you a dollar.

There will be one more,

please, Maggie.

- Mr. Whiteside at home?

- Yeah.

We're here for lunch.

Come right in, gentlemen.

- You're Mr. Whiteside?

- That's right.

- Line up there, boys.

- Good morning.

- Hi.

- Jefferson...

...these lads formed a Sheridan

Whiteside club at the penitentiary.

They listen to every one

of my broadcasts.

I arranged with the warden

to have them come for luncheon.

You're Michaelson, aren't you?

Did the drainpipe murders?

- Yes, sir.

- Thought I recognized you.

The one on this end, Jefferson,

is Haggerty, the hatchet fiend.

Always chopped them up

in a salad bowl, remember?

- How do you do?

- Hi.

- Lunch is ready.

- Good, we'll go right in.

- Can I help you?

- Yes, thank you.

- After you.

- All right, boys.

We're having chicken livers tetrazzini

and cherries jubilee for dessert.

- What? No salad bowl, Mr. Whiteside?

- No, Haggerty.

I do not wish to place temptation

in your path.

I hope every little tummy is aflutter

with gastric juices.

Close the doors, John.

We don't want a lot of people...

...prying on their betters.

- Yes, sir.

Hello, Mr. Stanley. Would you sign?

- What is it?

- We're not quite sure.

It's for Mr. Whiteside

from a William Beebe.

William Beebe?

Why, he's the great naturalist.

- Good heavens. It's an octopus!

- That's it.

I knew there was a "pus"

in the name somewheres.

When you return to

the University of Canton...

...I want you to take a message for me

to Professor Chung-Wong Lu.

- We went to Hamilton together.

- Mr. Whiteside!

Sit down, gentlemen.

This isn't anybody.

- There's an octopus at the door.

- Good. Bring him in.

Now I'll have somebody intelligent

to talk to in the evenings.

Mr. Whiteside, I warn you, I will not

have that monster in my house.

Well, there's always a motel for you

if you're finicky.

Right in here.

- A little playmate for you, Mr. Whiteside.

- Good. Put it right down here.

My, what a charming little creature.

- Mr. Stanley, what's your first name?

- Ernest. Why?

Boys, take Ernest down to the basement,

will you please?

What? Mr. Whiteside, there is a limit.

- I warn you, I'm a patient man, but...

- Dinner is served, Mr. Whiteside.

Daisy, where is that

bicarbonate of soda?

Daisy, this is the end.

I've stood all I'm going to stand.

- Where's that telephone bill?

- Now, Ernest, please listen to me.

John, tell Sarah the lobster Newburg

is absolutely superb.

- Yes, Mr. Whiteside. Thank you.

- Mr. Whiteside, I wanna talk to you.

- I've stood all I'm going to stand.

- Ignore the interruption.

The past 10 days, we haven't

called our souls our own.

We haven't had a meal

in this room once.

I came home last week and found

convicts sitting at my dinner table.

- Drainpipe murderers. And now...

- Now, Ernest...

Please. I go into my bathroom

and bump into two more.

I won't stand for it,

no matter who you are.

- Have you quite finished?

- No, sir, I have not.

This bill from the telephone company

for $ 784.

Oklahoma City, Rome, Calcutta,

Hollywood, Buenos Aries...

...New York, New York, New York.

- But, Ernest...

- Leave me alone.

Mr. Whiteside, I want you to leave

this house as soon as you can...

...and go to a hotel.

Stop pawing me, Daisy!

That's all I have to say to you,

Mr. Whiteside.

And quite enough, I should say.

If you insist upon my leaving,

thereby causing me to suffer a relapse...

...I shall sue you for every

additional day I am held inactive...

...which will amount, I assure you,

to a tidy sum.

- This is outrageous.

- As for your petty complaints...

...these gentlemen came

from the White House...

...where, I assure you,

they used the bathroom too.

- Ernest didn't...

- I did too. I meant every word.

There's only one point

in which I see slight justice.

I do not expect you to pay for my calls,

and I shall see that restitution is made.

- Can you provide the exact amount?

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