ABC ALBUM

MAY 24, 1953

NO. 7

SKETCHBOOK

Contents

"The Chaser" by John Collier

"You Were Perfectly Fine" by Dorothy Parker

"Nightmare Number Three" by Stephen Vincent
Benet

"The Reticence of Lady Anne" by Saki (H.H.Munro)

Executive Producer..........Herbert H. Brodkin

Written by ..................Alvin Sapinsley

Directors..................Robert H. Gordon and Len Valenta

Art Director...............James McNaughton

Produced by the American Broadcasting Company
in association with Richard H. Gordon, Jr.

PLYMOUTH PLAYHOUSE

Opening and Closing
Narrations for Chapter Seven of
THE ABC ALBUM

"SKETCHBOOK"

FADE IN FILM:
PLYMOUTH FLAG WAVING
AGAINST CLOUD
BACKGROUND.

**ANNOUNCER:**
Plymouth... Chrysler Corporation's number
one car...

DISSOLVE TO TELOP:
"PLYMOUTH PLAYHOUSE"

**ANNOUNCER: (CONT)**
...brings you... *Plymouth Playhouse*...
presenting Chapter Seven of the ABC ALBUM,
"Sketchbook!"

DISSOLVE TO MCU:
COMMERCIAL ANNOUNCER

**ANNOUNCER: (CONT)**
And in just one moment it will be my
pleasure to turn the program over to our
special guest and host for this chapter,
the distinguished man of the theatre, film
and television, who was last seen on ABC
Album as the director of "Mr. Glencannon
Takes All," Sir Cedric Hardwicke--but first,
here is a word from Plymouth.

DISSOLVE TO:
OPENING COMMERCIAL.

-1-

MOVE IN FOR A TIGHT CU COMMENTATOR
COMMENTATOR (CONT)

The crises are far removed from each other,
the people are wholly unknown and unrelated
to one another - but each is a picture
of life at its turning point, each is an
extraordinary moment in a heretofore
ordinary existence, each is an example
of that inevitable split-second in the
course of human events when decisions are
made - or avoided - when projects are
embarked upon - or abandoned - when
pathways are trod upon, or detours made -
and from which, once that split second has
passed - there is no turning back.

COMMENTATOR'S FACE REMAINS IN FULL CU TO
ONE SIDE OF FRAME, WHILE THE FIGURE OF
ALAN APPEARS IN FAR B.G. SURROUNDED BY
BLACKNESS, WALKING VERY SLOWLY TOWARD F.G.

Alan Austen is now embarking on a course
of action from which, with each footstep,
retreat becomes more and more difficult.
He still has time to turn back - but that
time is becoming shorter - and shorter as
he moves forward.

-4-

CAMERA PANS COMMENTATOR OUT OF FRAME
AND BRINGS IN FLIGHT OF STAIRS UP TO OLD
MAN'S SHOP. ALAN LOOMS LARGER AND LARGER
AS HIS FEET CARRY HIM INEXORABLY TOWARD
STAIRS.

COMMENTATOR: (CONT)(OFF SCREEN)

There will still be time when he reaches
the bottom step of those stairs - but not
as much time as there would have been had
he turned away sooner - or not come at all.

ALAN REACHES THE STAIRS, HESITATES A
MOMENT. THEN HE BEGINS, SLOWLY AND
DELIBERATELY, TO ASCEND THE STAIRS.

There will still be time for Alan Austen
when he is halfway up - or all the way up.
There is still time as he pauses at the
door -

ALAN STOPS AT THE DOOR AT THE HEAD OF THE
STAIRS, HIS HAND REACHING FOR THE KNOB
AND HESITATING.

CAMERA ARCS CU COMMENTATOR IN, AND ALAN
OUT, OF FRAME.

COMMENTATOR:

We are now at the split-second of decision,
the split-second during which Alan's hand
hesitates on the door-knob.

CU HAND ON DOORKNOB IN LIMBO.

-5-

**COMMENTATOR: (CONT) (OFF-SCREEN)**

Until that knob turns, Alan is a free
agent, a man capable of choosing, deciding,
turning to this path or that, or avoiding
all paths altogether. This is Alan
Austin's moment of crisis.

THE HAND TURNS THE KNOB.

(OFF-SCREEN) **He has chosen!**

CU OLD MAN. HE STARES BENIGNLY, EXPECTANTLY
INTO THE CAMERA.

**OLD MAN:**

Can I be of service to you?

PULL OUT FOR FS.

ALAN STANDS IN THE DOORWAY OF THE OLD
MAN'S SHOP, ONE HAND STILL ON THE KNOB,
INSPECTING THE PREMISES CURIOUSLY, A
LITTLE TIMIDLY.

THE ROOM IS BARE, MOULDY, RAMSHACKLE. A
KITCHEN TABLE, A CHAIR, A RICKETY ROLL-
TOP DESK ON WHICH RESTS A BATTERED
TYPE WRITER, A SHELF UPON WHICH IS A ROW
OF BOTTLES.

**ALAN:**

I... er.. I don't know if I'm in the
right place, or not. I... I was told that
you carry a certain mixture that has.. er..
quite extraordinary effects.

**MAN: (NONCOMMITALLY, BUT POLITELY)**

Ah? And, who told you that, may I ask?

-6-

**ALAN:**

Well.. the name's here.. maybe you know
it.

(HE HANDS OVER THE PRESCRIPTION BLANK.
THE OLD MAN STUDIES IT FOR A MOMENT).

**MAN:**

Ah. And it was for the mixture indicated
here?

**ALAN:** (QUICKLY)

If.. if it does what it's supposed to..
of course, something just as good, maybe,
or something... I was told it was quite
extraordinary.

**MAN:**

My dear sir, my stock in trade is not very
large.. but such as it is, it is varied.
Nothing I sell can be precisely described
as.. ordinary.

**ALAN:**

Well, the fact of the matter is..

**MAN:** (INTERRUPTING)

For example, sir..

(HE REACHES FOR A BOTTLE FROM THE SHELF)
Here is a liquid...

-7-

ALAN: (REACHING)

Is that what I....?

MAN:

(HOLDING IT OUT OF REACH, AND GOING ON
SMOOTHLY) .. a liquid as colorless as
water, you'll observe.. almost tasteless..
you will _not_ observe just now, sir!. quite
imperceptible in coffee, milk, wine, or
any other beverage. _And_... it is also
quite imperceptible to any known method
of autopsy.

(ALAN SNATCHES HIS HAND BACK QUICKLY)

ALAN: (HORRIFIED)

It's.. poison?

MAN: (URBANELY)

Call it a cleaning fluid if you like.
Lives need cleaning, eh? Call it.. a
spot remover. (HE DANGLES IT TEMPTINGLY
IN FRONT OF ALAN'S NOSE. ALAN BACKS
OFF HASTILY)

ALAN:

I want nothing of that sort, I can assure
you.

(THE OLD MAN NODS SAGELY, AND REPLACES
THE BOTTLE ON THE SHELF)

-8-

**MAN:**

Probably it is just as well. Do you know
the price of this? For one teaspoonful,
<u>which is sufficient</u>.. I ask five thousand
dollars.

**ALAN:** (ASTOUNDED)

Five thousand dollars.

**MAN:** (OBSTINATELY)

Never less.

**ALAN:**

For <u>one</u> teaspoonful?

**MAN:** (SETTING HIS LIPS FORMLY)

Not a peeny less. I don't like to seem
obstinate, young man, but my price is
five thou....

**ALAN:** (A LITTLE CONFUSED)

But I said I didn't want any of that.
I came here for a far different...

**MAN:**

I simply make the statement. One never
knows what one may someday require very
badly, even if one's immediate needs seem
far removed. I say <u>seem far removed</u>, sir.

-9-

**ALAN:** (HOPEFULLY)

I hope all your mixtures are not as
expensive.

**MAN:** (UNBENDING)

Oh, dear, no. My prices are determined
by the needs of my customers. It would
be no good charging that sort of price
for.. for a love potion, for example.

**ALAN:** (BRIGHTENING)

Ah...

**MAN:** (GOING ON)

Young people who need a love potion very
seldom have five thousand dollars.
Otherwise they would not need a love
potion.

**ALAN:**

I'm very glad to hear you say so.

**MAN:**

I look at it like this. Please a customer
with one article, and he will come back
when he needs another. Even if it is
more costly. He will save up for it, if
necessary.

**ALAN:**

So, you really *do* sell love potions?

-10-

MAN: (REACHING FOR ANOTHER BOTTLE)

If I did not sell love potions, young man,
I should not have mentioned the other matter
to you first.

ALAN: (FROWNING)

The poison? But I don't...

MAN: (SMILING)

I simply mean that it is only when one
is in a position to oblige that one can
afford to be so confidential.

(HE SETS THE BOTTLE ON THE TABLE, AND
PUSHES IT ACROSS FOR ALAN TO VIEW IT)

There you are, sir; "voila," as the French
say. Love potion.

(ALAN REACHES OUT TIMOROUSLY AND JUST
TOUCHES THE BOTTLE. HE LOOKS UP AT THE
OLD MAN.)

ALAN:

It.. it's not just.. just a..

MAN:

Oh, no. My guarantee, sir; the effects
are permanent, and extend far beyond the
mere casual impulse. (AS ALAN IS ABOUT TO
SPEAK) Oh, they include it, sir. Oh yes,
they include it. Bountifully, insistently,
everlastingly. (FROM HIS TABLE DRAWER, HE

-11- TAKES A TEST TUBE)

**ALAN:** (CONTROLLING HIS EAGERNESS)

That's very interesting. What, precisely,
does it.. er..?

**MAN:** (UNCORKING BOTTLE)

For indifference, it substitutes devotion.

For scorn, adoration.

(HE STARTS TO POUR FROM THE BOTTLE INTO THE
TEST TUBE)

Give one tiny measure of this to the young
lady.. its flavor is imperceptible in
orange juice, soup, or cocktails.. and
however gay and giddy she is, she will
change altogether. She'll want nothing
but solitude.. and you.

(HE FINISHES POURING, REPLACES AND CORKS
THE BOTTLE)

**ALAN:**

I can hardly believe it. She's so fond
of parties.

**MAN:**

She will not like them any more. She'll
be afraid of the pretty girls you may meet.

(HOLDING THE FILLED TUBE WITH ONE HAND HE
SCROUNGES IN THE DRAWER WITH THE OTHER,
HUNTING FOR A CORK)

**ALAN:** (RAPTUROUS)

She'll actually be jealous? Of me?

12

(HE CAN HARDLY KEEP FROM GRABBING AT THE
TEST TUBE)

**MAN:**

Yes, she will want to be everything to you.
Where in the...? Ah, here.

(HE FINDS A CORK, AND PLUGS THE TEST TUBE.
HE SHAKES IT SLIGHTLY, HOLDS IT TO THE
LIGHT, EXAMINES IT)

**ALAN:**

She is everything to me already. Only
she doesn't care about it. That's why...

**MAN:**

She will, when she has taken this. She
will care intensely. You'll be her sole
interest in life.

**ALAN:**

Wonderful!

(THE OLD MAN CARRIES THE TEST TUBE TO WHERE
AN OBSOLETE, NOISY, TYPEWRITER STANDS ON
A DECREPIT TABLE. HE SITS AT THE TYPEWRITER
AND STILL HOLDING THE TEST TUBE WITH ONE
HAND, USES THE OTHER TO INSERT A GUMMED
LABEL IN THE TYPEWRITER. HE PECKS OUT A
FEW LETTERS ON THE MACHINE WITH HIS FREE
HAND, TYPING THE LABEL)

-13-

**MAN:** (AS HE TYPES)

She'll want to know all you do, all
that's happened to you during the day,
every word you've said, and every person
you said it to. She'll want to know what
you are thinking about, why you smile
suddenly, why you are looking sad. She'll
want to know..

**ALAN:**

This is love!

(THE OLD MAN LOOKS UP AT HIM FOR A MOMENT,
THEN BACK AT THE TYPEWRITER)

**MAN:**

Yes.. that is love.

(HE TAKES THE LABEL FROM THE MACHINE,
READS IT BACK TO HIMSELF)

How carefully she'll look after you.

She'll never allow you to be tired, to sit
in a draught, to neglect your food. If
you are an hour late, she'll be terrified.

She'll think you're dead.. or unfaithful.

(WITH A SINGLE MOTION OF HIS TONGUE HE
MOISTENS THE LABEL)

**ALAN:**

(ECSTATIC) I can hardly imagine Diana like
that.

-14-

**MAN:**

There'll be no need to imagine. (HE STICKS
THE LABEL ON THE TEST-TUBE, RUBS IT TIGHT)
And no matter what you do, you needn't
worry. Whatever the misdeed, whatever the
error, whatever the.. er.. hurt you might
do her.. she'll forgive you.

**ALAN:** (INDIGNANT)

I'd never give her a moment's uneasiness!

**MAN:**

Of course not. But if you do.. you needn't
worry. (STILL CLUTCHING THE NOW LABELLED
TEST TUBE, HE RISES FROM THE TYPEWRITER,
AND CROSSES TO WHERE A HUGE, DOG-EARED,
YELLOW-PAGED VOLUME LIES OPEN ON A TABLE.
CONSULTING THE LABEL ON THE TEST TUBE HE
LABORIOUSLY WRITES A FEW WORDS IN THE
VOLUME, HIS LIPS MOVING AS HE MAKES THE
NOTATION).

She'll never divorce you, you can be sure
of that, never. And, of course, she'll
never give you the least.. the very least..
grounds for.. not divorce, certainly, but
even worry.

(HE BLOTS HIS NOTATION WITH A ROLL-BLOTTER,
AND HOLDS UP THE TEST TUBE, READY FOR ALAN)
There we are, sir. Love potion.. one dose.

-15-

**ALAN:** (REACHING FOR IT)

How much? How much is this wonderful
mixture?

**MAN:** (WITH A DEPRACTORY SHRUG)

It's not so dear, sir. Not nearly so dear
as the.. er.. spot remover, as I think we
agreed to call it.

(HE TAKES THE BOTTLE OF POISON DOWN FROM
THE SHELF AGAIN)

No.. this is five thousand dollars, never
a penny less. One has to be older than
you to indulge in this sort of thing.
One has to save up for it.

**ALAN:** (IMPATIENTLY)

But the love potion!

**MAN:** (SHRUGGING AGAIN)

Oh that? That is just one dollar.

(ALAN FRANTICALLY TAKES A DOLLAR FROM HIS
POCKET AND HANDS IT TO THE OLD MAN)

**ALAN:**

(HOLDING TIGHTLY TO THE TEST TUBE)

I can't tell you how grateful I am.

**MAN:** (CAREFULLY FOLDING THE DOLLAR)

I like to oblige. Then customers come
back, you see?

-16- (MORE)

MAN: (CONT)

Later in life, when they are rather better
off, and want.. more expensive things..
they come back.

(HE IS HOLDING THE BOTTLE OF POISON FONDLY)

ALAN:

Thank you again... for this.

MAN:

(NODDING) You'll find it very effective
young man. My guarantee - it will do
all the things I said it would do: all
the things I said - and more besides.

ALAN:

Good bye.

MOVE IN FOR CU OLD MAN. HE IS HOLDING
THE BOTTLE OF POISON.

MAN:

(QUIETLY, SMILING WISELY) Au revoir.

START PULLING OUT. PULL OUT PAST SET
LINES, SO THAT ROOM IS SEEN STANDING
ISOLATED IN THE STUDIO, REVEALED AS SIMPLY
AN ARRANGEMENT OF FLATS, WITH THE BARE,
TOWERING WALLS OF THE STUDIO AROUND IT,
AND COMMENTATOR STANDING IN FOREGROUND
OF FRAME.

COMMENTATOR:

Au revoir. Goodbye for now - or - 'til
we meet again, eh? Another crisis is in
store for our young friend - another
decision - another turning point.

(MORE)

-17-

COMMENTATOR: (CONT)

When will it arrive - and what will be
his choice? (BREAKING THE MOOD) You have
just seen Crisis Number One; "The Chaser,"
by John Collier, with
and

THE "CHASER" SET FADES AWAY AND THE
COMMENTATOR IS LEFT ALONE IN HIS CIRCLE OF
LIGHT, SURROUNDED BY THE DARKNESS.

COMMENTATOR:

Alan Austen walked into his crisis with his
eyes open. There are other ways to
approach your split-second of decision -
more <u>painless</u> ways, you might say: with
your eyes <u>closed</u>, for instance - or with
your eyes <u>unseeing</u>, or your ears unhearing -
or your mind <u>unremembering</u>. You can march
headlong toward your turning point aware
that each step carries you inexorably
nearer and nearer that point from which
there is no retreat - or you can
unmindfully slide into it, waking the
next morning, or the next afternoon, with
a hammering in your temples, and the
awful feeling that sometime during the
preceding night you met your fate - and
succumbed to it.

-18-

PETER APPEARS IN A CIRCLE OF LIGHT, SPRAWLED IN AN EASY CHAIR, TWISTED SO THAT HE CAN REST HIS BURNING FOREHEAD ON THE COOL LEATHER. COMMENTATOR REMAINS IN FOREGROUND.

PETER: (DIMLY)

Oh, dear - oh, dear--oh, dear!

COMMENTATOR TURNS TO LOOK AT PETER

COMMENTATOR:

Yes - several hours ago Peter met the enemy - and he was hers.

THE GIRL WALKS INTO THE FRAME ON A LEVEL WITH COMMENTATOR. A LOOK PASSES BETWEEN THEM: SWEET INNOCENCE FROM THE GIRL, CYNICAL AMUSEMENT FROM THE COMMENTATOR. THE GIRL CONTINUES TOWARD THE YOUNG MAN SPRAWLED IN THE CHAIR.

CAMERA FOLLOWS HER IN, LOSING COMMENTATOR

GIRL:

(BRIGHTLY) Not feeling so well today?

PETER:

(GROANING) What gives you that impression?

I'm great: fine! Know what time I got up?

Four o'clock this afternoon, sharp. I kept trying to make it, and every time I took my head off the pillow, it would roll under the bed. This isn't my head I've got on now: this is something that used to belong to Walt Whitman. Oh - my!

-19-

**GIRL:**

Do you think maybe a drink would make you
feel better?

**PETER:**

(CRINGING) No, thank you. Please do me
the favor of never mentioning anything like
that again. I'm - through!

HOLDS UP HIS HANDS TO TEST THEIR
STEADINESS.

Steady as a humming bird.

HE LOOKS AT HER THOUGHTFULLY FOR A MOMENT,
AND THEN HESITANTLY BROACHES A PECULIARLY
DISTASTEFUL SUBJECT.

**PETER:**

Tell me - was I very terrible last night?

**GIRL:**

Good heavens, no. You were all right.

**PETER:**

(SOURLY) I must have been dandy. I suppose
everyone's sore at me.

**GIRL:**

Oh no. Everyone thought you were terribly
funny. (HE WINCES) Of course, Jim Pierson
was a little stuffy there for a minute,
at dinner. But people sort of held him
back in his chair, and he calmed down.

-20-

(MORE)

**GIRL:** (CONT)

I don't think anybody at the other tables noticed it at all. **Hardly** anybody.

**PETER:**

(ALARMED) He was going to sock me? What did I do to him?

**GIRL:**

(SOOTHINGLY) You didn't do a thing. You were perfectly fine. But you know how silly Jim gets, when he thinks anybody is making too much fuss over Elinor.

**PETER:**

(SITTING BOLT-UPRIGHT) I didn't make a pass at Elinor? Good Lord, did I do that?

**GIRL:**

Of course you didn't. You were only fooling, that's all. She thought you were awfully amusing. She was having a marvelous time. She only got a tiny little bit annoyed once, when you poured the clamjuice down her back.

**PETER:**

(GASPING WITH HORROR) When I - ? Oh-h-h.

HE TURNS, AND BURIES HIS FACE IN THE BACK OF THE CHAIR. SHE GOES TO HIM AND STROKES HIS HAIR SOOTHINGLY

-21-

**GIRL:**

She'll be all right. Send her some
flowers, and don't worry about it.

**PETER:**

(MUFFLED) Oh, I'm not worrying. I haven't
got a care in the world. I'm sitting
pretty. (LOOKING UP, APPREHENSIVE) Did
I do any other fascinating tricks at
dinner?

**GIRL:**

(BEAMING) You were fine. Don't be so
foolish about it. Everybody was crazy
about you. (PETER GROANS AGAIN) The
maître d'hôtel was a little worried
because you wouldn't stop singing, but he
really didn't mind. All he said was, he
was afraid they'd close the place again,
if there was so much noise. But he didn't
care a bit, himself. I think he loved
seeing you have such a good time. Oh,
you were just singing away, there, for
about an hour. It wasn't so terribly
loud, at all.

**PETER:** (MISERABLE)

I'm so glad it wasn't so terribly loud.
(SHUDDERING) I sang! That must have
been a treat.

-22-

**GIRL:**

Don't you remember? You just sang one
song after another. Everybody in the
place was listening. They loved it. Only
you kept insisting that you wanted to sing
some song about some kind of fusiliers,
or something, and everybody kept shushing
you, and you'd keep trying to start again.
You were wonderful. We were all trying
to make you stop singing for a minute
and eat something, but you wouldn't hear
of it. My, you were funny.

AT EACH FRESH REVELATION PETER'S MISERY
INCREASES

**PETER:**

(PUZZLED) Didn't I eat any dinner?

**GIRL:** (GAILY)

Not a bite! Every time the waiter would
offer you something, you'd give it right
back to him, because you said that he
was your long-lost brother, changed in
the cradle by a gypsy band, and that
anything you had was his. You had him
simply roaring at you.

**PETER:**

I bet I did. I bet I was comical! And
what happened then, after my overwhelming
success with the waiter?

-23-

**GIRL:**

(FLIPPANTLY) Why, nothing much. You took
a sort of dislike to some old man with
white hair, sitting across the room,
because you didn't like his necktie and
you wanted to tell him about it. But
we got you out before he got really mad.

**PETER:**

(NODDING, WITH MORBID INTEREST) Oh, we
got out, did we? Did I walk?

**GIRL:**

Walk? Of course you did. You were
absolutely all right. (FROWNING SLIGHTLY)
There was that nasty stretch of ice on
the sidewalk, and you did sit down
awfully hard, you poor dear. But, good
heavens, that might happen to anybody.

**PETER:**

(MOROSELY) Oh, sure. Anybody.

(PITEOUSLY) So I fell down on the sidewalk?

WITH A LOOK OF ENLIGHTENMENT, HE
THOUGHTFULLY MASSAGES HIS RUMP TENDERLY.

That explains the matter with my - yes, I
see. (EYEING HER SUSPICIOUSLY) And then
what, if you don't mind?

-24-

**GIRL:**

(SMILING FONDLY AT HIM) Ah, now, Peter:
you can't sit there and say you don't
remember what happened after that?

**PETER:**

From the way you say it, it must have
been -

**GIRL:**

(TOUCHING HIS HAIR GENTLY) That lovely,
long ride in the taxi - you remember that,
don't you?

**PETER:**

(TRYING HARD TO REMEMBER) Ride in a taxi?
Oh, yes, sure. Pretty - long - ride,
hmmm?

**GIRL:**

(ECSTATIC) Round, and round, and round
the park. Oh, and the trees were shining
so in the moonlight. And you said (LOOKING
AT HIM CLOSELY) you remember what you
said.

**PETER:**

(HESITATING, BLUFFING) Well, I said - I
said -

-25-

ABC ALBUM - SKETCHBOOK

(REVISED)

VIDEO

GIRL:

Of course you did! You said you never knew
before that you really had a soul.

PETER:

(STARTLED) I said that?

GIRL:

Oh, and such lovely, lovely things. And to
think that I never knew, all this time, how
you felt about me, and I never dared let you
see how I felt about you.

(PETER LOOKS AT HER NUMBLY, A GROWING
REALIZATION OF THE IMPLICATIONS OF HER
REMARKS COMING TO HIM)

GIRL: (CONT)

And then last night..oh, Peter, dear, I
think that taxi ride last night was the
most important thing that ever happened to
us in our lives. And I simply can't wait
until the 21st.

PETER:

The...twenty-first?

AUDIO

-26-

ABC ALBUM - SKETCHBOOK

(REVISED)

VIDEO

AUDIO

GIRL:

Yes. Oh, I know I wanted to put it off a
few weeks..after all, it takes time to get
ready..there are oh, so many things a girl
has to do. But you were so insistent and
eager to make it soon..that, well, now
I can't wait, either!

PETER:

(DULLY) Can't wait.

GIRL:

And from then on you won't have a thing
to do! You'll never have to move out of your
chair. I'll be here to get you everything you
want. And, don't for a minute worry about
anything that happened last night. You
were perfectly fine!

(SHE GOES OUT)

(HE LOOKS AFTER HER, HIS EYES WIDE
WITH HORROR)

(MORE)

-27-

AND, FROM OFF SCREEN, THE SOUND OF A
COCKTAIL SHAKER BEING AGITATED VIGOROUSLY
AS AN ACCOMPANIMENT TO A GIRL'S VOICE RAISEI
IN JOYOUS AND TRIUMPHANT SONG.

PULL QUICKLY OUT OF SET, UNTIL COMMENTATOR
APPEARS IN CLOSEUP IN F.G. OF FRAME.
AS HE STARTS TO SPEAK, THE IMAGE OF THE
WRETCHED YOUNG MAN STARTS TO FADE OUT OF
THE PICTURE.

COMMENTATOR:

Alan Austen had to travel down to the
twisted streets of Chinatown to purchase
his love potion - Peter had his
administered to him in the commoner and more
easily available form dispensed
by every bar and tavern in the country.
But in both cases the roads they embarked
upon have no side-streets, no return
routes, no exits - except the one that
terminates in a pair of stairs leading
to a small badly lit, ill-furnished
shop on the second floor of a dingy
building on Pell Street - where certain
extremely potent medicaments retail for
five thousand dollars the teaspoonful.

Question: will Alan and Peter chance to
meet some day in that old man's curious
establishment? (HE PAUSES A MOMENT, THEN
BREAKS THE MOOD) That was "You were
Perfectly Fine," by Dorothy Parker, as
played by ________ and ________

---

(MORE)

-28-

## PART TWO

FADE OUT OF MIDDLE COMMERCIAL

FADE UP ON COMMENTATOR

### COMMENTATOR:

THERE WERE MANY THINGS TO THINK ABOUT IN OUR LAST EPISODE. AT THIS MOMENT I PERSONALLY CHOOSE TO THINK ABOUT TAXICABS. OUR YOUNG FRIEND PETER RODE BLINDLY TO HIS DESTINY IN A TAXICAB AT 25¢ FOR THE FIRST FIFTH OF A MILE AND 5¢ FOR EACH ADDITIONAL FIFTH OF A MILE.

I HAVE A COUPLE OF QUESTIONS TO POSE AT THIS POINT. WHEN PETER STEPPED OUT OF THAT HACK ... TO STEP OUT A MAN WHO HAD MET HIS SPLIT SECOND OF DECISION AND BOGGLED BEFORE IT ... WHAT WAS THE MOTIVE POWER WHICH DROVE HIM INTO THE AUTOMOBILE? DID IT COME FROM PETER OR WAS IT FROM THE GIRL OR WAS IT THE TAXICAB IT'S SELF? LET US LOOK FOR A MOMENT OR TWO AT A MAN LIVING IN A WORLD WHERE THE MACHINES HAVE TAKEN OVER. IT MIGHT BE JUST A NIGHTMARE ... BUT THEN AGAIN IT MIGHT BE A PORTENT.

- 30 -

(THE ROOF TOP APPEARS IN LIGHT AS THE CAMERA DOLLIES PAST THE NARRATOR)

THE READER ENTERS THE DOOR. CLOSES AND LOCKS IT THEN LOOKS AROUND AND LEANS AGAINST IT. THEN WALKS TO BASE OF VENT AND SITS.)

READER

WE HAD EXPECTED ANYTHING BUT REVOLT
AND I KIND OF WONDER MYSELF WHEN THEY STARTED THINKING..
BUT THERE'S NO DICE IN THAT NOW.

I'VE HEARD FELLOWS SAY
THEY MUST HAVE PLANNED IT FOR YEARS AND MAYBE THEY DID.
LOOKING BACK YOU CAN FIND LITTLE INCIDENTS HERE AND

THERE,
LIKE THE CONCRETE - MIXER IN JERSEY EATING IT'S

OPERATOR,
(HE RISES AND GOES UP STAGE LEANING ON PARAPET)

IT WAS ONLY THE BEST
MACHINES, OF COURSE, THE SUPERHUMAN MACHINES,
THE ONES WE'D BUILT TO BE BETTER THAN FLESH AND BONE,
BUT THE CARS WERE IN IT, OF COURSE ...

(MELANGE OF AUTO HORNS)

- 31 - 32

READER:

And they hunted us

Like rabbits through the cramped streets on
Bloody Monday,

The Madison Avenue busses leading the
charge.

(BRING IN BUS SOUND WITH ABOVE)

The busses were pretty bad -- but I'll not
forget

The smash of glass when the Dusenberg left
the show-room...

(GLASS CRASH, INCREASE OF ABOVE NOISES
--SEVERAL PAIRS OF MADLY RUNNING FEET)

And pinned three brokers to the Racquet
Club steps

Or the long howl of the horns when they saw
men run;

(MANY AUTO HORNS OF VARYING PITCHES
AND INTENSITIES)

When they saw us looking for holes in the
solid ground...

(ALL NOISE RISE TO CLIMAX, THEN CUT
OUT SUDDENLY.)

-33-

READER:

I guess they were tired of being ridden in
And stopped and started by pygmies for silly
ends,

Of wrapping cheap cigarettes and bad
chocolate bars

Collecting nickels and waving platinum hair
And letting six million people live in a
town.

I guess it was that. I guess they got tired
of us

And the whole smell of human hands.

(A PAIR OF FEET CLIMBING STAIRS,
SLOWLY, LABORIOUSLY)

But it was a shock

To climb sixteen flights of stairs to Art
Zuckow's office

(Nobody took the elevators twice)

And find him strangled to death in a nest of
telephones,

The octopus-tendrils waving over his head,
And a sort of quiet-hrumming filling the
air...

(MANY, MANY TELEPHONES RINGING, SOUND
OF SWITCHBOARD CORDS PLUGGING IN AND
OUT, SWITCHES CLICKING, ETC.)

-34-

READER:

Do they eat?...There was red...But I
did not stop to look.

(FOOTSTEPS RUNNING MADLY, AS TELEPHONE
MELANGE FADES INTO THE DISTANCE. DOORS
OPENING AND SLAMMING)

I don't know yet how I got to the roof in
time

And it's lonely here on the roof.

For a while, I thought

That window-cleaner would make it, and keep
me company.

(SOUND OF A WINCH CREAKING SLOWLY.
THEN IT STOPS, AND THERE IS A STIFLED,
GAGGING SCREAM AND A SCUFFLE.)

But they got him with his own hoist at the
sixteenth floor,

And dragged him in, with a squeal.

You see, they cooperate. Well, we taught
them that

And it's fair enough, I suppose. You see,
we built them.

We taught them to think for themselves.

It was bound to come. You can see it was
bound to come.

(MORE)

-35-

READER: (CONT)

And it won't be so bad, in the country. I
hate to think

Of the reapers, running wild in the Kansas
fields,

And the transport planes like hawks on a
chickenyard,

But the horses might help. We might make a
deal with the horses.

At least, you've more chance, out there.

And they need us, too.

They're bound to realize that when they
once calm down.

They'll need oil and spare parts and
adjustments and tuning up.

Slaves? Well, in a way, you know, we were
slaves before.

There won't be so much real difference --
honest there won't.

(I wish I hadn't looked into that beauty-
parlor

And seen what was happening there.

But those are female machines and a bit
high-strung.)

Oh, we'll settle down. We'll arrange it.
We'll compromise.

It wouldn't make sense to wipe out the
whole human race.

(MORE)

-36-

READER: (CONT)

Why, I bet if I went to my old Plymouth now
(Of course you'd have to do it the tactful
way)

And said, "Look here! Who got you the swell
French horn?"

He wouldn't turn me over to those police
cars;

At least I don't think he would.

(A PUNCTUATION OF AUTO HORNS, SQUEAL
OF BRAKES RUNNING FEET, SUDDENLY
CUTTING OUT)

Oh, it's going to be jake.

There won't be so much real difference --
honest there won't ...

And I'd go down in a minute and take my
chance --

I'm a good American and I always liked them -
Except for one small detail that bothers me
And that's the food proposition. Because,
you see,

The concrete-mixer may have made a mistake,
And it looks like just high spirits.

(START CONCRETE MIXER, BRING IN ALL OTHER
SOUNDS. START CRESCENDO.)

But, if it's got so they like the
flavor -- well --

-37-

MUSIC INCREASES AS THE VENT STARTS TO ROTATE
IT BUILDS TO A CLIMAX.

DISOLVE TO COMMENTATOR

COMMENTATOR

SO MAYBE IT WASN'T THE OLD MAN WHO SEALED ALAN AUSTEN'S FATE, AFTER ALL ... MAYBE IT WAS THE RICKETY TYPEWRITER THAT TYPED THE LABEL. AND MAYBE IT WASN'T THE GIRL WHO TURNED PETER'S FOOTSTEPS ONTO THE PATH HE CHOSE TO TRAVERSE, MAYBE IT WAS THAT BATTERED TAXICAB TIRED OF WORKING FOR MAN AT THE PREVAILING RATES. AS IX I SAY ... THESE THINGS BEAR THINKING ABOUT. (BREAKING MOOD) THAT WAS STEPHEN VINCENT BENET'S "NIGHTMARE NUMBER THREE" AND THE MAN ON THE ROOF WAS WALTER MATTHAU.

AND NOW WE MOVE FROM SOUND TO SILENCE, AND WE EXAMINE ANOTHER EXAMPLE OF PEOPLE WHOSE USUALLY MUNDANE EXISTENCES SUDDENLY BLOSSOM IN TO HIGH DRAMA.

(A POOL OF LIGHT COMES ON BEHIND HIM. THEN EGBERT ENTERS)

THIS IS EGBERT. HE CAME INTO THE LARGE, DIMLY LIT DRAWING ROOM WITH THE AIR OF A MAN WHO IS NOT CERTAIN WHETHER HE IS ENTERING A DOVECOTE OR A BOMB FACTORY AND IS PREPARED FOR EITHER EVENTUALITY.

NARRATOR: (CONT)

The little domestic quarrel over the luncheon table had not been fought to a definite finish, and the question was how far Lady Anne was in a mood to renew or forego hostilities. Her pose in the arm-chair by the tea-table was rather elaborately rigid; in the gloom of a December afternoon Egbert's pince-nez did not materially help him to discern the expression of her face.

(EGBERT LOOKS ANXIOUSLY TOWARD LADY ANNE)

(MS LADY ANNE. SHE DOESN'T RESPOND TO HIS ENTRANCE.)

(MS EGBERT. HE GULPS SILENTLY A FEW TIMES, HESITATES, THEN INFLATES HIS CHEST AND TAKES A FEW STEPS INTO THE ROOM. HE SMILES.)

NARRATOR: (O.S.)

By way of breaking whatever ice might be floating on the surface he made a remark about a dim religious light.

(EGBERT'S PANTOMINE EXPRESSES THIS)

He or Lady Anne were accustomed to make that remark between 4:30 and 6 on winter and late autumn evenings; it was part of their married life. There was no recognized rejoinder to it, and Lady Anne made none.

-40-

(MS LADY ANNE. SHE REMAINS ALOOF.)

(MS EGBERT. HE SIGHS, DEFLATES HIMSELF, AND SITS AT THE TABLE.)

(MS DON TARQUINO BEFORE FIRE.)

NARRATOR: (OFF-SCREEN)

Don Tarquino lay astretch on the Persian rug, basking in the firelight with superb indifference to the possible ill-humor of Lady Anne.

(MS EGBERT. HE PROCEEDS TO POUR HIMSELF A CUP OF TEA, DOING IT ELABORATELY AND CAREFULLY.)

NARRATOR: (OFF-SCREEN)

Egbert poured himself out some tea. As the silence gave no sign of breaking on Lady Anne's initiative, he braced himself for another yeoman effort.

(EGBERT PUTS DOWN HIS TEACUP
DECISIVELY, SITS UP STRAIGHT, TAKES
OFF HIS PINCE-NEZ, POLISHES THEM,
RETURNS THEM TO HIS NOSE, SHOOTS HIS
CUFFS, AND THEN SPEAKS)

EGBERT:

(IN A VERY HESITANT, TREMULOUS TONE)

My remark at lunch had a purely academic application. You seem to put an unnecessarily personal significance into it.

(HE STOPS, WAITING FOR A REPLY)

-41-

(MS LADY ANNE. THERE IS NO REPLY)

(MS EGBERT. AS THE SILENCE LENGTHENS,
HE DROOPS, RAISES HIS TEACUP, TAKES A
MOURNFUL SIP.)

NARRATOR: (OFF-SCREEN)

Lady Anne maintained her defensive barrier
of silence. The bullfinch lazily filled in
the interval with an air from Iphigenie en
Tauride.

-42-

(OFF-SCREEN, THE BULLFINCH WARBLES A THRILL OR TWO. EGBERT REGISTERS THE SOUND)

EGBERT:

(HOPEFULLY) She's whistling "Iphigena in Taurus" again, my dear.

NARRATOR: (OFF SCREEN)

Egbert recognized the tune immediately, because it was the only tune the bullfinch whistled, and he had come to them with the reputation for whistling it. The silence continued.

(POINTEDLY, EGBERT REMOVES HIS WATCH FROM HIS WAISTCOAT POCKET, FLICKS OPEN THE LID AND CONSULTS IT.)

As a rule Lady Anne's displeasure became articulare and markedly voluble after four minutes of introductory muteness.

(EGBERT PURSES HIS LIPS, SIGHS, REPLACES HIS WATCH, AND FIDDLES WITH HIS THUMBS UNCOMFORTABLY FOR A MOMENT. THEN HE SEIZES THE MILK-JUG AND POURS SOME OF ITS CONTENTS INTO DON TARQUINO'S SAUCER.)

Egbert seized the milk-jug and poured some of its contents into Don Tarquino's saucer; as the saucer was already full to the brim an unsightly overflow was the result.

-43-

NARRATOR

DON TARQUINO LOOKED ON WITH ELABORATE UNCONCERN.

ROBERT

I SAY, DON'T YOU THINK WE'RE BEING RATHER POOLISH?

NARRATOR

IF LADY ANNE THOUGHT SO, SHE DIDN'T SAY SO.

EGBERT:

(CONTINUING IN SAME VEIN) I dare say the fault has been partly on my side. After all, I'm only human, you know. You seem to forget that I'm only human.

NARRATOR: (C.-S.)

He insisted on this point, as if there had been unfounded rumor that he was built along some other lines.

(EGBERT SIGHS AGAIN, AND LOOKS AT HIS WIFE, LINES OF WORRY BEGINNING TO CREASE HIS FOREHEAD)

Egbert began to feel depressed. Lady Anne was not drinking her tea. Perhaps she was feeling unwell. But when Lady Anne felt unwell she was not wont to be reticent on the subject. "No one knows what I suffer from indigestion" was one of her favorite statements, but the lack of knowledge can only have been caused by defective listening the amount of information available on the subject would have supplied material for a monograph.

(EGBERT SIGHS AGAIN, SHAKES HIS HEAD)

Evidently Lady Anne was not feeling unwell.

(MORE)

-45-

(EGBERT RISES, TAKES WHAT HE SUPPOSES IS A DOMINANT POSITION ON THE HEARTH-RUG ALTHOUGH THE ACT IS SOMEWHAT INEFFECTUAL DUE TO DON TARQUINO'S REFUSAL TO GIVE UP ANY ROOM.)

Egbert began to think he was being unreasonably dealt with; naturally he began to make concessions.

EGBERT:

(CLEARING HIS THROAT) I daresay I may have been to blame. I am willing, if I can thereby restore things to a happier standpoint, to undertake to lead a better life.

(EXHALING WITH RELIEF)

There!

(HE CLAPS HIS PINCE-NEZ ON HIS NOSE AND LOOKS HOPEFULLY AT HIS WIFE.)

(MS LADY ANNE.)

NARRATOR: (O.-S.)

Lady Anne showed no sign of being impressed.

(MS EGBERT, HE STARES AT HER UNEASILY, FIRST WITH HIS GLASSES, THEN WITHOUT THEM, THEN WITH THEM AGAIN.)

-46-

NARRATOR

IT WAS NO NEW EXPERIENCE FOR EGBERT TO GET THE WORST OF AN ARGUMENT WITH HER. TO GET THE WORST OF A MONOLOGUE WAS A HUMILIATING NOVELTY.

EGBERT

I SHALL GO AND DRESS FOR DINNER

(HE STRIDES TO THE DOOR, TURNS FOR A FINAL APPEAL)

AREN'T WE BEING VERY SILLY?

(LADY ANNE DOESN'T MOVE, EGBERT SLAPS THE BIRDCAGE IN HIS RAGE AND EXITS.)

(CAMERA PANS TO LADY ANNE AND DOLLIES IN)

NARRATOR

LADY ANNE MADE NO SIGN OF INTERFERING. SHE HAD BEEN DEAD FOR TWO HOURS.

- 47 -

MOVE IN FOR TIGHT CU OF LADY ANNE EYES
DISSOLVE TO TIGHT CLOSE UP COMMENTATORS EYES
THEY HOLD THEN BLINK
PULL OUT.

NARRATOR:

FOR THOSE WHO LIKE TANTALIZING QUESTIONS, PLEASE HERE'S ONE THAT MAY SERVE TO OCCUPY YOU FOR THE NEXT FEW MINUTES: IS THERE SOME CONNECTION, SOME DEFINABLE PROGRESSION FROM THE CRISIS IN THE APOLTHECARY SHOP, THROUGH THE CRISIS THE MORNING AFTER, TO THE CRISIS OF EGBERT? WAS THE LOVE POTION IN SOME WAY TIED UP WITH THE UNCONCIOUS PROPOSAL, AND WAS TEA - TIME AT LADY ANNE'S IN SOME WAY RELATED TO THAT OTHER PRODUCT MENTIONED BY THE OLD MAN. YOU HAVE JUST SEEN EAKI'S IMMORTAL CLASSIC " THE RETICENCE OF LADY ANNE. " PLAYED BY BORIS KARLOFF AND PATRICIA O'HARA. NARRATED BY SIR CEDRIC HARDWICKE AND YOU HAVE ALSO SEEN "SKETCHBOOK".

DISSOLVE TO CLOSING COMMERCIAL.