Front Page Woman Page #2

Lovely night for driving, isn't it?

Yes, step on it. Let's have a little speed.

Did I ever tell you the story about

my first wife?

No.

I'm lucky to have my motorcycle.

Hey, what's the matter here?

We've stopped.

What's the matter with that guy?

Hey, Toots.

He disappeared.

Look!

Hey, are you down there, Toots?

I don't know. It's too dark to tell.

You better come on out of there

or we'll come down after you.

Swell. Watch out for the first step,

it's 25 feet.

You mean you can't get out?

What do you think I am, a bird?

Boy, I wanna get out of here

and get some air.

I'm hot and dry all over.

Hey, you look pale as a ghost.

Hey, Mike.

Get this while it's hot.

Believe me, it's hot.

I gotta go right now, they're waiting.

Under my byline.

New York, written January 7th.

The lights of Broadway did not flicker.

But those of North Prison did as...

Mabel Gaye bravely sang her last finale.

With a song in her lips, Mabel Gaye,

Broadway's famous female Boniface

At midnight she...

Hey, Joe, take care of the kid,

will you?

Somebody get her some water.

Put her over on the bench

and get some water.

I don't know whether I can make this,

but here it goes. Are you ready?

I knew that daisy would wilt.

Never mind, I'll cover.

Pick up my stuff.

Be sure and tell the night desk to rewrite it,

otherwise we'll both have the same story.

Okay.

All right, let's go.

With a song on her lips, Mabel Gaye,

Broadway's famous female Boniface

walked to the electric chair last night

to expiate the murder of dapper

Rudy Spade.

As the auburn-haired beauty walked down

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.

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