The Bride Came C.O.D.

Hello, Charlie!

Got anybody important in there?

- No, Mr. Keenan. Just a drunk.

- Why do you bother with small fry?

Just an hour till I go on the air

and not one single juicy item.

You boys have certainly let me down.

You're the one that was beefing

for reform in Los Angeles.

Now that you got it, you're beefing again.

I bet five minutes after I go off the air

the whole town'll break loose.

I always said, Tommy,

you went on too early.

People don't get ornery

until after midnight.

- Well, I...

- Calling car number 64.

Car number 64.

This ought to be something.

Don't forget it's only two days

to the policemen's ball,

and you're way behind

on your quota. Bradley.

- How about you buying a ticket, Tommy?

- No, let me out here. It's the Embassy.

Thanks, boys.

I won't buy a ticket, but I'll be at the ball.

- Hi.

- Good evening, Mr. Keenan.

Hello, Mabel. Any news?

I can't divulge anything personal,

but see that chesterfield on the rack?

- Yeah.

- That chesterfield's wife is a chinchilla,

but he's here tonight with a mink.

The skunk.

Forty-five minutes from broadcast time

- and they bother me with...

- No news, Tommy.

No news?

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

And that, ladies and gentlemen,

concludes our show for the nonce.

But, before turning you over to the boys

for a little dancing,

I have a short announcement to make.

Today, in Los Angeles, or "Los Angeles,"

as we native sons say,

as it must to all men,

happiness came to yours truly, Allen Brice.

For today, at exactly 8:57,

after much pressure, mind you,

I consented to become a bridegroom.

Do I hear groans

from the ladies in the audience?

Well, as you know of course, in California,

you can't get married for three days.

So that gives the rest of you girls

just exactly 72 hours

in which to make me a better offer.

Yes. I'll tell you what I'll do.

I've got a better idea.

The lucky girl, who's with us tonight,

will have the spotlight thrown on her

so the rest of you girls can go over

and scratch her eyes out.

Presenting Miss Joan Winfield.

Oh, no, no.

There must be some mistake, folks.

The last time I saw Joan she was a blonde.

Keep throwing that spotlight around, Joe.

We'll find her.

Allen's doing pretty good for a musician.

A Texas oil heiress.

I hardly know what to say.

- She's in the...

- Where?

And ladies and gentlemen, there she is.

Tell me, darling.

How's the weather in Chicago?

Listen, Joan.

You didn't call me long-distance,

person to person,

just to ask about the weather in Chicago.

Incidentally, it's fine.

Well, not exactly.

I wanted to find out how you were, too.

After the weather comes your father.

Well, incidentally, I'm okay, too.

Well, there was another reason that I...

Are you there? Hey! Hey!

- Oh, but, Father, I... You see...

- I told them about us, darling.

Come on. Take a bow.

Joan. What's going on out there? Hey!

Joan. Speak to me.

Well, I... How did you say

the weather in Chicago was?

I answered that once,

and it's too expensive to tell you again.

Well, all right, here it is,

straight from the shoulder. I...

Sorry, your three minutes are up.

Deposit another $2, please.

Operator, please, wait a minute.

Well, never mind, Joan.

You know how I am. I know how you are.

Chicago's fine.

No need to waste any more money.

- Goodbye. Thanks for calling.

- But...

Come, darling.

They want to see us together.

Hiya, Tommy.

Joan, you know Tommy Keenan?

- Oh, of course. How do you do?

- Hi.

Tommy, I'm a lucky man.

"To all the dream girls rolled into one

the moon, the stars, the earth, the sun"

Do you mind if I drink that champagne?

I've got to take a pill.

Have you? Do you feel poorly, Mr. Keenan?

Not yet. But I expect to in 39 minutes.

"I'm in clover, Tommy, the girl said yes

"My troubles are over

crowned with success"

I know. I know, Hit Parade, 1937.

Sorry, Brice. No offense,

but I can't get excited.

You've been engaged

to three different girls

in the last six weeks.

They were all clients of my press agents.

"There's only the future, forget the past

"When your heart sings

it's the real thing at last"

Hit Parade, 1940. You're catching up.

Nope. After a man bites a dog three times,

it's no longer news.

Unless you elope tonight. Las Vegas.

- Darling.

- But, darling, I couldn't possibly.

Take it from me, three-quarters of the fun

of getting married is getting married.

After that it's just routine.

How soon were you planning

on getting married anyway?

- Well...

- Three days. As soon as the law will allow.

- Yeah.

- Three days?

In three days

marriage may be unconstitutional.

Come on, the plane'll be on me.

Think of it, Allen, flying through the night

under the stars...

Wasn't there a lyric that went something...

Never mind. Listen.

News is scarce tonight.

You'll make the front pages

from coast to coast.

Do you think there's a chance

for a spread in the weekly magazines?

Weekly magazines, monthly magazines,

mail-order catalogs...

Darling, we'll never get married

under such favorable circumstances.

Oh, but, darling,

Father's in Chicago on business. And I...

He'll hear it on my broadcast.

Everybody listens to me.

They'll hear it in Europe, too.

Tommy's on shortwave.

- Yeah.

- Well, whatever you think best, darling.

"With you by my side, dear,

neither time nor tide..."

Hey, waiter. Bring me a telephone.

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