Designing Woman

My name's Mike Hagen.

I'm a sportswriter.

If you read the papers,

maybe you've heard of me.

I was involved in that ruckus up in Boston.

A lot of people have asked me

for the facts about that affair.

I certainly have no objection

to telling my side of it.

Still, the story wouldn't be complete...

...unless you heard from some

of the others involved, like...

...Marilla.

I imagine Marilla

might have something to say.

I have a good deaI to say.

Not only about my side of it,

but about Mike's, too.

Because Mike doesn't always tell the truth.

Not that he means to lie or anything,

but, well, you have to know Mike.

Then, of course, there's someone else...

...who could shed considerable light

on things...

...if she will.

I'm Lori Shannon.

I really have very little to tell.

I was involved, of course,

but in quite an innocent way.

Not everybody believed that.

But I'm sure Zachary Wilde does.

Look, frankly,

I'd like to keep out of the whole mess.

However, there is another witness.

A man named Maxie Stulz.

I'm sure he could be very informative.

Yeah, I want to tell everything I know,

the whole truth.

Because I was always a good standup boy.

Honest fighter.

I was champion for three years.

I'm making a comeback now.

So...

...I want to tell everything I know,

everything.

Let me think now.

I don't know anything.

The whole thing began out in Beverly Hills,

the night of the California Invitational...

...a golf tournament.

I'd picked Johnny Strawn

in the sportswriters' Calcutta...

...a sort of lottery.

And I'd won myself $1,200.

So I was buying that night and feeling fine.

Just fine.

Hey, Mike. I want to ask Mike.

Come here.

Mike, tell the guy about the guy

that wears the glasses and the umpire...

I say Johnny Strawn will be the best golfer

in America in 10 years.

What do you think of that?

I was feeling just fine the next morning.

It was noon.

I'd been up about half an hour...

...showering, shaving and breakfasting

on a small tin of aspirin.

Nothing helped.

Let's see now.

Up until 10:
00 the night before,

everything was crystal clear.

I was having some drinks

with some newspaper friends...

...celebrating the $1,200 I'd won.

$1,200.

All I had now was three $10s

and a handful of silver.

Going down.

Some newspapermen drink too much.

Hi, boy.

Hi, Larry.

- How do you feeI?

- Yeah.

How did you handle the story yesterday?

The story. The California InvitationaI.

Remember?

You didn't forget to file your copy?

Since when have I ever forgotten

to file my copy?

There's always a first time.

My copy. Had I forgotten it?

A lead flashed in front of my eyes.

"Johnny Strawn...

"... the Gill-Sized Giant of Golfdom...

"... Smashes His Way to Victory

With a Sizzling 66. "

Had I written those words somewhere,

sometime?

Had I dreamed them?

Miss.

- Yes, sir?

- I'd like to see a copy of a long wire...

...that I sent to The New York Record

late last night or 2:00 or 3:00 this morning.

- Are you sick, mister?

- The wire, please.

Yes, sir.

Well, let's see:
The New York Times,

The New York Herald Tribune.

The New York Record.

The greatest golf story of the decade,

and I'd fluffed it.

My career was ruined.

Coffee. That's what I needed, coffee.

Seven or eight pots of coffee,

in a quiet locale...

...where I could think up a good lie

for my editor.

Coffee. Please.

There he was.

My character of the night before.

Mr. Michael Hagen.

I thought he saw me, too,

so I gave him a friendly wave.

My character seemed

a little subdued this morning.

It never occurred to me

that my character...

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