It's Alive Page #4

This station has acquired

exclusive information

naming Mr. and Mrs. Frank

Davis of West Los Angeles

as the parents

of the infant in question.

The whereabouts of the

newborn child are not known.

They named us.

The bastards, they named us.

Barbara, Babara would you

come here for a minute, please?

Yes, sir?

Barbara, I have to pick up my

wife at the hospital tonight,

so can you reschedule

that Sturbridge dinner

for tomorrow evening?

I think that Mr. Clayton

wants to talk to you.

And about the Marcus affair,

I think we can

have those cocktails

at 6:
30 at the Hilton tomorrow.

I know he wants

to approve the campaign

by the end of the week.

I think you'd better

see Mr. Clayton now.

I'll be right back.

Well well, come on in.

All right, Bob.

You must be exhausted,

you eaten anything?

Get Frank a couple of

poached eggs

on an English muffin with

a side of Canadian bacon,

and a tall glass of

freshly-squeezed orange juice.

That should do the trick.

I don't want you

collapsing on me here.

Look, Frank, don't let it

get you down.

These things happen.

At least, that's what they say.

Who's "they"?

I spoke to the hospital.

They give you information?

I got connections over there,

you know.

I'm the Vice Chairman of

the fundraising committee.

Hey listen, If there's any

little thing I can do for you--

No, jeez, thanks, Bob.

I'm getting her out of

there myself tonight.

You think that's wise?

Hey, uh, Barbara told me

you want to rap with me.

Yeah, Frank.

Frank, you, uh...

you've accrued

three weeks' vacation.

Yeah?

You think it would be a good

idea if you took it now?

I can't, Bob.

I've got the Marcus account

and the Sturbridge campaign.

L'm--

I'm just bogged down in work.

Besides, I need to work, Bob,

it keeps my mind off things.

But Frank, we're running a

public relations business here.

Our job is creating an image.

Right now, um,

you're a little controversial.

Our clients want their

PR men to be anonymous.

Maybe after a little while,

when you're less of a celebrity.

You're not taking those

accounts away from me, are you?

I mean, not now.

At the last minute?

These things happen, Frank.

Look, you know O'Connors

down in Accounting?

He's got a retarded kid,

insists on keeping him

in the house, too.

Nobody thinks a thing of

that, nobody blames him.

We're not-- we're not

talking about a retarded kid,

and you know it.

We're talking about a

monstrosity of some kind.

Yeah, well... maybe we'd

better not talk about that, huh?

Bob,

I wouldn't wish this

on my worst enemy.

It's just that I... I don't

know what to do, Bob,

how to behave.

And they're,

putting microphones in my face.

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