The Front Page Page #5

I went to the office

and told Walter Burns

he could take his job and...

Then I picked up the rings,

the train tickets,

and I've almost

finished packin'.

Did you remember

to pack your raincoat?

Well, who packs a raincoat?

I'm gonna carry it

over my arm, just in case.

Just in case?

Oh, Hildy, You don't need

a wife, you need a doctor.

Look, I feel

very sorry for you,

but I just couldn't live

with that kind of a problem.

That's tellin' him.

Now, just hang up.

Uh, honey,

w-w-what's the matter?

I-- I don't understand you.

What have I done?

Your probation officer

is right here with me.

Probation officer?

I don't know any probation...

He said what?

Me? Oh, now wait a minute,

honey. Well...

Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.

What does this guy look like?

Never mind.

I'll describe him to you.

About 6'3", huge feet,

mean little eyes,

and a nose like a pickle.

Right?

You want to know who that is?

Honey, you're not

gonna believe this.

Walter Burns,

that conniving son of a...

Well, I better be

running along now.

I have a couple of

other cases to look into.

Uh, just a minute.

Hildy would like

to speak to you.

Not now.

I have to check up on the candy man.

We call him that

because he hangs around schoolyards.

Here.

Hello. Fishbein speaking.

Fishbein, huh? Listen,

you lousy baboon.

You better start

wearing cast-iron shorts

because the next time

I see you,

I'm gonna bury my shoe

up your ass.

Come on, Hildy.

You used to be able to take a joke

before you went into

the advertising business.

Of all of the lowdown,

stinking...

You'd wreck my marriage

just to keep me

on that crummy paper

of yours?

Hildy, all I'm asking

is that you postpone it for 24 hours.

Just cover this hanging

for me.

Mr. Burns, I wouldn't cover

the last supper for you

if they held it in the pump room

of the Ambassador East.

Now, you get the hell off the phone

and let me speak to my girl.

All right. All right.

The flasher wants to talk to you.

That was a rotten thing

to do.

It was for your own good,

believe me.

Marry an undertaker,

marry a blackjack dealer,

marry a pickpocket,

but never marry a newspaperman.

That's why

I'm making him quit.

You can't make a leopard

change its spots,

or hitch a fire horse

to a milk wagon.

He'll be like a fish

out of water.

We'll take our chances.

Now, if you don't mind.

Just a friendly warning.

That's my wedding present to you.

Darling, I'm sorry.

I should've known better,

but he just sounded

so convincing.

I finish my last show at 9:15.

Will you pick me up?

Tell Hildy I wish him

all the luck in the world and I mean it

or my name

isn't Otto Fishbein.

A dime.

Make it two bits.

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