The Night They Raided Minsky's

- Oh, sir?

- Professor Spats.

Is this the section of Manhattan

that is spoke of as the East Side?

The Lower East Side.

Is this then the National Wintergarden?

Oh! I pray God will not be spited

I'm so full of joy.

- God doesn't uphold with joy?

- Oh, no. With deprivation only.

Papa says...

Could I move inside?

I'd feel safer ever.

- Hey, Chick, did you take a bath today?

- Why, is there one missing?

When you were sitting there in the dark,

and you felt that man's hand on your knee,

then again on the top of your stocking,

why, why didn't you scream for help?

How did I know he was after my money?

- That was one of my father's jokes.

- What are you, one of your mother's?

Say, weren't you up before me

two weeks ago?

I don't know, Your Honor.

What time do you get up?

Hey, what's the matter with you?

You got no feeling?

I've been to Niagara Falls before.

And that is all to tell.

My name is Rachel Schpitendavel.

I come from Smoketown, Pennsylvania.

Our family's Amish,

my father's an elder in the church,

and I want to be dancer on the stage.

And so you ran away from home.

This morning.

All the way to New York on a train.

It was so early.

I sat by all the windows, 26 of them.

I'm alone in New York,

but I'm not frightened at all.

I'm not one bit frightened.

Nurse! Nurse! Two guys come in here

and the big guy had a gun!

Don't be silly, boy,

it's all in your imagination.

Now, you just lie right down.

And remember, if you should want

the doctor, just call for me!

What a charming personality.

Wouldn't you like to powder my back?

I pictured always how it would be,

but never did I dream

it could be so beautiful.

Later, I'll take you backstage

to meet Mr. Minsky.

But, Papa. Papa, you don't understand.

Burlesque is supposed to be a little frank.

It has to be,

because it makes fun of life.

But dirty? Papa, nobody in his right mind

can say that.

They say it.

Forty years in this country

and the entire relationship

between the police department

and the Minsky family

you could express in two sentences,

"Good morning, Mr. Policeman."

"How are you, Mr. Minsky?"

I like this relationship.

It didn't need improvements.

But, Papa,

this isn't exactly the police.

This is the New York Society

for the Suppression of Vice.

If it smells like an elephant,

if it looks like an elephant,

it's an elephant.

Papa, you don't understand!

- You want to order something?

- No, no, I'm not hungry.

Papa, the Society has this man,

Vance Fowler.

Night and day this lunatic, this moron,

hangs around the theater,

writing in a little notebook.

If he writes, he sees.

Where there's smoke, there's salmon.

Papa, Papa, that's not true, Papa.

I'll prove it to you.

Papa, for me, for me, for your son,

see the show today, Papa.

At least see the second act.

It's a wonderful show, Papa.

Your lease is up Monday.

I'm not renewing. That's final.

Papa, have a heart. You're turning

your own son out into the street.

Just because I wouldn't renew the lease

doesn't mean I wouldn't sell you

the building.

But, Papa, two-hundred thousand dollars!

A hundred and ninety.

For my son, I'll take back

a small second. Eat.

- Raymond, this is stupid.

- Come on.

- May I have your attention, please?

- Louder.

May I have your attention, please?

Announcing the presence in your midst

of America's number-one straight man,

top personality in burlesque,

the inimitable Raymond Paine!

Applause! Applause!

Thank you, friends, thank you!

And may I say your sincerity

is exceeded only by your vulgarity.

Hiya, Billy. Hello, Mr. Minsky.

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