 The Lucky Strike program starring Jack Benny with Mary Livingston, Rochester, Dennis Day, Bob Crosby, and yours truly, Don Welleson. Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to bring you that... Hold it, hold it, Don. Jack isn't here. Gee, I just saw him a few minutes ago. Where is he? He just went in the other room to talk to his writers. Oh, boy, has Jack burned up. Oh, boy, those two guys get away with murder. They never have a program written till the last minute. Well, I'm going to see what's happening. Gee, he's always having trouble with his writers. Now, look, fellas, if I told you once, I told you a thousand times, you've got to have the program written before we go on the air. Every week, we just barely make it. Now today, look what happens. No script at all. Well, we were stuck this week. Yeah, we didn't have no inspiration. Oh, we did. Don't yell at me. I'll fly to pieces. I'm not yelling. I'm just asking you to work. That's all you're working for me. I'm paying you to work. And that's another thing. We want more dough. Well, you certainly picked the right time to ask me. You're getting plenty now. Why do you want more money? We want to get a room tonight. Well, you cut that out. A fine team of writers I've got. I've been looking for you all week. Where were you? Palm Springs. You're not supposed to be in Palm Springs. You're supposed to be here with me. Come on, Jack. We're waiting for you. Mary, I'll be there in a minute. Now look, fellas. Who's a dame? Who's? That's Mary Livingston. And she's not a dame. You've met her at least 400 times. Wait for Harry. You're a Harry. I'm Sam. Jack Benny, I'm glad to know you. Now look, fellas, we're on the air. So I'm going out and do the best I can. Meanwhile, you stay right here and prepare some kind of a play for us. Okay. Hey, how about a murder mystery? A murder mystery? Hey, you know where a guy comes home and he finds his wife in the arms of another man? The husband says, no, I got you. Why, Julius, what are you doing here? You don't know what I'm doing here. I didn't got a scram. Hide it up. Write anything. Just so we can have a program. Now bring it in as soon as possible. Okay. Give me the pencil, Harry. Well, you got it, Sam. I gave it to you yesterday. No, I give it back to you. Yeah, but after that, I put it in your pocket. Use my pencil. Now go to work. They go to Palm Springs and I have no broadcast. What's the matter, Jack? You having trouble with your writers again? Don, every week they're getting lazier. Now tonight, no material at all. Well, why don't you fire them? He can't. They dug up a photograph of Jack when he was in the third grade. What's wrong with that? He was the only kid with a mustache. It was just fuzz. You could hardly see it. Anyway, that picture has nothing to do with my writers. If this ever happens again, I will fire them. Well, Jack, if there's no script, what do we do now? We'll just have to stall. Say, Bob, how about a number from the boys in the band? Okay, but I'll need a couple of minutes to round them up. Oh, for heaven's sake, what's the matter with those fellas? The minute the introduction is over, they always disappear. Well, they don't have to play again. Unless Dennis sings a song and they get kind of restless sitting around on the bandstand. Oh, that's too bad. I want them on the stage throughout the show. Where are they? Well, some of them at that little bar across the street. And Bag B and Fletch and Kurtz, Bridwell and Sammy the drummer backstage in a gym game. Five of them? How can five play gym? Oh, Sammy doesn't play. They use his head to keep score on. Use his head to keep score? Yeah, after a long game, it looks like he's got hair. Bob, I hate to be a spoiled sport, but I wish you'd get the boys back on the stage. It is a shame, Bob. Look, Frankie Rammie's the only one on the stand. That's right. And you know why? Because Frankie takes an interest in the show. He's the only one of the whole bunch who's loyal and dependable and always on the job. Well, I'll wake him up and tell him that. But his eyes are open. Oh, Jack, don't tell me that trick of his has you fooled, too. What trick? He's got pupils painted on his eyelids. Gee, he must have taken a lot of trouble with them. They're bloodshot and everything. This isn't solving our problem. What can we do to fill time till the script is ready? Well, Jack, you ought to be able to do something. After all, you're the star of the show. But, Don, it's not that easy. I don't sing. I don't dance. I've never done imitations. Gee, I don't know what to do now. If it wasn't Sunday, you could take your money to the bank. Very funny, Miss Livingstone. Hello, everybody. Hey, what's everyone standing around for? Because we've got a problem, Dennis. My writers let me down this week. We've got no script, no jokes, nothing. What's the difference? Who listens? Wait a minute, Dennis. There are still millions of people listening to radio. It's still a big medium. More radios were sold this year than ever before. And anyone who's on a big show like this is still doing a very important job. Boy, did you sing a different tune when you cut my salary last September? I didn't cut your salary. You're still getting $80 a week like you did last year. Yeah, but what about that new clause you added? What new clause? The one that says a week is 14 days. How could you actually make Dennis sign a contract that has 14 days in a week? Because when he's around, it seems that long. Now, look, Dennis, as long as we're stuck without a script, how about doing your song now? Hey, I got a better idea. Why don't you and I ad-lib a little? You know, tune-fro? Ad-lib, not tune-fro. All right, Dennis, I'll start it. Where was that lady I saw you with last night? That was no saw. That was a battle ax. Come in. Telegrams, Mrs. Binney. Right here, fella. Thanks. Give him a tip, Jack. Oh, yes. Here you are, buddy. Say, you're rather old for a messenger boy, aren't you? You ain't gonna get the mumps anymore yourself, Bob. Give him a 50-cent tip. You gave him a dime. I gave him a quarter. I know what I gave him. Oh, it's from Fred Allen. She haven't heard from him in a long time. The dear Jack, have been listening to your show and have a suggestion that may help you fill remaining 20 minutes. Why not announce your retirement and let the audience take it from there? What a silly suggestion. Yeah, they'd applaud right through Amos and Andy. Never mind. I'm going out and see how my writers are coming along. If they're stalling, believe me. I know it's a good title for a murder mystery, but where's the play? Well, we got a lot of ideas, but we couldn't write them down. Why not? I gave you a pencil. Yeah, but there ain't no lead in it, say. Oh, there ain't no lead in it. Give me that pencil. Look, fellas, you turn this little knob here and out comes the lead. It's an automatic pencil. Oh, yeah. Hey, look, Sam, you turn this knob and the lead comes out. Hey, that's good. Let me turn it. No, I want to turn it. Come on. Just one. I don't have to turn it or at least write that mystery play, will you, fellas? Okay. Boy, if I ever get my hands on that picture, I'll fire him so fast they won't know what hit him. Well, Don, it'll be a few more minutes yet. What'll we do? I don't know what to talk about. Well, you're such a great comedian. Why don't you ad-lib something? Well, you're right. I will. You know, folks, a funny thing happened to me on the way to the studio. A panhandler came over to me and asked me for a quarter. He said he hadn't had a bite in two weeks. So you bit him? So I... That's the oldest joke in the world. All right, all right. Say, Jack, as long as we're waiting for the script, how about the sportsman doing a number? The sportsman quarter. May I have anything prepared? I'll ask him. Say, fellas, would you like to do your arrangement for Jack? A swell. They said no. They did not! Oh, keep that in the middle, Rochester. I'm very proud of that vase. You are? Yeah, there are only two vases like that in the entire world. And the only ones who have them are the King of Siam and me. Or is it the King and I? It's the King and the Junk Man. I just busted yours. I'm having enough trouble without you aggravating me. What's the matter? Well, my writers are late with the script, and I'm standing here with nothing to do. Too bad I'm not there. Well, what could you do? Sing, boss, sing. You sing with that voice? Don't knock it. Around Central Avenue, I'm known as that sentimental fellow with the mellow bellow, much with the Hall Johnson choir. What happened? Well, I'll talk to you later. So long, Rochester. Now go ahead, Don. Have the sportsmen do their number. I'm going in the other room and see how Hemingway and Steinbeck are doing. Okay. Get it, fellas. Me, me, and, and, my, my shadow, shadow, me, me, and, my shadow, strolling down the ass. Me, me, and, I'm proud that I'm a lucky from old Kentucky, strolling and me. I turn your troubles into smoke ring. Time for our play. So I'll take what you've got and you bring the rest in as soon as you can. Now give me those pages. Please give me those pages. All right. Please give me those pages. Now concentrate, will you, fellas? Fine thing. Grammar on the installment plan. Well, how's it look, Jack? We're going to do a play tonight? Yeah, but we'll have to do without a rehearsal. Here are your parts, kids. Now let's see. I'm going to be Captain O'Benney of police headquarters and Dennis, you'll be my assistant, Sergeant O'Day. Oh, thanks. Oh, welcome. Now, Mary, you're going to be the widow, Mrs. J. Malcolm Smith. The widow? Yes. Your husband has been killed, leaving you $3 million and a state in Santa Barbara and a yacht. And you're all broken up. Why? Does a yacht leak? No, you loved your husband. Now, let's see. Oh, Bob, you'll be the family chauffeur and, Don, you're going to be the bugler. Bugler? Oh, they must mean butler, some writer. You're the butler, Don. Well, so much for casting. And now, ladies and gentlemen, for our feature attraction this evening, we present an original mystery drama entitled The Murder of Malcolm Smith. Or he had an appointment with the dentist in the afternoon, but he was drilled in the morning. It's not such a bad title. I think I'll get the boys a room tonight. Well, let's go, fellas. The opening scene is the office of Detective Captain O'Benney at police headquarters. Curtain. Music. Is this the theme music for a murder mystery? Mighty like a rose? Well, that's what your writers gave me. Hmm. Maybe that's the name of the murderer. Who, Rose? No, Mighty. Well, OK, Bob, play what they gave you. Start it again, will you? Hey, Sergeant O'Day. Sergeant O'Day. Ah! With the First National Bank? Yes, sir. But were there any suspicious characters around? No, the furniture movers told me they hadn't seen anybody. Furniture movers? Yeah, the two fellas were the same. Those were the burglars. What's the matter with you, anyway? I'll take it. Hello, police headquarters. Hello, this is Mrs. J. Malcolm Smith talking. Yes? My husband J. Malcolm Smith, wealthy stockbroker of New York, Palm Beach, Miami, heir to the millions left by his father, has been killed. That's shocking news, Mrs. Smith. Are you sure your husband is dead? Definitely. We'll be there in five minutes. Goodbye. What's up, Chef? J. Malcolm Stock, the Smith broker, has been murdered. They can't even type strength. Hand me my gun. Shall I take the bandage off? Of course. I want to use it to roast marshmallows. Also, take that accent off. Now, let's get going. This is an important case, Sergeant O'Day, and we're going to find the murderer of J. Malcolm Smith, or...or...or what? Or nothing. We're all out of script. Fellas, hurry up with the rest of this, will ya? Play something, Bob. They couldn't even finish a sentence. All right, Bob. Hey, here's a few more pages, Jack. I'll go back and get to work. We got a union, you know. We're going out to eat. Not until you finish the script. Okay, Blue Eyes. Even my writers noticed them. This is an important case, Sergeant O'Day, and we're going to find the murderer of J. Malcolm Smith, or my name ain't Captain O'Day. I could have thought of that myself. Wait till we get in the car! Stupid sound man. Today I'll drive. Come on, O'Day, let's smash that door. Did you ring in the library whom shall I announce? The king and the junk man. Here she is now. Pardon me. Are you Mrs. J. Malcolm Smith? Yes, Captain. Tell me, what do you know about the murder of your husband? Well, we were sitting here in the library listening to the radio. When all of a sudden I turned around and there was my husband on the floor with five bullet holes in him. You're lying. Here's a body, and he was only shot one, two, three, four times. Now count them. I want the truth. You killed your husband and I know why. You murdered your husband because... Oh, fine, we're stuck again. All right, Bob. All right, boys, some more pages. Hey, ya speedy. Thanks. Let's see here. Oh, yes. Now listen, Mrs. Smith, you murdered your husband because there's another man in the case. Now tell me, who's your lover? Who is he? Well, what's going on here? Hello, darling. Who are these men? They're detectives, darling. Ah-ha, the other man. What's your name? My card, sir. Darling Crosby. What's your connection with this family? I'm the chauffeur. I see. How'd you get along with Mr. Smith? Don't answer him, dear. Dear, eh? That's my middle name. Are you taking everything down, Sergeant O'Day? Yeah, honey. That's my middle name. Yes, now you. You still haven't told me how you got along with Mr. Smith. Well, frankly, sir, we didn't get along very well. You didn't, eh? He's been very suspicious of Mrs. Smith and me ever since she hired me for her chauffeur. Well, what made him suspicious? She didn't have a car. Now, one of you two is responsible for the murder of J. Malcolm Smith. Yeah, but which one? You can't arrest both of us. Don't get smart with me. I know who the murderer is. It's...it's... Oh, for Pete's sake. Come on. What do I want? I want the finish of the play. I want to know who the murderer is. Oh, that's what we're arguing about. Arguing? Yeah, I say it's the dame. And I say it's gotta be the chauffeur. But, fella... Sam, how can you be so stupid? Look at the motives. The motives. The dame had all the motives. The chauffeur. But if he didn't have any motives... You keep out of there. That a destructive fire starts every minute of the day and night. There's no end in sight for the terrible destruction caused by these fires unless we do something about it. Here's what you can do. Check all the electrical equipment in your home. Make certain it is safe. Don't smoke in bed. Be sure that every match, every cigarette is out before you retire for the night. Don't give fire a place to start. Thank you. Jack will be back in just a minute. But first, here's the sweetheart of Lucky Strike, Miss Dorothy Collins. If you want better taste from your cigarette Lucky Strike is the brand to get It's toasted to give you the best taste Yet it's the toasted Toasted cigarette They take fine tobacco It's light tobacco It's mild tobacco too And it's toasted Yes, it's toasted Cause the toasting brings the flavor right So to get better taste from your cigarette Lucky Strike is the brand to get It's toasted to give you the best taste Yet it's the toasted Toasted cigarette Friends, that song gives you the big reason why so many millions of smokers always ask for Lucky Strike A Lucky Taste Better It's toasted to taste better The better taste of Lucky Strike begins with fine tobacco Why, sure, L-S-M-F-T Lucky Strike means fine tobacco But there's even more to it than that Just before it's made into Lucky Strike cigarettes That fine tobacco is toasted The famous Lucky Strike process, it's toasted Tones up Lucky's mild, naturally good tasting tobacco To make it taste even better Cleaner, fresher, smoother That's the Lucky Strike story pure and simple And why you'll enjoy them A Lucky Taste Better Because it's the cigarette of fine tobacco And it's toasted to taste better So get a carton of better tasting Lucky Strike It's me, Rochester Boy, what a day My writers didn't have a script for me The show was crazy All Yorkshire could play was mighty like a rose And on top of all that I tipped a telegraph boy a quarter And he turned around and insulted me I feel awful Boss, look in the mirror Look in the mirror Well, I'll be darned, I've got the mumps The Jack Benny program is written by Sam Perrin, Milt Josephsburg, George Balzer John Fackeberry, Al Gordon, Al Goldman And produced and transcribed by Hilliard Marks Filter smokers, here's the true Tobacco taste you've been looking for Filter Tip Tarleton gives you all the Full, rich flavor of Tarleton's Famous quality tobacco And real filtration too Filter Tip Tarleton incorporates activated charcoal Renowned for its unusual powers of selective filtration And used far and wide to purify The air we breathe, the water and beverages we drink Look for the red, white and blue stripes on the package They identify Filter Tip Tarleton The best in filtered smoking The Jack Benny program is brought to you By the American Tobacco Company America's leading manufacturer of cigarettes