 R.C.A. Victor, world leader in radio, first in recorded music, first in television, proudly presents... Night for the first time on the air, the motion picture comedy, It's in the bag, starring Fred Allen in his original role of Fred Flughel. At this point, ladies and gentlemen, the star usually tells the story of his life. Well, the story of my life can be told very briefly. I was born, obviously. I lived, and I'm here tonight. Our story tonight can also be told very briefly. It's in the bag is a murder mystery, and the name of the killer is Monty the Garniff. Well, that's all there is to the story. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, and good night. Good night. Hey, Mr. Allen, Mr. Allen. Monty the Garniff, what's on your mind? Is she going to let me kill nobody? Well, no, not tonight, Monty. Hey, you can't get away with this, Allen. I got a contract with Moiter Incorporated. Really? If I don't kill somebody in this program, the union will pull out every Moiter show on a network. Well, gee, I didn't know you were organized that well, Monty. We don't want any trouble. No picketing. All right, we'll go ahead with the program. Jimmy Wallington, will you set the scene, please? All right, Fred. Ladies and gentlemen, it's in the bag is the story of Fred Flughel, a flea trader who lived a simple life with his wife, his son, and his fleas. As our story opens, we find our hero in front of his combination flea circus at home, going about his business. Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry, folks. See the greatest flea circus of all time. See Sandow, the mighty strongman flea. See Rockefeller, the richest flea in the world. Rockefeller saved his money and retired and bought himself his own dog. Now, just a minute. Just a minute, Junior. Where's your ticket? What ticket? Pop, I'm your son, Homer. Oh, I thought you were one of the fleas with the hat on. Excuse me, sir. Say, what have you got in that bag? Nothing, Pop. Let me see. Why, you little saboteur, your father's a flea trader and you're coming home with a jar of insecticide. Homer, help. Fred, I sent Homer for that insecticide. Tell him, Ma. My mother warned me not to marry a flea trader. A flea trader. I won't always be a flea trader. There are millionaires in my family. One more feet in millionaire. Homer, don't talk that way about my uncle. One of these days, my uncle Trumbull may make out his will in my favor and drop dead. That's what I say, Flugel. Drop dead. Come on, T. The Gunner. Fred Flugel, have you been playing the horses again? Eve, just because my bookmaker is here with a blackjack in one hand and an open razor in the other hand, does that mean I'm playing the horses? How much do you owe him? Uh, eight bucks. Now, don't worry, Mrs. Flugel. Oh, I'm not worrying. If Pop don't pay you money, can I watch you break his ribs? Who needs his ribs? I need them. How will I look walking around in my bare lungs? Flugel, from now on, you have got unlimited credit with me. Just look at this story in tonight's paper. Is this the paper? Let me see. Millionaire dies of acute indigestion. Trumbel Flugel leaves nephew Fred Flugel $12 million. $12 million? No more fleas. We can live in luxury. Luxury is right. From now on, we'll all wear underwear. Gentlemen, please, one at a time. Mr. Flugel, you've ordered a 20-room mansion for your wife. I know. You ordered a rhinestone Cadillac for yourself. Yeah, how about something for your little boy? Have you got a nice sharp bear trap? Well, I got one with four prongs. I'll take it. Oh, excuse me, gentlemen. This may be my bookmaker. Hello? Yes, Monty? I'm betting $500 on Flying Max across the board at Belmont. No, I know. Yes, I know. That's $10,000 I owe you. My uncle's money? Well, no, I haven't got it yet. But this afternoon, I'm seeing my uncle's lawyer, Mr. Jefferson T. Pike. Please be seated, Mr. Flugel. Oh, thank you, Mr. Pike. My uncle's lawyer, I'm sorry to inform you that there has been an unexpected development. Unexpected development? I'm still heir to my uncle's estate, sir. Oh, yes, yes, indeed. But I'm afraid, Mr. Flugel, that the estate isn't quite the $12 million the paper said it was. Well, what did my uncle leave me? Four antique chairs. Four antique chairs? Mr. Pike, what happened to that $12 million? Your uncle had an unfortunate vice. What was it? He played pinball machines. Well, how could my uncle lose $12 million playing pinball machines? He tilted. Where's that can of insecticide? I'm going to end it all. Oh, cheer up, Red. It could be worse. Worse? How could it be worse? I lost $12 million. I owe for a mansion, a rhinestone Cadillac that I can't pay for. Flying Max ran last at Belmont. And I got my hand caught in a bear trap. I got four chairs here for Mr. Flugel. Take them away. Feed them to the termites. But, Pop, those chairs are Louis XIV. Tell Louis to come and get them out of here. Look, maybe I can raise some money on them, Pop. How, Homer? Finley's auction power sells antiques like these for $50. Hey, four chairs, $50? That's $200. Homer, get down to Finley's with those chairs. Okay, Pop. $200. Eve, where's my racing form? Fred, are you crazy? You owe money to God of $10,000 now. Where's... Come in. Fred Flugel. Yes? I'm Public Eye Peckens. You're a policeman? Yeah. Fred Flugel, you're suspected of murder. Who's murder? Trumbull Flugel. He was your uncle. I know he was my uncle, but he died of indigestion. Something he ate. What he ate was insecticide. Insecticide. Your uncle was poison. That's ridiculous. Ridiculous. Why would Fred kill his own uncle? Who has left $12 million in his uncle's will, Fred Flugel? $12 million? All I got was four chairs. Four chairs, eh? Flugel, before Public Eye Peckens is through with you, you won't need no chairs. No. You'll need a hammock. A hammock? Flugel, you're gonna swing. This is ridiculous. Trying to make me a murder suspect. What are you worried about? They're trying to make me a widow. Yes? Fred Flugel. Yes? I'm from the last national bank. The last national bank? Your uncle Trumbull left this package to be delivered to you after his death. Sign here. There you are. Thank you. Fred, from the bank. It must be money. Money, money, Eve, I'll tear it open. Well, I'll be... Look at this. A phonograph record. Summer State. Four chairs and a phonograph record. A phonograph. Well, we might as well play it. With my luck, it'll probably be Margaret Truman singing mule train. Put the record on the machine. All right. I'll get the needle down here. Dear nephew, this is your uncle Trumbull. My uncle Trumbull? Yes. I am speaking to you from the grave. But uncle... Quiet, please. I'm talking. Yes, sir. If I died under suspicious circumstances, you must bring my murderer to justice. Yes, sir. The evidence has been concealed along with $300,000. Where? It is in one of the four chairs I left you in my will. Avenge me, my boy. Goodbye. Goodbye, uncle Trumbull. Eve, $300,000. It's in the chairs. Where are the chairs? What happened to those chairs? Congratulate me, Pop. I sold them. You sold what? The chairs. Friendly auction them off. So, my own son steals four chairs and sells them to a crooked antique dealer. Who bought them? Who bought those chairs? What's all the excitement? Excitement. I haven't got a cent to my name. I owe Monty the gun of $10,000 and I'm accused of murder. The only thing that can save me is the $300,000 and the evidence in one of those chairs. Homer, do you realize what will happen to your father? Yes, Homer. If I don't get the right chair... You'll get the electric chair. I'm listening to the screen director's playhouse production of It's in the Bag starring Fred Allen and presented by RCA Victor. I'll tell you something else that's in the bag. That quality television set you've been wishing you could afford. When you see the amazingly low price tags on RCA Victor's 14 brand new 1950 television models, you'll realize that money need no longer stand between you and your true love. Let's say you have roughly what two or three years ago would have bought only a 10-inch open-face console. Today it can buy one of the most beautiful 16-inch consoles ever created, the TC168. This console has a cabinet of exquisite provincial design with paneled cathedral doors. In appearance, it's like a masterpiece out of the 18th century. And in performance, it's like a masterpiece out of the 21st century. For the pictures you see on its wide 16-inch screen seem to have leaped half a century in brightness and clarity. This beautiful console is typical of the 14 new televisions of delight waiting for you right now at your RCA Victor dealers. Now back to the screen director's playhouse production of It's in the Bag starring Fred Allen and his original role of Fred Flughel. Trouble still pursues Fred Flughel. Ex-flee trainer, ex-millionaire. He was accused of his uncle's murder, penniless, in debt to a heartless bookmaker. Flughel has summoned his late uncle's lawyer, Jefferson T. Pike, to his home. Have you any other suggestions, Mr. Pike? Well, if I were in your boots, I'd confess. Confess what? I'm not guilty. Oh, not guilty. How many times have I heard my client say that, even as I was helping the warden strap them in the electric chair? But surely, Mr. Pike, you don't think my husband is guilty? Until I get my retainer, madam, every client is guilty. Mr. Pike, you'll get your retainer. As soon as Finley's auction parlor finds those four chairs, I'll have the evidence and $300,000. $300,000? I'll start preparing your defense immediately. Are you going back to the office? No, I'm going down to Finley's auction parlor. Well, happy mandibles. Some lawyer, when he gets through with this case, one of the chairs will go to the chair. Come in. Hello, Flughel. Monty, the conif again. Flughel, there is a difference between you and me. What's the difference, Monty? $10,000. Now, look, look, Monty. You and that phony newspaper story, your uncle dying leaving you $12 million. But Monty... If I don't get my money by six o'clock tonight, there's going to be another difference between you and me. What difference? I'm going to be livin'. Monty, you'll get your money. I'll have $300,000. $300,000? When? As soon as I find that chair, I'm waiting to hear from Finley's auction parlor now. Okay, Flughel, give me a ring. Where will you be? At Finley's auction parlor. Eve, I've got to get that money before six o'clock. I wonder what's keeping Homer. Come in. Public eye, Perkins. Just checkin' up, Flughel. I never lose sight of a murder suspect. But Fred didn't commit the murder. Oh, no, his uncle didn't die from playin' leaf frog. Look, Perkins, I can prove that I'm innocent. As soon as I find the evidence. And where's the evidence? It's in one of the chairs with $300,000. $300,000? We're waiting to hear from Finley's auction parlor now. Okay, Flughel, I'm closin' in. On the murderer? No, on Finley's auction parlor. Ed, finding that chair is going to be like looking for a lost tooth at an Elk's convention. Oh, the telephone. Maybe it's good news. I hope so. Hello? This is Homer, Pop. Eve, it's Homer. What did he find out? Homer, did you find out who bought the chairs? Findin' that chair is gonna be like looking for a lost tooth at an Elk's convention. Homer, we already told that joke. You weren't here. Oh, well, Finley is tryin' to remember who bought the chairs at the auction. Well, tell Finley to concentrate. Tell Finley to try and remember one at a time. Well, he says some guy came in and bought the first chair for a prize in a radio program. A giveaway program? Yeah, it's called Break the Sponsor. So long, Pop. Nice work, Homer. Eve, one of those chairs is on a quiz show. Where's my hat? Fred, a radio quiz. They'll ask you a million questions. Eve, for $300,000, I've got all the answers. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is Break the Sponsor. And now our next contestant. And what is your name, sir? Fred Flugo, senior. What is your occupation, Mr. Flugo? I'm a flea trainer. And how did you become a flea trainer? I started from scratch. Well, Mr. Flugo, what category have you chosen? Geography, sir. That's very good. Are you ready for the first question? As the flea said, when he jumped on the dog, I'll bite. Why, Mr. Flugo, you're funnier than Arthur Godfrey. Who isn't? All right, Mr. Flugo, here's our first question. Where is the capital of the United States? Most of it is in Europe. Congratulations, Mr. Flugo. You've won the Jumbo Jackpot Prize. Oh, good for me, sir. Yes, sir. And now, sir, you can have your choice of any piece of merchandise on the stage. Well, I'll take that in the corner there, that Louis XIV's chair. Uh, wouldn't you rather have this turtleneck raccoon coat? No, no, I'd rather have the chair. How about a lifetime supply of Venetian blinds? Oh, I wouldn't live long enough to raise them. No, I'd rather have them. Well, uh, how about a two-week trip to Death Valley, complete with paw-bearers? No, no. Look, just no other prizes if you don't mind. Just the Jumbo, leave out the Jackpot. All I want is that Louis XIV's chair. Louis XIV? Hey, Mr. Flugo, what do you want with that old chair? I am going to take it apart. How? I am going to hit you over the head with it. Oh, wow! There's nothing here. It's the wrong chair. The wrong chair? There's no evidence. No $300,000. $300,000? You hit me on the head to get $300,000? I'm sorry, sir. Sorry! Mr. Flugo, you've just invented Radio's newest game! Hit the announcer on the head! Oh, Homer, I'm certainly glad you called us on the phone. Well, there was nothing in the first chair, huh, Pop? No, it was a waste of time. I won the Jumbo Jackpot, and I got the chair. There was nothing in it. Did you get any more information out of Finley? Yeah, he says he sold the second chair to Dr. Klutz, a psychiatrist. Klutz, how do you spell Klutz? With a small K, do you know? K-L-U-T-Z, I think. Klutz, have you got to give me that psychiatrist address, Homer? Dr. Klutz, I'm here by appointment, sir. My name is Fred... My name is Fred Flugo. Just lie down on the couch, Mr. Flugo. Doctor, I came to see you about a chair. Mr. Flugo, you come to a psychiatrist, you lie down on the couch. Chairs is for midgets. Well, no, no, I'm not a midget, as you could see if you have your glasses on. You don't understand, Doctor. Doctor, I have a problem. I put it on the couch. Well, all right, I'll lie down. Just let me relax a second, Doctor. Doctor, I am in trouble. You think you got troubles? Get up from the couch. Why? Let me lie down. Now I will tell you some troubles. All right. Last week, one of my patients, a stock salesman, he's saying to me, Dr. Klutz, because that's my name, Dr. Klutz, invest all of your money with me. Together, we will dig an oil well. An oil well? And you lost everything in the oil well? Today, I don't know my money from the hole in the ground. Oh, that's too bad. You want to hear more troubles, Flugo? No, no, Dr. Klutz. All I want to do is examine this Louis XIV chair in the corner here. God, it's the wrong chair. There's nothing in it. But you're up to pieces. It's all right. Don't lose your head, Doctor. I'll send you a check for $25 to have it reupholstered. $25 they get for upholstery? Yes, Doctor. Doctor, where are you going? Goodbye, psychiatry. Hello, upholstery. Eve, that psychiatrist was a waste of time. Klutz, remind me not to go to him in the future. All right, now don't take off your hat. Homer just phoned from the auction parlor. Good. Finley found the third chair? Yes. It was sold to a gypsy mind reader named Sarah the Psychic. Some customers go to this auction parlor. Madam, you, you are Sarah the Psychic? Fred Flugo, I could tell you all the secrets of the past, present and the future. If only... If only what? If only I could remember where I put my crystal ball. Well, look, Sarah the Psychic, maybe you could fake it. I am Sarah the Psychic. I am here. You do not have to tell me why you are here. I can read your mind. Oh, I did not realize my skull was that thin. You came for a chair. Uncanny. Fred Flugo. Yes. Sarah the Psychic knows all. The chair is empty. You mean I came here for nothing? Not for nothing, kid. That will be $15. $15. $5 for reading your mind. And? $10 for reading the chair. What's new, Pop? Homer, there was nothing in the third chair either. Then it must be in the chair the guy just brought back here to Finley's. The fourth chair. Homer, bring that chair home at once. Pop, I haven't got any money. Homer, look, listen to your father carefully. All right. Here's what you do. Breathe on Finley's glasses. He'll think he's in Los Angeles. Grab that chair and run. I will pop the last chair. Ah, and that chair is $300,000 and the evidence against my uncle's killer. Don't touch that chair, Flugo. Pop, it's Monty the Gunner. But Monty, the $10,000 I owe you is in that chair. Flugo, I'm taking all to loot the whole 300 grand. Stand aside. Don't move, Monty the Gunner, if I got you covered. Public eye, Perkins, what a capture. Flugo, you're under arrest too. I'm taking you in for the theft of this chair from Finley's auction parlour. Drop that gun, Berkins. Spread it, your uncle's lawyer. Jefferson T. Pike. I'm taking that chair, Flugo, and the money and the evidence. The evidence, then you, Jefferson T. Pike, you are my uncle's murderer. That's impossible. Why? Because at the beginning of the program, you said the murderer was Monty the Gunner. Well, that, Mr. Pike, was to throw you off the track. You murdered Uncle Trumbull because you knew that he knew that you were stealing from his estate. The only proof of that is in the bottom of this chair. Nobody move. I'm going to rip off the lining, and then I'll... Grab his gun, Pop. I've got it, Homer. Now, Mr. Jefferson T. Pike, up with your hand. I can't take it off. Take it off. Take what off? He's caught in my bed trap. Homer, you mean? Oh, sure, Pop. I saw all three of these guys snooping around in back of Finley's auction parlour, so when I brought the chair back here, I put the trap in the lining, just in case. Public eye, Perkins. You in person, sir. Take them away. Oh, boy, two of them. My first double dandy capture. Well, Eve, with Pike and Monty out of the way, there's nothing to prevent us, Homer and all of us, from enjoying Uncle Trumbull's money. Oh, thanks, Pop. Pull it out of the chair. I'm just going to do that this very minute, son. Now, let me see why there's nothing in here but an old envelope. It must be a bank draft. No, it isn't, Eve. It's a letter. Listen, my dear nephew, in my phonograph record, I forgot to say that the $300,000 would not be in cash. It is tied up in a murder story, I wrote, which I am sure that you can sell to the movies. The name of my story is, It's in the Bag, and it starts with a fellow standing in front of a flea circus yelling, Harry, Harry, Harry, folks, see the greatest flea circus of all time. Oh, no, we don't have to go through all that again. Let's go, Homer, as one Siamese twin said to the other one as they prepared to sit down, this is the end for both of us. You have just heard the last act of, It's in the Bag. Our star, Fred Allen, and our guest screen director, Richard Wallace, will be with us in just a moment. In weeks to come on Screen Director's Playhouse, you'll be entertained by such other great stars as Bob Hope, Jane Russell, Joseph Cotton, and Kirk Douglas. And next Friday, a brilliant young actress brings a well-remembered performance to Screen Director's Playhouse. Our story for the first time on the air is incendiary blonde, and recreating her original role will be Betty Hutton with Screen Director George Marshall. Now, here to get us a night star, Fred Allen. Well, Fred, you always have your finger on the nation's pulse, so I suppose you know the big news in recorded music that RCA Victor's new 45 RPM system is sweeping the country, that RCA Victor is making over 65,000 automatic record changers and over 2 million records every month, and people are still yelling for more. Well, that's just what my RCA Victor dealer in New York tells me, Jimmy. He claims the 45 is a mob collector. Every morning, he just unlocks the door and jumps back out of the way. Well, what do you think accounts for this swing to the 45? Well, I can only tell you what swang me, Jimmy. What is that, friend? The smalls is a minor executive loose pulling something. The thing that swung me, Jimmy, is the small size of the 45 records, that's what. My big 78 records were driving me out of house and home. I had a stack of records eight feet high in the back of my clothes closet, and whenever I reached for a necktie, I was always running my head through a tune and vice versa. Yes, you're right, Fred. The 45s are so tiny, you can line up 150 records on one foot of bookshelf. How many do you have? Oh, about three feet and a couple of toes, I say. I suppose you judge the musical qualities of the 45 before going in for it so heavily. Yes, I did indeed, Jimmy. I replied to Jack, or as I prefer to say, the yasha test of musical quality. The yasha test? What's that, Fred? Well, Jimmy, it consists of four questions, which all real music lovers always ask about any record system. Is yasha hyphets on it? Is yasha Benny not on it? Is yasha Eigen for it? Well, the answer to all those questions is yasha. Really? Seriously, Fred, though. I'll be closing the curtains again. Well, Fred, I was about to mention that the 45 gives you a wealth of music with the finest tone quality ever achieved in recording. Over 2,100 titles by the world's greatest artists and the stars who make the hits. So, wait a minute. Wasn't there a fourth yasha question? Yes, Jimmy, does this system save a man and a yasha? I mean, Jack, translate. Oh, by yes, Fred, the 45 is the least expensive automatic record changer ever made. Crisis start is low as $12.95 for the record changer, $29.95 for the Victoria 45, and records as low as $0.46. Friends, there's every reason in the world to visit your RCA Victor dealers and join the swing to the 45. Ladies and gentlemen, many of you have wondered what a screen director really does. Well, when a studio makes a picture like it's in the bag and the star leaves town in a hurry, the screen director is the fellow who stays in Hollywood and takes the blame. And just when people are beginning to forget about it, somebody says, folks, I'd like to have you meet the director of It's in the Bag and the creator of such fine films as Shopworn Angel and Tycoon, Mr. Richard Wallace. Thanks, Fred. You know, I haven't seen you in any other picture since it's in the bag. Well, Dick, Hollywood had me. Hollywood threw me back to radio. And that's how people started watching television. Fred, I thought you were fine in pictures. Well, those are very kind words, Richard, from a man who's directed over a hundred movies. Tell me, confidentially, how did I photograph? Fred, our handsome, misleading men have to be especially photographed to find their best camera angles. We never had that trouble with you. How do we photograph you? I know. I was all angles. Well, Dick, next time we make a picture together, you can photograph me with a sack over my head and we can call it, It's in the Bag Again. Okay, Fred, but next time I'll leave town and you take the blame. It's a deal. Good night, Dick. Good night, Fred. Good night, everyone. Good night to you, Fred Allen and Richard Wallace. Remember next Friday, Betty Hutton in Incendiary Blonde with screen director George Marker, brought to you by RCA Victor, the radio, first and recorded music, first in television. It's in the Bag, was presented through the courtesy of Skirball Manning, producers of Bride for Sales, starring Claudette Colbert, Robert Young and George Brent. Richard Wallace's latest production is a kiss for callers, starring Shirley Temple. This is Jimmy Wallington speaking and inviting you to listen again next Friday when RCA Victor presents Screen Directors Playhouse, star Betty Hutton, production in Incendiary Blonde, director George Marshall. This is NBC, the National Park Cafe.