 That was, uh, that was Johnny Green and his boys playing I Don't Want to Make History from the motion picture Palm Springs. And this is Jack Benny back at the Broadcasting Studio where they appreciate him. Oh, Jack? Yes, Johnny. What are you wearing those smoke glasses for? I'm not wearing smoke glasses. Well, that's right. I forgot about that fight we had last week. Well, I always had rings under my eyes. Yeah, but you didn't wear beef take on him. I did, too. Well, to say Jack, it's none of my business, but I hear you're out of Paramount. Now, how do you mean that, Johnny? Am I out of Paramount or am I out at Paramount? Too bad either way. Say, Mary, did Paramount call me? Yes. No, and I think you made a mistake walking out like that. Well, if they want me, they'll have to give me a bigger part. They know where I am and they can call me. They're probably worried right now. I'll bet Mr. Paramount won't sleep a wink tonight. That's his hard luck. Let's go ahead with the program. But we haven't anything prepared tonight, Jack. Who cares? Give me my fiddle. Now, wait a minute, Jack. Look, see those two fellas sitting there in the second row? Where? Oh, you mean those two guys with the sour pusses? Uh-huh. Who are they? Leo Robin and Ralph Ranges, the fellas who wrote Love and Bloom. No kidding. Here, hide my violin, Mary. Hey, boys, boys, come on up here a minute, will you? Well, so you're Leo Robin and Ralph Ranges, the writers of Love and Bloom. Yup, that's us. Yup, that's us. Well, I'm sure glad to meet you. Thanks, Mr. Benny. Thanks, Mr. Benny. Well, one thing you have to admit, boys, I certainly put your song over. Yeah. Yeah. The Echo spoke first that time. Well, I want to tell you something, fellas. That's one of the greatest numbers ever written. Ah, what a thought. Can it be the trees that fill the breeze with rare and magic perfume? You know, I've been playing that number for the last two years. Did you fellas make any money on it? Not in the last two years. And you know, boys, I'm an old songwriter myself. You know, I used to put over some of those hits. I wrote Cocktails for Two, didn't I, Mary? Yeah, with separate checks. Stop, you little ragamuffin. Of course, you know, Johnny Green has written a lot of song hits and even Don Wilson. Say, Don, what was that song you wrote? Well, you mean the last one, Jack? Yeah, how does it go? Jelome. The finest dessert in the world. Jelome. Jelome. Oh, sure, we're all songwriters. Hey, Jack, you know, these two boys also wrote the number I just played. You mean I don't want to make history? Uh-huh. Oh, is that right, fellas? Yes, and we think it has a good chance to become popular. Well, boys, you know what I did with Love and Bloom. That's why we're here. Now, wait a minute. Let me have that violin again, Mary. Maybe I can play their new number now. Yeah, yeah, Jack. Wait a minute, then. Some tone, hasn't it, boys? Yeah. Is it a Strativarius? If it ain't, I'm out ten bucks. All right, Jack, you can't get a Strativarius for ten dollars. Well, this is a demonstrator. All right, Johnny, let's go. I don't want to make history. Don't worry, you won't. Okay, Johnny, swing it, dear. Well, how did you like it, boys? That's the catchy tune. What is it? Well, that's your song. It is. Give me that fiddle. There. Oh, fellas, goodbye, Mr. Bunny. Let that be a lesson to you. I don't need lessons. Well, that's gratitude for you. It's the last time I'll ever plug a song. Oh, Mary, not that I care, but did Paramount call me back yet? No, and let that be a lesson to you. Well, if they want me, they know where I am. Hey, that must be Paramount now. Answer it, Mary, and tell them that my part must be bigger. You know, act independent. Go ahead, go ahead, Mary. Hello? Jack's part must be bigger, and he don't care whether you make the picture or not. What? Oh, I see. I'll ask them. Hold the wire. What do they say, Mary? It's a cook at your house. He wants to know what you want for supper tonight. Oh, just tell her some bacon and eggs. And he wants bacon and eggs. Goodbye. Did you send for me, Jack? No, I said bacon and eggs. Oh, I thought you said baker. Imagine baker and eggs. Sing bacon. I mean, Kenny. You came along when I needed you so. We met me so lucky, so. How did it happen? I'll never know. All that I know. Me dreamy until the day that you happened my way. Life was so empty. Come through for a thrill. The first thrill that I ever knew. Days were so long and less. Each day for me was the same. Life was so long and so endless. Too much applause to suit me. That was you started me dreaming, sung by Kenny Bacon. Say, Kenny, you're making a picture out here, too, aren't you? Yes, Jack. Have you started shooting yet? Sure. We're getting along fine. An old boy, they gave me a swell part. They did, huh? Yes, I played a part of a lover. Oh, the lover. Some casting, lover and bacon. Well, that is swell, Kenny. Yeah, and one of my big scenes, I'm sitting on a Davenport, making love to a blonde and in walks a butler. And then he hides in a closet and... Never mind, Kenny. I know the rest. Mary, come here a minute, will you? Oh, what? Did Paramount call you? No. Well, one thing about me, I don't worry. You don't? Then why are you so gray? Well, battleships are gray. They don't worry, do they? Believe me, you find a battleship that worries you. Some stuff. Huh, Natty? Say, Mary, listen, I've just thought of a terrific idea. Listen, I'm surprised I didn't think of it before. What is it? Well, look, I'll give him five more minutes, and if I don't hear from him, I'm going to start my own film company. You are? Sure. After all, I've got a name. And what is there to make him picture? All I need is a building, some lights and cameras, a couple of dozen stars, Eugene O'Neill, Edna Ferber, and five or ten million dollars. How about some postage stamps? Don't worry, I'll get one. Bye, golly, I'm going ahead with it. Oh, that's a great idea, Jack. Why, look at Louis B. Mayer, Sam Goldwin, and Ernest Lubitz. Why, certainly, I could do what those guys do. What am I waiting for? A call from Paramount. Well, maybe they haven't got a phone. Anyway, what a sucker I was, even though considered. Why, I'll make my own picture. Yes, sir, the Benny Mount films. Say, Jack, will you make big pictures? Will I? Did you ever see Mutiny on the Bounty? No. Well, I'll make that first. I want you to see it. Say, Johnny, play something while I get my organization together. Boy, what an idea. I'll show them. You have just heard I've got a heavy date written by Johnny Green with Johnny at the piano. And now we take you to the new Benny Mount Picture Company, makers of super colossal features. All right, all right, boys. All right, I want to thank you for putting up this building while Johnny was playing his number. It ain't finished yet, boss. There's no roof on it. Well, put a Wilson's hat on it and let's get to work. Now, come on. We got to get into production. Oh, Miss Livington. Yes, Mr. Denny. Put down that Broadway column and come here. This company's going to make pictures. Everybody works. Yes, sir. Where's my writing staff? They're out playing golf. Playing golf. Hey, what am I paying them $1,000 a week for? To learn how. Fine staff. They should be creating stories, writing new ideas. Maybe they can't think of anything. I never thought of that. Never mind. I'll buy some stories. Who wrote The Taming of the True? Shakespeare. Well, get them on the phone. Operator, get me Venice 6578. Who are you calling? The merchant of Venice. He's right here at Santa Monica. You're crazy. Well, it's a living. Say, Mary, did Paramount call up yet? No, Jack. Well, we must get a scenario. What kind of a company is this? A lot of stories. Come in. What can I do for you? Mr. Denny, I understand you're on the market for a good story. Yes, I am. So you're an author, eh? What's your name? The Guy Sipping. The Guy Sipping. Won't you have a chair? No thanks. I'm standing. Well, make up your mind. Have you, have you written anything before? Yes, the story of my life and how I was killed. How you were killed? I'll bet he's a ghost rider. Quiet. Now, what have you got there? A great story. Won't you hit it? That's not important. How much do you want for it? I'll take a cool 5,000. A cool 5,000. I'll give you a warm 10 bucks. I'll take it. I'm not so hot. I'm afraid he was going to lose that one. Okay, here you are. So long, so long. Well, at last we've got a story. What's it all about, Jack? Let me see. See, it's terrific. Very topical. It deals with the Irish bootstrap. Girl wins $150,000, and boy consents to Marrior. Does he marry her? Yes. Boy meets squirrel. Now, that's what makes a great picture. Finance and romance. The Irish bootstrap. We'll put this on big. We'll get an Irish tenor, 10 plates of Irish stew, and some Irish linen. Say, this will be the biggest thing ever attempted in Hollywood. You said it. The Paramounts all up here? No. Well, let's get our pictures started. We've got to get going. Come in. I'd like to see Mr. Benny. What can I do for you? I'm an Irish tenor. Oh, yes, yes. You can use one. What's your name, please? Pito Ruffles. Oh, sure. I've seen your name in front of the Metropolitan Opera House. What's your boy, Pito? Barry Ruffles. We can use you. What's your salary, Danny? I mean Ruffles. I must get $1,000 a week. Oh, you must, eh? Why? Cost you $12 a week to live. I see. What do you think we ought to do, Ms. Livingstein? Give Mr. Ruffles a little switch from the other side. Hear that, Roger? Give him $50 and sound to live three days a week. Oh, I'll talk to him. Now, how about taking $35 a week and 5% of the profit? Give me $40 and keep the profit. What profit? All right. We'll concede a point. Give him a contract, Ms. Livingston. Uh, here you are. Sign here. Well, wait till I read it. Oh, trying to take advantage, eh? By this four-year contract is all your favor. The first year, you get $40 a week. The third year, you get $1,200. And the fourth year, $10,000. What happens to the second year? You get fired. Sign here, you dope. All right, but it don't seem right to me. I don't forget. Be here at 8 a.m. tomorrow. We start shooting in September. Okay, so long. Can I have your pheromones for you? No. I can't understand. Thomas Livingston, who's the best man in Hollywood, the director in Irish pictures? I got just the man for you. He's waiting outside. Uh, come in, Mr. Mulcahy. Hello, Mr. Bennie. I understand you're looking for a director. Yes, uh, are you a director? Am I a director, you guess? Last year, I directed The Green Boys of Wimple Street. The year before, the Count of Mexico. And I just finished Mr. Korn's go to town with Easy Cooper. Well, have you made any Irish pictures? You see, the name of our picture is a knight in Ireland. You know that little bit of heaven? Why not make it a knight in Corny, Ireland, with a little bit of Harry? I said heaven, not Harry. Well, that's heaven to me. I'm sorry, but I don't think you're the right man for this type of picture. Well, that's up to you. If you want me, give me a call. Where at? RKO. I'm directing Fred Einstein and Ginger Rosenbois. Oh, yeah? Well, wait a minute. Hey, we can use you. Good, Mr. Hess. Hey, goodbye.