 J-E-L-L-O! The Jell-O program brought to you by Jell-O and Jell-O Pudding, starring Jack Benny, with Mary Livingston, Phil Harris, Dennis Day, Rochester, and yours truly, Don Wilson. The orchestra opens a program with boy, oh boy, played by the orchestra. Now, ladies and gentlemen, once again, I bring you our master of ceremonies, a man who- Hold it, Don. Jack isn't here yet. Well, where is he? I just let Mr. Benny and Nickel to make a telephone call. Oh, he's probably talking to his lawyers again. Yeah, Harrington, Harrington, Harrington, and Drew. It's about that accident Rochester had with the Maxwell a couple of weeks ago. Remember when we were up at Marchfield? Oh, but that was Rochester's fault. He was driving along and smashed right into a truck. Well, Jack claims that truck cheated. It had brakes. Let's open the door and listen. OK. Gee, I hope I get my Nickel back. It's my life savings. Quiet. Yes. Yes, Rochester was on his way to Marchfield to pick me up, but the accident wasn't his fault. The truck driver didn't stick his hand out. Yes, but yes, but yes, but look, look, who am I talking to? Harrington, Harrington, Harrington, or Drew. It's got to be Drew. Well, look, Mr. Drew, make a note of this right away. The damages to the Maxwell amount to $158.64. What? How can I lend you my pencil? We're talking on the telephone. Four names on the door and no pencil. Well, now look, Drew, I'll tell you what. You get in touch with the trucking company, and if they're willing to settle out of court, what's that operator? Another Nickel for three minutes? Well, well, now look, Drew, if you get in touch with the trucking company, if they're willing to settle out of court, it's OK with me, but tell them that $158.64 is what I want and not a penny less. Goodbye. What a workout that Nickel got. I'll bet the buffalo lost six pounds. Duck vellas, here he comes. Oh, sorry I'm late, kids. Go ahead, Don, introduce me. OK. Who are you talking to, Jack? Oh, on the phone just now? Oh, that was an old girl friend of mine from Warkegan. She just got into town. Boy, was she a hot mama. Then why did you call her droop? The years have taken their toll. Anyway, anyway, she's in town, and we're stepping out tonight. Oh, stop, will you? We heard you talking to your lawyer about that little accident with the Maxwell. Oh, so you were all snooping around, eh? Well, if you want to know something, it wasn't a little accident. My goodness, look what happened to Rochester. I saw Rochester the next day, and he didn't have a scratch on him. Well, fortunately, since then, he's had the hives, and he's all bandaged up now. But I'm not bringing that into the case unless I have to. There's just one thing I can't understand, Jack. You say that Rochester bumped into the truck. That's right. The truck driver didn't stick his hand out. Well, I'd say that your brakes must have been in pretty bad shape. So if I were the judge, I'd look into that. Well, you're not a judge, and if you don't keep your big, fat mouth shut, you won't be an announcer, either. Now, let's settle down and get on with the program. You'd think that, oh, hello, Phil. Hiya, Jackson. Well, kids, I did it. Harris, done it. Congratulations. Congratulations. What'd you did, done, do, Phil? What happened? Well, I passed the midterm examination at night school. Oh, so you're out of the beginners' class, eh? You're not a freshman anymore. Nope, from now on, I'm a semaphore. First, you're a freshman, and now you're a semaphore. Let me ask you something, Phil. When are you going to be a sophomore? Who knows? I may quit school before then. Well, I give up. I'll just let semaphore ride. How were the examinations, Phil? Were the questions very tough? I'll say, here's a sample, Mary. Name the 48 states and give the capital of those that have them. Those that have them, Phil, every state has a capital. And I doubt very much that you answered that question correctly. Oh, yeah, well, try me out. Ask me one. OK, what's the capital of Idaho? Boys' town. That's Boise. It's Boise. The reason I remember that is because when I was in Boardville, Boise, Idaho, was one of my best towns. They loved me in Idaho. Then why did they throw baked potatoes at you? They didn't throw them at me. I got paid in potatoes. Get it straight. Say, Mr. Benny, did you get a big salary in those days? Well, I don't like to brag, kid. But I haven't played Boise since 1927. And I've still got half a sack left. And I love my starches, if you know what I mean. By the way, Phil, what other subjects did you have in your examinations besides geography? Well, we had arithmetic and history. Hey, fellas, here's a tough question I nearly missed. Who crossed the Delaware? Washington or Lincoln? Oh, that's stumpy, eh? Yeah, so I flipped the coin. It came out of Washington. And now I'm a semaphore. Phil, that word is no, no. I won't tell him. Well, let's, uh, Phil, let's forget about night school and have a band number. OK. Say, Phil, tell Jack about that new subject you're taking up. Oh, yeah. I forget to give you the hot news, Jackson. You know what I'm studying, this term, French. French? Get a load of this. Gère, Montje, La Finettra. Oh, very good. What does that mean, Phil? I ate the window. You, you ate the window? Yeah. What the heck do you want to eat a window for? You eat bread. You eat rolls. You eat cakes. Wait till I learn them till then I eat the window. Well, here's a tip for you, Phil. Stay out of French restaurants. You better stay out of them, too, till you learn the language. Oh, I can read French. Come on, Phil, let's have your band number. Tell them what happened to you at Gaston's the other night. Oh, that could happen to anybody. Come on, Phil, play. Well, wait a minute. What was it, Mary? Well, you know how Jack likes to show off. Oh. Well, we sat down at the table, and naturally, the menu was all in French. All in French, all in French. Forget it. And what happened? Jack ordered a nice, thick, juicy, watch your hat and coat with mushroom sauce. Well, eventually, I got a steak. Go ahead with your number, Phil. I've got to go out in the hall and call up my lawyer. Has your lawyer got a phone? There's a phone in the barbershop downstairs from his office. They'll call him. Don't worry. All right, hit it, Phil. Now, look, Mr. Drew, you tell the trucking company that if they don't settle right now, I'll take him to court first thing in the morning. Postboner till Wednesday. What do you want to postpone it for? Oh, Harrington is wearing your suspenders. Well, you can try the case with your pants at half mass. Be there tomorrow morning. No wonder they call him Drew. Now, Drew, Drew, tell the trucking company, what's that, operator? Tell the trucking company I want $158 to straighten the chassis. $8 for a pair of headlights, 64% for a wing for the heat on the radiator. Goodbye. People don't stick their hands out. They've got to pay. What are you mumbling about? All this darn case has got me all upset. Anyway, that was High Neighbor, played by Phil Harrison, his orchestra. Very good, Phil, although it was a little loud. Phil? What? I said it was a little loud. Well, how do you know it was loud? You were out in the hall and couldn't even hear it. I couldn't hear your band? Phil, you play in the Biltmore Bowl of the Biltmore Hotel here in Los Angeles, don't you? Yeah. Well, I know some people who live at the Biltmore that haven't been able to sleep since you opened. And the Biltmore I mean is in Phoenix, Arizona. And I'm not kidding. Well, it's their own fault. They ought to close their windows. Oh, fine. You know, like I said, they ought to manje la finettra. That's eat the window. You semaphore. We're two words ahead of that semaphore there. Now, let's get on with the show. Let's get on with the show here. Come on. Now, let's see. Where are we? Boise, Idaho. We are not. Well, someone just hit me with a potato. I don't care. We're in Hollywood. Now, let me announce our play. The ladies and gentlemen, for our dramatic offering this evening, the Benny retreaded Thespians are going to present an original mystery melodrama entitled The Fright Wig Murder Case, or He Died with His Tupon. Now, I will play the part of Detective Captain O'Benney as fearless a bloodhound has ever sniffed the clues. Phil Harris will be Sergeant O'Reilly, my assistant sniffer. Mary, you're going to be the wife of the murdered man. And Dennis, you're going to be the victim. Gee, there's no future in that. I'm going to be your wife. What have I got? Quiet. Now, let's see. I want a bigger part, Mr. Benny. Why don't you lay on the floor and be the murdered man? I wish I could. My feet are killing me. Now, who else? Oh, yes, Don, you're going to be the butler. Oh, every time we do a mystery on the butler, why can't I be a detective? Because any man that can't look over his stomach is apt to overlook a clue. Say. Say that. That's all right. That line was pretty clever, eh, Mary? What do you care? You saved your money. Well, I liked it. Now, before presenting our mystery, folks, let me give you a brief synopsis of what happened up to now. On the night of January 24th, AD, after dinner, Mr. Homer J. Freitwig, a social lion, was found murdered in his den. Just before the murder, his wife was in the room reading a copy of Live Alone and Like It, which may have thrown her a thought. The victim was playing solitaire when he was suddenly interrupted by a lead kibitzer. Now, who committed this crime? Was it the chauffeur? No, no, I didn't do it. I'm innocent, I tell you. Innocent. Was it the butler? I didn't do it, I tell you. I didn't do it. What do you mean you didn't do it? At the time of the murder, I was in my neighborhood grocers buying a package of jello with the new locked-in flavor. Oh, yeah? Please believe me. It's America's favorite gelatin dessert. And it's economical, I tell you. Geek, geek, geek, geek, geek! Ha ha ha! Woo hoo hoo hoo! Ha ha ha! Hmm. Now, pull yourself together. Was it suicide? No, no, I didn't kill me. I didn't kill me, I tell you. What? Me as my best friend. I love me and me loves I. You've got to believe me. And now the wife, Mrs. Homer J. Prightley, did you or did you not kill your husband? I hated him. I loved him. I despised him. So that night I stopped. We can't give it away, folks, but this mystery will go on immediately after a song by Dennis Day. Sing, Dennis, I'm going out and call Harrington, Harrington, Harrington, and Groove. Dover sung by Dennis Day. And now, ladies and gentlemen, for our mystery melodrama, the Fright Wig Murder Case, or now as the scene opens, lay down on the floor, Dennis. You're the murdered man. Lay right there on your back. If I lay on my back, I'll snore. You're getting paid, and you'll stay awake until the program is over. Now as the scene opens, we find Detective Captain O'Benney and Sergeant Phil O'Reilly in their office at police headquarters. Curtain, you see. There's the phone, O'Reilly. Oh, really? Hello, police headquarters. Hello, I want to talk to Detective O'Benney. That's me. What is it? My name is Mrs. Homer J. Fright Wig. I want you to come over to my house right away. My husband has been shot. O'Reilly? Is that for me, Cap? I said O'Reilly, O'Reilly. Shut up. Now, Madam, what makes you think your husband was shot? He's laying on the floor, and there's an extra buttonhole in his shirt. There is, eh? Well, I'll be right over. And don't make any more buttonholes till I get there. See you in a few minutes. OK, Cap. Bring some white rock. I ought to bring some aspirin for that cold leader. Goodbye. What happened, Cap? Homer J. Fright Wig has just been murdered. It's up to me to find out who did it. I think there's a woman in the case. Now, woman A, well, you know the old saying, man, she la finettra. That's sure she la femme. Now, you stay here, Sarge. I've got work to do. I'll take the patrol wagon. You can't, the boys are delivering beer in it. Oh, then I'll take the squad car. And I'll solve this case. Or my naming is the place all right. Open up in the name of the law. This is police headquarters. Dog gone, I forgot to release the brake. Try it again. Better come with me this time, Sarge. Let's go. Pick up some pretzels. We've got a barrel left over. Step on it, Sarge. We've got to solve this case and get back. This must be the place, Sarge. Open up in there. Good evening, gentlemen. Good evening, A. Make a note of that, Sarge. OK, Cap. Now, come on, you. Where's the murdered man? That ain't a brass rail. You got your foot on. That's OK, Mr. Benny. Shut up. The first thing we've got to do is grill the suspect. I thought the Fright Wigs lived here. They do suspects can be anybody. Now, wait a minute. Are you the butler here? Yes, sir. What's your name? O'Roolie. O'Roolie? Shake hands with O'Reilly. O'Reilly, O'Roolie, O'Roolie, O'Reilly. I'll just get out of the cave. Wait a minute. Who's this? Are you Mrs. Fright Wigs? No, I am the French maid. The French maid, eh? Well, tell me, where were you at the time of the crime? I don't know anything. I was sleeping in my room and I heard a terrible noise. So I got dressed up and I fell down. I don't know anything about this criminal. I'm going to kill you. Hmm. Translate that, sir. Are you kidding? Well, you're studying French, aren't you? What was the maid doing tonight? She didn't eat the window that I know. Fine help you are. Now, let's get to work here. Where is Mrs. Fright Wigs? Here she comes. Good evening, gents. What's all the commotion? Oh, hello, Mrs. Fright Wigs. I'm here to find out who killed your husband. Let's not talk shop-cappy. Come on over here on the sofa and sit down. None of that, Mrs. Fright Wigs. I represent the long arm of the law. Well, wrap it around me. I'm lonesome. I haven't got time for that. I have, but I'm a married man. Quiet, sir. Now, tell me, madam, where were you at the time of the murder? Back of a gun, minding my own business. Back of a gun, eh? Then you admit you killed your husband. Sure, I admit it. Uh-huh. And why did you kill him? He was always singing shortening bread. Oh. Mama's little baby loves shortening, shortening mama's little baby loves shortening. I know how it goes. Well, I don't blame you, Mrs. Fright Wig, but I still have to arrest you in the name of the law. Wait a minute, hold everything. Nobody leave this room. Come in. What do you want here, fellas? Pardon me, but we're looking for Jack Benny. I'm Jack Benny, but you'll have to wait. I'm right in the middle of a play. Well, you'll have to stop your play. This is important. Now, wait a minute, fellas, what's going on here? Who are you? I'm Harrington. I'm Harrington. I'm Harrington. I'm Drew. Oh, my lawyers, eh? Now look, fellas. I want you to tell you, my good man, that you are in the soup. The what? You're in the soup, the soup, the soup, you're in the soup, the soup, the soup. You tell him, Drew. You're in the soup. What do you mean, I'm in the soup? Well, let's review the fact. Whereas you've got to admit that a truck was hit at a certain arterial junction. Whereas they claim that your chauffeur just wouldn't pull over, or may have his brakes wouldn't function. Whereas they state that your Maxwell was minus an axle, thus knocking our case for a loop. Too weird, you're in the soup, the soup, the soup, the soup, the soup, the soup, the soup. Now, stop. Now, look, gentlemen, it wasn't Rochester's fault. The truck driver didn't have his hand out. He didn't have his hand out, fooled. For his ugly crime, he surely Truck driver to hang, fellas. Now, let's get this straight. Rochester started out from Sunset Boulevard and Vine Street to pick me up at Marks Field. And everything was all right until he got to Figaroa Street. Figaroa? Yes. Figaro, Figaro, Figaro, Figaro, Figaro, Figaroa. Figaro, Figaro, Figaro, Figaro, Figaro, Figaroa. What do I gotta do with Figaroa Street, fellas? Figaro, Figaro, Figaro. Wait a minute, fellas. Will you wait a minute? I can't talk to you now. Go away. I'll see you later. Goodbye. Goodbye, Mr. Benny. And don't worry. The most the judge will give you is 30 days. What do you mean? I'll get 30 days. 30 days, 30 days. You'll get Billy Caduceus, Chinamarusa, Balderbalda, all 30 days. 30 days, 30 days. You'll get Billy Caduceus, Chinamarusa, Balderbalda, all 30 days. That's about the silliest. Finish the sketch. Yeah, who killed me? We'll never know, Dennis. Play filled. Here's a grand jello treat, friends, that your family will add to their list of favorite desserts the very first time they taste it. And it's one of Mary Livingston's own favorites, too. A beautiful tempting dessert called cherry flake jello. All you need to make it is a can of grapefruit sections and one package of cherry jello. Just dissolve a package of jello imitation cherry flavor in one pint of hot water and grapefruit juice. Turn into a shallow pan and chill until firm. Next, break the glistening jello into tiny flakes with a fork. Then pile lightly into sherbet glasses, garnish with grapefruit sections, and serve. The result will be a tempting blend of canned grapefruit and rich crimson cherry jello. A treat the whole family will want to enjoy time and time again. Many grocers are featuring canned grapefruit and cherry jello all next week. So get both and make up this well dessert. But remember when you buy to get genuine jello because jello's new process box in its extra rich flavor. This is the last number of the 17th program in the current jello series. And we will be with you again next Sunday at the same time. Say, Mary, you want to come to my house for dinner tonight? Yeah, what are we going to have? Oh, Rochester picks up some baked potatoes and a nice Virginia ham. Oh, you played Richmond, too. Yeah, I went over big there. Good night, folks. Jello program is written by Bill Morrow and Ed Beloy. Have you plenty of jello puddings in the pantry? If you haven't, better get several packages tomorrow so the family can keep on enjoying those grand pudding treats they love so much. There's jello chocolate pudding, one of the smoothest, creamiest puddings you ever tasted. And it has such a rich, mellow flavor, especially developed for jello puddings by the famous Walter Baker chocolate people. Tomorrow, when you order jello, ask for jello chocolate, vanilla, and butterscotch puddings. Jello puddings are just like grandmas, only more so. This is the national broadcasting company. K-F-I, Los Angeles.