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Abbott & Costello: Christmas Turkey

The Kate Smith Hour

Abbott & Costello: Christmas Turkey

Dec 22 1938



CAST:

KATE SMITH, host (1 line)

BUD ABBOTT, the straight man

LOU COSTELLO, the comic


NOTE: Script of variety show sketch.




KATE: Well, everyone in Mopeyville is happy with Christmas cheer and fun tonight, for as Mopeyville goes ... so go ... Bud Abbott and Lou Costello.


LOU: (SINGS) "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the day.

Three more days till Christmas, and then what bills to pay."


BUD: Costello, you're certainly in a happy mood. I suppose you're all through with your Christmas shopping. Hey! What's that string tied around your finger for?


LOU: That's to remind me to remind my wife to ask me if I forgot something she told me to remember.


BUD: Which reminds me. I forgot to get my wife a nutcracker. 


LOU: What kind? Flat iron or rolling pin? 


BUD: Talk sense. What did you forget? 


LOU: A present for my Uncle Bumble Bee.


BUD: What a name. Uncle Bumble Bee.


LOU: Yeah. That's because everybody he touches gets stung. I'm gonna buy him a shaving brush and a razor.


BUD: Has he got a mug?


LOU: Oh, boy! You should see her.


BUD: Well, all I need now is my Christmas turkey.


LOU: Abbott, was I lucky! I got a turkey for running.


BUD: Who did you beat?


LOU: The butcher and two policemen.


BUD: Costello, you'll end up by spending Christmas in the police station.


LOU: Well, that's all right in a pinch. Hey, Abbott, come over to the house Christmas and eat some turkey.


BUD: Why should I have to eat turkey on Christmas? Maybe I'd like chicken.


LOU: I haven't got any chicken. I got turkey.


BUD: Well, is that my fault? Why didn't you ask me what I'd like before you invited me over? If I want chicken, why should you force me to eat turkey?


LOU: Who's forcing you to eat turkey? Don't eat it. 


BUD: I see. Now I shouldn't eat it. I should go hungry while you stuff yourself.


LOU: Who wants you to go hungry? Aw, I'll go out and steal a chicken.


BUD: And what happens to the turkey?


LOU: I'll give it to the dog.


BUD: That's fine. You feed the dog turkey and want me to eat chicken.


LOU: Look, Abbott, what do you keep arguing for? Look at me. I'm congenial.


BUD: Oh, now you're using an assumed name. Who are you to travel incognito?


LOU: Who's traveling in magneto? I ain't using a consumed name. I use my own name. You can find it on my front door.


BUD: Why should I look for your name? I know what it is.


LOU: Then don't look for it.


BUD: I see. I shouldn't look for your name. I should walk into somebody else's house by mistake and get shot for a burglar.


LOU: Ah, I don't want you to get shot. I'm trying to tell you, you're welcome at my house. The door is always open for you.


BUD: Now, you're going to leave the door open. You want me to sit in a draft and catch cold.


LOU: Who wants you to catch cold! I'll close the door. I'll lock the door.


BUD: And what am I supposed to do, crawl in the window?


LOU: What do you mean, crawl in the window? I'll bring you into the house.


BUD: Oh, you'll bring me in. What's the matter, don't you think I can walk? Do you expect me to come over inebriated?


LOU: Who cares if you're inebriated? You don't have to be inebriated. You can wear anything you want. I just want you to have some nice young turkey.


BUD: How do you know it's a young turkey? How can you tell a turkey's age?


LOU: By the teeth. 


BUD: A turkey has no teeth. 


LOU: No, but I have. 


BUD: Is the turkey dressed?


LOU: Did you ever see a turkey running around the streets without any clothes on? Certainly it's dressed. It has on a suit of feathers.


BUD: If it has feathers on, then it isn't dressed.


LOU: How do you like that? If it has feathers, it isn't dressed. Look; I'm talking about a turkey, not a fan dancer.


BUD: So am I talking about a turkey, and if it has feathers on, it isn't dressed.


LOU: Well, what do you want it to wear, a shirt waist and panties, or do you want me to take it to my tailor and say, "Make my turkey a cutaway suit, he's going out for Christmas dinner"?


BUD: That's not necessary. I thought maybe the butcher dressed the turkey.


LOU: That's ridiculous. Do you think the butcher has time to put clothes on animals?


BUD: No.


LOU: Do you think he says to his customers, "How would you like your turkey dressed, as Snow White or one of the Seven Dwarfs"?


BUD: You don't understand. When I say, "Is the turkey dressed?" I don't mean, is the turkey dressed?


LOU: No? What do you mean?


BUD: I mean, is the turkey dressed?


LOU: Ah, this thing is getting too complicated for me. I shoulda stole a hot dog.


BUD: Then why did you steal the turkey in the first place?


LOU: Who stole it in the first place? I had to try three places before I got it.


BUD: Well, what I'm trying to find out is this: Did you pick its feathers?


LOU: Did I pick its feathers! I never saw the turkey before. Do you think I know the style in turkey feathers? It picked its own feathers.


BUD: That's impossible. It couldn't pick its own feathers.


LOU: All right, then its mother chose them for it.


BUD: Costello, when I say, "Pick its feathers," I don't mean pick its feathers.


LOU: I know. You mean, pick its feathers. This thing gets sillier all the time.


BUD: There's nothing silly about it. You've got to pick its feathers. They're good for quills.


LOU: Well, who's got quills. I haven't been sick a day in 5 years.


BUD: Costello, I'm trying to tell you that you can't cook that turkey with its feathers on.


LOU: Are you kidding? 


BUD: Certainly not. You've got to pick the feathers. 


LOU: I'll let my wife pick them. She picks everything else I get. 


BUD: Does she pick your clothes? 


LOU: Only the pockets.


BUD: That's fine. You get mad if your wife picks your pockets, but it's all right for you to steal a turkey. You don't care if the mama and papa turkey sit in their coop all day on Christmas and cry because you're having their baby turkey for dinner.


LOU: I'm a bad boy.


BUD: You are a bad boy.


LOU: I'm the kind of boy my mother don't want me to associate with.


BUD: You bet you are.


LOU: I shouldn't be allowed to carve the turkey on Christmas.


BUD: You won't be allowed. I'll carve the turkey. I'll hand out the portions.


LOU: Then I'll probably end up with the wishbone.


BUD: What's the matter with the wishbone? It's lucky.


LOU: Yeah? Well, the turkey had it, and it didn't do him any good.


BUD: Keep quiet while I figure out how I'll serve the turkey. Now, I'll take the two legs.


LOU: Look, Abbott, I'd like to have one of the legs.


BUD: Sure, the turkey only has two legs, and you want a leg. You're the most selfish person I've ever met.


LOU: Oh, I'm a wanton.


BUD: What do you mean, you're a wanton?


LOU: I'm a wanton one of those turkey legs.


BUD: Never mind that. I'll take the two legs. My wife will take the two wings....


LOU: Well, could I sit under the table and pick up the crumbs?


BUD: I'll take care of your share later. Let me see. That's the two legs and wings, and your wife will take the white meat, your uncle the heart and liver.


LOU: Look, Abbott, could I lick the plate? I gotta come out of this with something.


BUD: Will you stop butting in! Now, that takes care of the legs, wings, white meat, heart, liver and oh, yes, your mother-in-law gets the neck and giblets, and you...


LOU: Aw, never mind me. I'll sit on the fence and grab mine as it goes by!


MUSIC: CHORD. [...]

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