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Cultural Singing Contest

Duffy's Tavern

Cultural Singing Contest

Nov 09 1951





DRAMATIS PERSONAE:

ARCHIE, the manager

FATS, the piano player

ABIGAIL, Mrs. Piddleton, a snooty high society lady

FINNEGAN, likable, but very dumb

MISS DUFFY, Duffy's daughter, working class Noo Yawk accent

JOSITA, South American accent; name mispronounced by Finnegan






[SOUND: PHONE RINGS


ANNOUNCER: It's "Duffy's Tavern," brought to you, transcribed, by the National Broadcasting Company! With Charlie Cantor as Finnegan, Hazel Sherman as Miss Duffy, "Fats" Pichon at the piano, and starring Archie himself, Ed Gardner!]


MUSIC: PIANO GLISSANDO INTO "WHEN IRISH EYES ARE SMILING" TO ACCOMPANY THE CAST


CAST: (SINGS)

When Irish eyes are smiling,

Sure, 'tis like a morn' in spring.

In the lilt of Irish laughter,

You can hear the angels sing--


SOUND: PHONE RINGS


ARCHIE: Quiet, everybody!


SOUND: PIANO AND SINGING OUT AS PHONE IS ANSWERED ... RECEIVER UP


ARCHIE: (INTO PHONE) Hello, Duffy's Tavern, where the elite meet to eat; Archie the manager speakin'; Duffy ain't here. Oh, hello, Duffy! ... Guess what we just had? A new customer ... Yeah, a sweet little old lady. But I'm proud to say that this liquor of ours does somethin' to people, Duffy. That sweet little old lady walked out of here, yelled "Yahoo!", and helped two Boy Scouts across the street. ... Yeah ... Huh? Well, you know, they're not all old ladies that come in here. In fact, tonight I'm expectin' me new girlfriend, er, Josita, the cute little tamale from South America. The Chile-billy, y'know? ... You should get a load of her, Duffy, a real cute little armful. ... Huh? Last night we went to a symphony at Carnegie's Hall. ... A symphony! It's a Greek word, ya know. ... Sort of a contraption. Uh, "Sym," meaning music, and if ya can figger out what "phony" means, that's it! ... Huh? Well, ya know, for a symphony it was pretty good. ... Yeah. Horrible. ... Huh? Well, I'm gonna check to see what the critics have to say about it in the paper. I'll call ya back.


SOUND: RECEIVER DOWN BEHIND--


ARCHIE: Hey, Fats!


FATS: Yes, sir?


ARCHIE: Fats, ah, how do you feel about classical music?


FATS: Classical music? Lemme put it this way.


ARCHIE: What way?


FATS: It will never replace the good old Chinese water torture. ...


ARCHIE: Fats, I think I agree with ya.


FATS: In that case, how come you was hooked into goin'?


ARCHIE: Well, I was tricked. I thought it was a Polish wrestlin' match. ...


FATS: What made you think that?


ARCHIE: The sign out in front. I thought the sign said "Tristran versus Isolde." ...


FATS: Well, Mr. Archie, if it was so bad, why didn't you get up and leave?


ARCHIE: Well, somebody had to sit there and give 'em the raspberry. ...


FATS: You gave them the raspberry?


ARCHIE: Yeah.


FATS: Out loud?


ARCHIE: Yeah. Only, of course, when they hit the wrong notes.


FATS: How'd you know when they hit the wrong notes?


ARCHIE: I didn't. So I played it safe. I gave 'em the raspberry on everything. ... Uh, Fats, get that paper over there. I can hardly wait to see how the critics panned it. What does it say?


FATS: Let's see. (READS) "Impeccable technique. The quintessence of dynamic interpretation."


ARCHIE: I told ya it stunk. ...


FATS: (READS) "The epitome of virtuosity."


ARCHIE: (HIGHLY AMUSED) The epitome of virtuosity? It's even worse than I thought! ...


FATS: Mr. Archie?


ARCHIE: What?


FATS: I got news for ya. 


ARCHIE: What news?


FATS: They liked it.


ARCHIE: They liked it? Well, that's a pretty sneaky way to say so. ... This is the last time I read the music section of the Third Avenue Gazette. Hey, wait a minute. What's that next column there? Says-- (READS) "Local Song Fest. Mrs. Abigail Piddleton will hold the finals for this year's Miss Golden Throat of Third Avenue contest at Beet-hoven's Hall." Beet-hoven's hall! What a dirty trick. Last year she held it at Duffy's Tavern.


FATS: That's a dirtier trick. ...


ARCHIE: Gimme that phone.


SOUND: RECEIVER UP ... DIALS RAPIDLY


ARCHIE: (BEAT, INTO PHONE) Hello? ... Oh, hello, Mrs. Piddleton? This is Archie. Look, I understand that youse ladies is holdin' your singin' contest in Beet-hoven's Hall. ... But, Mrs. Piddleton, that Beet-hoven's Hall is nothin' but a crummy, filthy, dirty fire trap. For half the money, you can get the same thing right here. ... Look, look, Abigail, leave us not twiddle. Why don't you drop down to the tavern and you and me can talk it over over a fifth of tea? ... Huh? You'll be right down? Good.


MUSIC: PIANO PLAYS FOUR BARS OF "WHEN IRISH EYES ARE SMILING" FOR A BRIDGE


ABIGAIL: Well, Archie, my dear, dear boy!


ARCHIE: Well, Mrs. Piddleton!


ABIGAIL: Once again, we two disciples of culture meet on a sphere of rhapsodic affinity.


ARCHIE: Yep. ... Ain't it the nuts?! ... Now look, Abigail, uh, what's the idea of youse dames throwin' a singin' contest at Beet-hoven's Hall instead of Duffy's Tavern?


ABIGAIL: Well, Archie, for one thing, the singers seem to object to your acoustics.


ARCHIE: So what? We'll set traps. ... Now what other objections is there?


ABIGAIL: Well, to speak frankly, the atmosphere here is so unrefined.


ARCHIE: That's a stinkin' canard. The atmosphere ain't unrefined!


ABIGAIL: Well, of course, I don't include you.


ARCHIE: Well, I hope not. Wid me, culture is a thing of long standin'. It's a habit, ya know, like wid some people, it's takin' baths. ... Ya know somethin'?


ABIGAIL: What?


ARCHIE: Last night I went to a symphony concert at Carnegie's Hall.


ABIGAIL: Really? I was there, too.


ARCHIE: You was?


ABIGAIL: Yes. (WITH DISTASTE) And did you hear that ruffian?


ARCHIE: (QUIETLY) Which ruffian? ...


ABIGAIL: Why, that - that disgusting one that was making those uncouth noises. ...


ARCHIE: Dem raspberries? Oh, yes. He - he reviled me no end. (CLEARS THROAT) ... In fact, I was tempted to t'rash the cad with me lorgnette. I was positively disgusted.


ABIGAIL: Yes, imagine -- interrupting that divine music four times.


ARCHIE: Eight times. ... I mean, leave us get back to business, Abigail. Are youse dames or ain'tchas gonna hold a singin' contest here?


ABIGAIL: I can't, Archie. I've made other arrangements.


ARCHIE: Oh, this is gonna come as quite a shock to Deems Taylor.


ABIGAIL: Deems Taylor? The famous music critic?


ARCHIE: I was plannin' to have him judge the contest.


ABIGAIL: You mean that you could get Deems Taylor to come here, to Duffy's Tavern?


ARCHIE: Mrs. Piddleton, eh, you hold dat music contest here tonight and I'll promise ya that Deems Taylor will judge it.


ABIGAIL: Well, Archie, that's a bargain.


ARCHIE: And a bargain's a bargain.


ABIGAIL: Oh, well, in that case, I think I'll toddle along and notify the girls. Au revoir, kindred spirit.


ARCHIE: So long, kid. Keep a stiff upper plate. ...


SOUND: APPLAUSE FOR ABIGAIL


ARCHIE: Well, Fats, it looks like the tavern'll be loaded with culture bugs tonight. And there's nothin' buggier than a culture bug. (CHUCKLES) ...


FINNEGAN: Duh-uh, hello, Arch.


ARCHIE: Maybe I'm wrong. 


FINNEGAN: (CHUCKLE)


ARCHIE: Hi ya, Finnegan. Hey, ya look very happy.


FINNEGAN: Oh, I am, Arch.


ARCHIE: How come?


FINNEGAN: Duh-- Well, I went to a psychiatrist.


ARCHIE: And that made ya happy?


FINNEGAN: Yeah, yeah. Ya know what he told me?


ARCHIE: What?


FINNEGAN: He says I don't have an inferiority complex at all.


ARCHIE: No inferiority complex?


FINNEGAN: No. He says that, in my case, I'm really inferior. ...


ARCHIE: Well, that must be a load off your mind.


FINNEGAN: Oh, it is a load off-a my mind. I used ta worry about it. But, duh, now I can concentrate on me work.


ARCHIE: What work?


FINNEGAN: Sellin' Christmas cards.


ARCHIE: Finnegan, ain't it a little early to be sellin' Christmas cards?


FINNEGAN: Arch, these are last year's cards. ...


ARCHIE: Oh. Well, tell me, are ya havin' any luck?


FINNEGAN: D'oh, yeah, I sold quite a few today.


ARCHIE: Yeah?


FINNEGAN: Yeah.


ARCHIE: How many'd ya sell?


FINNEGAN: Three. ...


ARCHIE: (PUZZLED) This is "quite a few"?


FINNEGAN: It is to a guy who can only count up to four. ...


ARCHIE: Well, tell me, Finnegan, how do you go about sellin' these cards? Ya go door-to-door?


FINNEGAN: No. House-to-house. ...


ARCHIE: Explain that one, will ya?


FINNEGAN: Well, duh, first I look for a house.


ARCHIE: Yeah?


FINNEGAN: Duh-- Then I look for a door.


ARCHIE: Uh huh.


FINNEGAN: Duh, then I knock on it.


ARCHIE: Yes?


FINNEGAN: Duh, then when they open it, I stand there and I say, "Duh, I am Clifton Finnegan!" ...


ARCHIE: Uh huh. And then what?


FINNEGAN: Then I knock on the door again. ...


ARCHIE: Look, Finnegan, I'm afraid you're not usin' your head.


FINNEGAN: Oh, no? Whadda ya think I knock on the door with? ...


ARCHIE: Look, old man, I don't wanna criticize your sales technique, but maybe I can help ya. Now, uh, leave us pre-suppose that I'm a housewife, huh?


FINNEGAN: O-kay.


ARCHIE: Now you knock on the door.


FINNEGAN: Okay. Knock, knock.


ARCHIE: (ADOPTS A SLIGHTLY EFFEMINATE VOICE) Who's dere?


FINNEGAN: (VERY POLITE) Uh, good evening, madam.


ARCHIE: (SURPRISED) Oh, good - good evening.


FINNEGAN: (ADOPTS AN EXTRAVAGANTLY DAINTY MANNER, LIKE A SHY TEENAGE BOY) Uh, is your husband home? ...


ARCHIE: Well, uh, no, he - he's not.


FINNEGAN: Uh, may I come in? ...


ARCHIE: Well, maybe, just for a minute.


FINNEGAN: Thanks. Shall we go in this room? ...


ARCHIE: Well-- Very well.


FINNEGAN: (GIDDY WITH ENTHUSIASM) Oh, boy! Do ya mind if we sit on the sofa and turn out the lights?


ARCHIE: Whatever for?


FINNEGAN: I got a Christmas card here that lights up in the dark! ...


ARCHIE: (NORMAL VOICE AGAIN) Finnegan! Finnegan, ya got it all backwards.


FINNEGAN: Ya mean I should find a dame that gets lit up in the dark? ...


ARCHIE: I think ya better play a return match with that psychiatrist.


MISS DUFFY: (ENTERS) Say, Archie! 


ARCHIE: Yeah, Miss Duffy?


MISS DUFFY: Have ya heard the news?


ARCHIE: What news?


MISS DUFFY: I'm singin' in the contest here tonight.


ARCHIE: Oh, that's-- (UNCONVINCING) That's nice. ... Which contest? The amalgamated hog callers?


MISS DUFFY: No, no. Mrs. Piddleton's contest.


ARCHIE: Well, I wasn't too far off. Now look, Miss Duffy, you stay out o' that contest. I remember the last time you sang in public. They sent fifteen tugboats into the harbor lookin' for the Queen Mary. ...


MISS DUFFY: Oh, is that so? Well, my singin' teacher don't think so.


ARCHIE: Your singin' teacher?


MISS DUFFY: Yeah, Jascha Pon-yuh-slavnic, the founder of the Pon-yuh-slavnic vocal method. 


ARCHIE: Uh, Pon-yuh-slavnic vocal method?


MISS DUFFY: If ya have two lungs and four dollars, he can teach ya to sing. ...


ARCHIE: Four bucks is too much for that bum.


MISS DUFFY: Well, that's for his A-method.


ARCHIE: Oh, his A-method.


MISS DUFFY: Yes, his B-method is only fifty cents.


ARCHIE: Uh huh. What's the difference?


MISS DUFFY: With the B-method his hearin' aid is turned off. ...


ARCHIE: Born musician! And this is the guy that coached ya for the contest?


MISS DUFFY: Yes, and he has great confidence in me. He says I have the most powerful voice on Third Avenue.


ARCHIE: Powerful, huh?


MISS DUFFY: Yes. He says that Mrs. Fishbeck's voice broke his mirror. And that Mrs. Schultz's voice broke three of his windows.


ARCHIE: And what did you do to Pan-yuh-slavnic?


MISS DUFFY: (PROUDLY) I hit a high "C" and I put a crack straight across his glass eye. ...


ARCHIE: I see. Well, Miss Duffy, ya know, I always feel that true professional talent should be given a chance to express itself. 


MISS DUFFY: (PLEASED) Oh, well, that's sweet of you, Archie.


ARCHIE: Yes. Fats! Play the piano! A solo!


MISS DUFFY: (ANNOYED) Hmmm. Papa will hear about this!


MUSIC: FATS PLAYS PIANO, ACCOMPANYING HIMSELF SINGING A QUIRKY RENDITION OF "SOPHISTICATED LADY" (WORDS BY IRVING MILLS AND MITCHELL PARISH, MUSIC BY DUKE ELLINGTON)


FATS: (SINGS)

They say into each early life romance came,

And into this heart of mine burned a flame,

A flame that flickered one day and died away. 

(Yes, it died away.)


Then, with disillusion deep in your eyes,

You soon learn that fools in love --- grow wise.

The years have changed you, somehow.

I see you now. 


(Shame on ya.) 

Smokin', drinkin', never thinkin' of tomorrow, nonchalant.

Diamonds shinin', winin', dinin' with some man in a restaurant-- 

(Tell me!) Is that all you really want?


No! Sophisticated lady, I know, 

You miss the love that you had long, long ago.

When nobody is nigh, you cry.


Smokin', drinkin', never thinkin' of tomorrow, nonchalant.

Diamonds shinin', winin', dinin' with some man in a restaurant-- 

(Tell me!) Is that all you really want?


No! Sophisticated lady, I know, 

You miss the love that you had long, long ago.

And when nobody is nigh, you'll cry.


SOUND: APPLAUSE


ARCHIE: Ah, Fats, that was wonderful. And I-- Hey! Hey, look who's comin' in. Me little Spanish girlfriend, Josita. [PRONOUNCED ho-zeet-uh] Fats! Fats, do I--? Do I look okay?


FATS: You wearin' a red necktie?


ARCHIE: No.


FATS: Then put your tongue back in your mouth. ...


ARCHIE: Well, well, I'm glad to see ya, Josita.


JOSITA: Hello, Archie.


ARCHIE: (WITH INNUENDO, SLOWLY) Well, honey, now that you're here, how 'bout you and me?


JOSITA: How about you and me what?


ARCHIE: You name it. ... Oh, but where's me hospitality? May I offer you some food? Drink? Marriage?


JOSITA: Archie, I am only interested in my career as a singer.


ARCHIE: Well, I'll tell ya, Mrs. Piddleton's music club is holdin' a musicale here tonight.


JOSITA: A musicale?


ARCHIE: Yeah. You know, a tug-o'-war with tonsils. ... Honey, tell ya what I'm gonna do for ya. I'm gonna get ya into that contest and I'm sure the judge is gonna pick ya.


JOSITA: Yeah? But how can you be sure?


ARCHIE: 'Cause I'm gonna pick the judge. ...


JOSITA: But, Archie, if I'm just starting off on my career, I don't want to be dishonest.


ARCHIE: You won't have ta be, honey. I'll getcha an agent to be dishonest for ya. ... Now, let me see, I better call up the judge.


JOSITA: Why?


ARCHIE: Well, I wanna make sure the contest is fixed on the level. ...


SOUND: RECEIVER UP ... DIALS RAPIDLY


ARCHIE: (INTO PHONE) Hello? Is Deems Taylor there? ... He's listenin' to a symphony? (BEAT) Well, wake him up. ... Hello? Deems? This is Archie from Duffy's tavern. Remember? ... Hello?


SOUND: ARCHIE JIGGLES THE HOOK TO NO AVAIL


FATS: Looks like he remembered. ...


SOUND: RECEIVER DOWN BEHIND--


ARCHIE: Yeah. Well, ah, maybe I better dig up a dummy judge.


FINNEGAN: Duh, hey, Arch--?


ARCHIE: Finnegan! Just the man I'm lookin' fer. I want you to judge a contest.


FINNEGAN: Honest?


ARCHIE: Well, not exactly. ... Ya see, Deems Taylor just backed out of judgin' this singin' contest for Mrs. Piddleton--


FINNEGAN: Oh! Well, duh, I can be Deems Taylor.


ARCHIE: Hardly. Deems Taylor is a person. ... Uh, wait a minute, I got it. 


FINNEGAN: Yeah?


ARCHIE: (THINKING OUT LOUD) Ya better say that you're a - a German professor. 


FINNEGAN: German professor, yeah.


FINNEGAN: (THINKING HARD) Ah, Professor-- Liederkranz! Professor Liederkranz, uh, from Heidelberg.


FATS: (DRY) The famous eye, ear, and music authority. 


ARCHIE: Yeah! That's it! Now, Finnegan, ya gotta-- You'll be the judge, only I'll tell ya what to judge.


FINNEGAN: Duh, I got it. I'm a German Liederkranz named Deems Heidelberg with eye, ear and music trouble. ...


ARCHIE: This ain't all your trouble. ... Look, look, Finnegan, just remember one thing.


FINNEGAN: Duh, what's that?


ARCHIE: (AS IF TO A CHILD) We're holdin' a singin' contest.


FINNEGAN: Oh. Oh, I see.


ARCHIE: And the winner is Josita.


FINNEGAN: (BEAT) Short contest, wasn't it? ...


ARCHIE: Short contest. Now, tell me, will ya do it for me as a friend?


FINNEGAN: Duh, just a second, Arch. Wait a minute. Whatcha--? If I fix this contest for ya, duh, do I get a brand new yo-yo?


ARCHIE: Well, that depends. How much is a brand new yo-yo?


FINNEGAN: Oh, buck and a half.


ARCHIE: Buck and a half? Finnegan, how much do you think our friendship is worth?


FINNEGAN: Well, Arch, it's worth a fortune.


ARCHIE: So you're gonna give up a fortune for a lousy buck-and-a-half yo-yo?! ...


FINNEGAN: Well-- (CONTRITE) I'm - I'm sorry, Arch.


ARCHIE: Okay. Now, in that case, you do it for nothin'. And don't forget, Josita is the winner.


FINNEGAN: I got it. I got it.


FATS: Mr. Archie?


ARCHIE: What, Fats?


FATS: Was you expectin' the Notre Dame backfield?


ARCHIE: Well, no.


FATS: In that case, Mrs. Piddleton and the singing society is here.


ARCHIE: Oh! (UPBEAT) Well! Ladies, welcome. (TO FATS) Fats, the champagne.


FATS: What about it?


ARCHIE: (LOW) Lock it up. ...


ABIGAIL: Archie, are you insinuating that the ladies are tipplers?


ARCHIE: Oh, perish forbid. Did I say that they tipple? (CHUCKLES) I merely infer that once in a while they are inclined to dip the beak! ... But leave us get the contest started. Is the singers all ready?


ABIGAIL: Yes, and they're all so thrilled, especially our new protégé.


ARCHIE: Uh, who's your new protégé?


ABIGAIL: Miss Duffy.


ARCHIE: (THROATY SCREAM) Aaaaaaah! ... Gadzooks.


ABIGAIL: And you should hear her, Archie. She sings like a bird.


ARCHIE: A vulture. ...


ABIGAIL: Archie, she's a very talented girl. Do you know what she's devoted her entire life to?


ARCHIE: Sailors. ...


ABIGAIL: No. No, singing. She has a glorious voice and, uh-- (CONSPIRATORIALLY) Archie--?


ARCHIE: Huh?


ABIGAIL: I wonder if you'd do me a favor.


ARCHIE: Yeah?


ABIGAIL: You see-- Well, Miss Duffy is our favorite. 


ARCHIE: Uh huh.


ABIGAIL: And, Archie-- Come here.


ARCHIE: Yeah?


ABIGAIL: (LOW) Could, uh--? Could the contest be fixed?


ARCHIE: (BEAT, OFFENDED) What?


ABIGAIL: I mean, um-- Well, could it be "arranged"?


ARCHIE: Are you suggestin' arson? ...


ABIGAIL: Well, Archie, I--


ARCHIE: I am taken aghast! How could you stoop so low? I'll have you know that I'm conductin' an honest, legitimate contest. And I will brook no finaglin'. Besides, our honorable judge, Professor Liederkranz, would be shocked beyond reprisal.


ABIGAIL: Professor Liederkranz? But you promised us Deems Taylor.


ARCHIE: Deems met with an accident.


ABIGAIL: An accident?


ARCHIE: Yep. He was at a rehearsal and he got crushed between two sopranos. ...


ABIGAIL: (EXASPERATED) Archie!


ARCHIE: Now, Abigail, don't blow your wig. I got somebody better than Deems Taylor.


ABIGAIL: Who?


ARCHIE: I'll have you meet him. (CALLS LILTINGLY) Oh, Professor Liederkranz? Professor Liederkranz?


FINNEGAN: (GERMAN ACCENT) Duh, auf wiedersehen! Vas ist cooking? ...


ARCHIE: Professor Liederkranz, uh, this is Mrs. Piddleton.


FINNEGAN: Duh, auf wiedersehen.


ARCHIE: (TO ABIGAIL) Last guy in the world you'd think is a professor, ain't he?


ABIGAIL: He certainly is.


ARCHIE: Uh huh, but he fools you. I'll show you. Professor, uh, what do you think is the trend in, uh, modern music?


FINNEGAN: Oh, uh, uh-- (BEAT) Gesundheit. ...


ARCHIE: Well, there's two schools of thought on that.


ABIGAIL: Archie, I would like to ask a question.


ARCHIE: Does it require an answer? ...


ABIGAIL: Of course.


ARCHIE: Then we're in trouble. ...


ABIGAIL: Herr Professor--?


FINNEGAN: Duh-- Ja, mein dummkopf? ...


ABIGAIL: (ENUNCIATING EXTRAVAGANTLY) Name three famous German composers.


FINNEGAN: (BEAT, TRIUMPHANTLY) Ein, zwei, drei! ... 


ARCHIE: Heh heh!


ABIGAIL: (EXASPERATED) Archie!


ARCHIE: Dat's da trouble with music, Mrs. Piddleton. Too often we suffer from this language barrier. ...


ABIGAIL: I have one more question. Professor, listen to this.


MUSIC: PIANO PLAYS OPENING BARS OF RACHMANINOFF'S PRELUDE IN C SHARP MAJOR, OP. 3, NO. 2


ABIGAIL: Did you hear that?


FINNEGAN: Ja, ja.


ABIGAIL: Can you tell me what it is?


FINNEGAN: Ja! A piano! ...


ARCHIE: And you thought he was a phony! ... Now come on, leave us start the contest here. Uh--


SOUND: ARCHIE POUNDS ON TOP OF BAR FOUR TIMES, LIKE A GAVEL


ARCHIE: Ladies of the music society, tonight, in these immortal halls ... we clasp hands with the classics. They say that music hath charms to soothe the savage beasts. So I'm sure youse ladies will have a good time. ...


SOUND: POLITE APPLAUSE FROM LADIES


ARCHIE: Thank you. And now, before I introduce the charming and lovely Josita, I would like to present the judge of this contest, Professor Liederkranz.


FINNEGAN: Da vinner is Josita! [PRONOUNCED jo-zeet-uh]


ARCHIE: (LOW) Finnegan! ... All right, please. The contest ain't started yet.


FINNEGAN: Oh, excuse-eth, please. ...


ARCHIE: Uh, Mrs. Piddleton, outside of Josita and Miss Duffy, how many singers do we have to listen to?


ABIGAIL: Seven.


ARCHIE: Seven? Fats, mix me a bromo, just in case.


MUSIC: BRIDGE ... FINAL FEW BARS OF A LIGHT CLASSICAL WORK


SOUND: POLITE APPLAUSE FROM LADIES


ARCHIE: Thank you, ladies. You have just heard Mrs. Horace Bodkin render the ever-popular "Ride of the Val-ky-rees," ... written, of course, as you all know, by Schumann and Heink. ... Now, that was contestant Number Seven. And now we present our last two contestants, Miss Josita Hernandez, contralto, and Miss Duffy, middleweight. ... Now, first we will hear from Josita.


FINNEGAN: Duh, da vinner!


ARCHIE: (CHIDES) Professor! ... Please. Leave her sing first and then we pick her. Go ahead, Josita.


MUSIC: PIANO GLISSANDO ... THEN ACCOMPANIES JOSITA WHO SINGS A BRIEF BUT LIVELY SPANISH-LANGUAGE SONG (ABOUT 45 SECONDS)


SOUND: APPLAUSE


FINNEGAN: Oh, that was magnif'!


ARCHIE: Yeah! Wonderful! That was really terrific!


FINNEGAN: Oh, ja. Wunderbar. Wunderbar. Da vinner is--!


ARCHIE: Not yet, Finnegan! ... Well, Mrs. Piddleton, shall we bother with the last contestant? Or do you want to call it quits?


ABIGAIL: Archie, I demand that Miss Duffy be given a chance to compete.


ARCHIE: All right, it might be good for laughs. (CHUCKLES) Folks, we have just heard the beautiful, gorgeous Josita. The vivacious Josita. The charming, talented Josita. 


MISS DUFFY: (UNIMPRESSED) Hm.


ARCHIE: (WITH DISGUST) And now, Miss Duffy.


MUSIC: PIANO VAMPS ... THEN ACCOMPANIES MISS DUFFY IN A SCREECHY MANGLED GODAWFUL NOO-YAWK-ACCENTED VERSION OF "LO, HERE THE GENTLE LARK" (WORDS BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, MUSIC BY HENRY ROWLEY BISHOP)


MISS DUFFY: (CLEARS THROAT UNMUSICALLY, SINGS)

Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,

From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, 

(UNACCOMPANIED VOCAL BREAK) Hoo---ha-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! ...

And wakes the morning, from hoo-whose silvery breast, the chest, the thiiiigh!

In true majesty,

The sun ariseth in true majesty! Ha!


MUSIC: PIANO FILLS A PAUSE AS MISS DUFFY PREPARES FOR THE NEXT STANZA


MISS DUFFY: (SINGS) 

Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,

From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, 

(MOSTLY UNACCOMPANIED VOCAL BREAK WHICH SOUNDS

SUSPICIOUSLY LIKE WOODY WOODPECKER LAUGHING --

THE NEXT PART, WHICH IS SUNG ENTIRELY 

TOO FAST IN ABOUT FIVE SECONDS--) 

Lo! Lo! Lo! Lo! Lo! Lo!

Here the little lark, lark, lark, lark, lark, lark!

Here the little lark, lark, lark, lark, lark, lark!

Here the little lark! ...


MUSIC: PIANO FILLS A PAUSE AS MISS DUFFY PREPARES FOR HER BIG FINALE


MISS DUFFY: (SINGS)

Lo, here the gentle la-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ark! 

(HALF-ACCOMPANIED VOCAL BREAK WHICH SOUNDS

RATHER LIKE AN OUT-OF-CONTROL CUCKOO CLOCK, 

THEN DEVOLVES INTO A FLUTTERY, DYING CUCKOO 

BEFORE FINISHING BIG WITH--) 

Lo, here the gentle lark!


FINNEGAN: Stop the music! Stop the music! Stop the music! Stop it!


SOUND: APPLAUSE


FINNEGAN: Oh, ladies--! Ladies and gentlemen, da vinner--! Da vinner is -- Miss Duffy!


MISS DUFFY: (DELIGHTED) Aaaaaah! (CHUCKLES)


ARCHIE: (EXPLODES) Miss Duffy?! Finnegan, ya double-crossed me! You were supposed to pick Josita and ya--! (ABRUPTLY QUIET, SLOWLY) Hey. Hey, what's that ya got there in your hand?


FINNEGAN: (NO MORE GERMAN ACCENT) Duh, it's a yo-yo. ...


ABIGAIL: (TRIUMPHANTLY) Yes, Archie. A brand new one.


ARCHIE: Egads! Stabbed in the back by a yo-yo! ...


SOUND: APPLAUSE


MUSIC: PIANO ... "WHEN IRISH EYES ARE SMILING"  FOR A CURTAIN


[ANNOUNCER: Listen again next week, friends, to "Duffy's Tavern," transcribed by NBC.]

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