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Where There's a Will ....

Your Hollywood Parade

Where There's a Will ....

Mar 9 1938






POWELL: ... And now for our dramatic department. We of the Parade feel fortunate indeed in having with us tonight an actress who has become one of Hollywood's most sprightly comediennes. In formally presenting Miss Constance Bennett, who comes to us through the good graces of Mr. Hal Roach, we bring you not only a consummate artiste but a grand person as well. Tonight Miss Bennett appears for us in "Where There's A Will ...." a little comedy written 'specially for the air by Charles Tazwell. The slice of ham opposite her will be myself. Al -- will you give us one of your deluxe openers, please?


ANNOUNCER: The scene is the reception room of O'Brien, MacAlister, Ginsburg and Skopapoulas, Attorneys at Law, New York City. It is early, and Barbara, a striking young woman, yawns as she shuffles through the pages of the June, 1934 issue of "The Beekeepers Journal." Jeffrey, a young man in a tan overcoat, sits twirling his hat and whistling tunelessly ...



BABS: Darling, would you call your shots on those high notes? You're giving me a headache. 

JEFF: (STOPS SMILING) Oh so sorry, my love. So sorry.

BABS: (YAWNS) What time is it?

JEFF: It's exactly ten o'clock. 

BABS: It was exactly ten o'clock when you pounded on my door and woke me up an hour ago --

JEFF: I wonder if my watch has stopped? 

BABS: Possibly --- I simply adore being dragged from my bed when the dawn comes up like thunder in the Chinese laundry across the way. 

JEFF: Ah, yes, it's true.

BABS: BUT -- will you kindly tell me the exact time we have the appointment with this -- this legal League of Nations -- the Misters O'Brien, MacAlister, Ginsburg and Skopapoulas?

JEFF: At exactly ten o'clock, my Sweet.

BABS: (SWEETLY) If you say "exactly ten o'clock," my sweet, again I shall crown you with the Statutes of the State of New York, volumes 1920 to '36, inclusive, darling.

JEFF: Here we are on the threshold of one of the greatest days in our lives -- and you beef about losing a little sleep! Today we go from toiling poverty to filthy riches. 

BABS: Idle riches. As one of the bourgeoise you can be as filthy as you like -- but, as the sole heir of the late, dear Mister Mortimer, I shall spend hours lolling at ease in scented suds.

JEFF: What do you mean -- "sole heir?" 

BABS: It was Mr. Mortimer's last wish that I inherit the Mortimer Publishing House, darling.

JEFF: Who told you that, Babs? 

BABS: Mr. Mortimer, himself.

JEFF: Well, he told me the same thing! He said he was leaving the business to me!

BABS: You misunderstood him, Jeff. 

JEFF: You mean you DID! I'm afraid this will be a big disappointment to you, Darling! 

BABS: To you, Sweetheart! But you'll find me a very kind employer. My first act as the big boss will be to fire Icky, Mr. Mortimer's idea of a secretary. 

JEFF: Oh, I couldn't delegate that job to a mere employee like you, darling -- even if I do love you. As chief, I shall give Mr. Ickenborg the gate!

BABS: (LAUGHS) You the chief! I shall say, "Icky--Mr. Ickenborg, you may have served Mr. Mortimer long and well - But -- you remind me of a regretted moment from a decadent past. You're a long-nosed snooperoo, a snake in the alfalfa -- and furthermore, I don't like you personally. You're fired!" How's that? 

JEFF: Terrible! .... It's lucky Mortimer made me his heir -because I can really tell Mr. Ickenborg off!

BABS: As sole heir I reserve the right to fire Icky! 

JEFF: I'M the sole heir! Mr. Mortimer wouldn't lie to me! 

BABS: He wouldn't lie to me, either! 

JEFF: It's a cinch -- he lied to one of us!

BABS: Of course! Are you going to mind working for me? 

JEFF: I wouldn't work for any woman -- even though I loved her as much as I do you, darling. However the question is -- how are you going to like working for me

BABS: I wouldn't consider it! -- If you're the legatee, Jeffrey Gordon, I walk out forever! 

JEFF: If you are -- I'll do the same thing! 

BABS: All right - you can start walking now! 

JEFF: That suits me!

BABS: I wouldn't walk for you - I mean work for you if you had the last job left in the world.

JEFF: I've had enough arguments with you to last me a lifetime! 



BABS: (ALMOST IN TEARS) But -- but I mean it -- ! 

JEFF: (SOBERLY) Well ... well, so do I --

BABS: Well, what are we going to do about it? 

JEFF: Darned if I know - unless - Babs! Babs - I've got an idea that will solve the whole mess!

BABS: I know. You're going to be noble and commit suicide. 

JEFF: Look -- four hundred and seven times I've asked you to marry me.

BABS: You couldn't support yourself in the style to which you're accustomed with me hanging on your pay check. 

JEFF: Exactly -- but now that I'm Mortimer's legatee - ! Babe, for the four hundred and eighth time -- and, as a very special concession, on my bended knee, will you marry me? 

BABS: Yes, Jeff. 

JEFF: You said that too quick and you look too happy! What's the catch? 

BABS: No catch, darling. -- But you've made your proposal so now I'll make mine. Suppose we find out that I inherit the business -- will you do me the honor of becoming my husband? 

JEFF: I most certainly will not!

BABS: That's not very sporting. After all, I was willing to take a chance. 

JEFF: That's different!

BABS: I don't see why! Now, look, Jeff - we both love each other. Let's leave it to fate.

JEFF: Why bring a third party into this? 

BABS: Give me a coin.

JEFF: Here's my lucky quarter. Heads we go to City Hall and get married before we hear the will. 

BABS: --- and tails, we wait to hear the will! Here goes -- !


JEFF: What is it? 

BABS: Heads! To City Hall! 

JEFF: I wonder whore I can borrow two dollars? 


JEFF: Any regrets, Babs? 

BABS: Not one. How about you? 

JEFF: Happy as a guppy. Well, Mrs. Jeffrey Gordon, let's go in and hear that will . . 


BABS: (IN SURPRISE) Why .... why, Icky! 

JEFF: Hello, Ickenborg! What brings you to these legal chambers?

ICKY: Why -- I just heard Mr. Mortimer's will read, Jeffrey! 

BABS: Is it over and done with, Icky? 

ICKY: Yes, Barbara -- but you, and Jeffrey are two very fortunate people! 

JEFF: Really?

ICKY: Mr. Mortimer has divided his estate equally between you! 

JEFF: Then we're joint-legatees! 

BABS: Oh, darling, I knew everything would work out all right, Jeff! We're co-bosses! 

BOTH: Icky -- you're fired! 

JEFF: But before you go, Icky, I want you to meet my wife! 

BABS: We just got married, Icky! 

ICKY: Married? Tsch-tsch-tsch! That's really too bad! 

JEFF: Too bad? 

ICKY: Yes, you see, there's a qualifying clause in Mr. Mortimer's will. The clause states the estate is to be divided between you only if -- and providing -- you are unmarried


BABS: But we've only been married a few minutes! That ought not to count!

JEFF: Wait a minute! If we are married, who gets the estate? 

ICKY: I do, Jeffrey. 

BABS: It's robbery! And you're the cause of it, Jeffrey Gordon!

JEFF: You mean you are! Didn't you force me to marry you? 

BABS: I force you! - To marry me? Well, didn't you think up that coin trick? 

JEFF: I think it up? You thought it up!

ICKY: Children -- please -- ! 

BABS: I'm getting a divorce! 

JEFF: You mean I'M getting one! 

ICKY: Children! -- CHILDREN!

JEFF: I'll send my lawyer!

BABS: He'll find me in Reno!

ICKY: Children, in the event you are married, the estate goes to me to hold in trust -- !

BABS: In trust? In trust for what, Icky? 

ICKY: In trust for five years!

JEFF: Five years! 

ICKY: If, in my opinion --

BABS: In your opinion! 

ICKY: At the end of that trial period, you are, and have been, happily married, I turn the estate over to you! 

JEFF: Isn't that just ducky! 

BABS: Five years with this - for company!? 

ICKY: Ah -- how I'm going to love watching you young people thru five years of perfect bliss! Kiss her, Jeffrey. 

JEFF: It's capital punishment!

ICKY: I want to be sure you're happy right at the start! 

BABS: Worm! 

ICKY: There, now -- Kiss Jeffrey, Barbara! 

JEFF: Ouch!

ICKY: Fine! We ought to have a celebration! I'll get a taxi -- (FADING) 


BABS: Five years! It's monstrous! Five long years of pretending I love you. I hate, despise, loathe and detest you! 

JEFF: (OMINOUS) Yeah? If you ever bite me again, like you did just now, when I kissed you -- ! 

BABS: (ANGRY) Oh, yes? And just what will you do? 

JEFF: (ANGRY) I'll show you what I'll do! Icky or no Icky -- Estate or no estate! 

BABS: (FURIOUS) You can't tell me what to do! Go ahead -- I dare you to kiss me! I'll show you, you can't scare me! 

JEFF: Come here! 

BABS: (QUICKLY) If you dare touch me -- !

JEFF: Come here! 

BABS: I'll call Mr. Ickenborg! Icky! -- I-C-K-Y-Y-Y-! 

JEFF: I'm not going to kiss you! I just want my lucky quarter back! 

BABS: (DISAPPOINTED) OHH! ... Well - if you think I thought - !

JEFF: Hand it over! 

BABS: Wait a minute! This quarter's got HEADS on BOTH sides! 

JEFF: Sure ... did you think after you'd refused me 407 times, I'd take a chance on the 408th? 

BABS: Why, you dirty, double crosser! 

JEFF: Don't you call me a double crosser. 

BABS: Double crosser ... double crosser ... double crosser. (CONTINUES ON AS JEFF SMOTHERS HER) Don't try to kiss me! ... Double crosser, double crosser ... 


BABS: Double crosser ... (WEAKER) ... double crosser ... (BIG SIGH) Ohhh! You darling, darling, double crosser. 


POWELL: Thank you, Constance ... You Bennetts have a way of always coming through in beautiful fashion.

BENNETT: You weren't so bad in there yourself, Dick ... I liked the skit. Sort of wacky - you know?

POWELL: Wacky's the word - and come to think of it, we've had a lot of this sort of humor lately, both on the radio and in pictures. Or hadn't you noticed? 

BENNETT: I, Dick? 

POWELL: Yes you, Connie. Wasn't there just a touch of wackiness in your last picture, "Merrily We Live"? I mean all that shouting and tearing of hair in the breakfast scenes. Remember? 

BENNETT: Shall I ever forget! We shot those breakfast sequences pa-lenty of times. 

POWELL: Which must have meant pa-lenty of shouting for Connie! 

BENNETT: You're right, Dick - and while we're on that subject, don't forget to pass along the compliment I told you about Luckies. 

POWELL: You mean being easy on your throat - even under that strain? ... Well, suppose you pass out your own compliments? 

BENNETT: All right! For five years now I've thought that Luckies are not only a grand tasting cigarette, but - well - the best way I can put it is - they've been a real friend to my throat.

POWELL: Well, thanks, Connie Bennett for those kind words. Mr. Lucky Strike and I appreciate them. And thanks for dropping around to tonight's show - You're one of the gals who's always welcome.

BENNETT: Thanks, Dick - you and your gang were perfectly swell to me and it really was a lot of fun. Good night.