Alfred Hitchcock Presents

[Hitchcock arrives for his introduction dressed in a safari outfit and pith helmet]

Himself - Host:
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to darkest Hollywood. Night brings a stillness to the jungle. It is so quiet, you can hear a name drop. The savage beasts have already begun gathering at the water holes to quench their thirst. Now one should be especially alert. The vicious table-hopper is on the prowl, and the spotted back-biter may lurk behind a potted palm. To take me through this most savage of lands, I have hired a native guide.

[He snaps his fingers. An old man joins him, wearing a billboard sign that reads, "Maps of the Movie Stars' Homes - For Sale"]

Himself - Host:
He claims to know where I can find the big ones.

Himself - Host:
[introducing commercials at the end of the show] I hope you have enjoyed our program. Seeing a murder on television can help to work off one's antagonisms. And if you haven't any antagonisms, these commercials will give you some.

Himself - Host:
[signing off] I hope you'll join us again next week, when we will present you with another story of gripping, spine-tingling suspense, and three boring commercials to take the edge off of it.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening. I came down here because I understand that the current year is a very good year for wine. For drinking it, that is. I'm looking for some champagne. "Not to be taken internally." Oh. "For bathing only." Fortunately, my tastes aren't so expensive. I bathe in ginger beer. That way one doesn't have to add a softener. All this is by way of introducing tonight's play. It is called, by an extraordinary coincidence, "A Bottle of Wine."

[first lines]

Judge:
Oh, Grace.

Grace:
Hello, Judge. I came to get my clothes.

Judge:
So you're going. You're really going after all.

Judge:
Ten years, and one word seems to take care of it all. "Nothing." Such a merciless word.

Judge:
Why is it that the less use people have another human being, the politer they become to him? Relentlessly polite.

[last lines]

Grace:
We never had a honeymoon in Spain, Wallace. There was nothing wrong with that bottle of sherry.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Forsooth. Such knavery. Naturally the police apprehended Wallace and he paid for his ungentlemanly conduct. After all, one should not shoot one's host before dinner. This concludes our little preachment on the evils of drink. Tune in next time, when we shall again present a charming little horrific fairy tale. Good night.

[showing a gun]

Alfred Hitchcock:
It is an amazingly simple device. An idiot can operate it, and indeed, many do.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[upside down] Good evening. This is Alfred Hitchcock speaking to you from the bottom of the world. I mention this so that if snow should appear on your screen, you won't waste time adjusting your set. Ah. [a St. Bernard with a barrel around its neck walks on] Man's best friend. And a dog, too. Even though I have all the comforts of home, I'm afraid it is time for our play, and I wouldn't want everyone to watch this standing on his head. [snaps fingers; suddenly he's right side up and the dog is gone] Well, we seem to have lost the dog, but it's nice to feel the blood rushing to my feet again. Ladies and gentlemen, here, proper side up, is our story, "A Little Sleep."

[first lines]

Barbie Hallem:
Lover, you dance like a gigolo.

[last lines]

Benny Mungo:
You know, Marcella said the very same thing last night just before I put her to sleep.

Barbie Hallem:
You put her...

Benny Mungo:
Just like I did Ed. I do it real quick. I'll show you.

Barbie Hallem:
[screams]

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
And he did, too. Naturally, Benny was properly punished as is always the case on this program. Next time we shall be back again with more crime and punishment. Pax vobiscum.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening. [A boy walks into a wicker basket. Hitchcock puts swords through it, then looks inside.] Good heavens. He looks like a toothpick holder on an hors d'oeuvre table. I guess I'll just have to practice some more. So much for the sideshow. Now, turn your attention to the center ring where you will find our main attraction.

[first lines]

Hildegard Fell:
[to the camera] My name is Hildegard. Hildegard Fell. I'm writing about my hometown, Essington, Massachusetts and especially about Mr. Anderson. Mr. John Anderson. I'm trying to be absolutely honest about everybody, including myself, and that's the hardest part of all. My mother and father don't understand me. No one does really. My father is a minister, and it's not nice to criticize him. But I think he's just the teensiest bit too good-looking for a minister. Now, my mother, she's not a bit too beautiful. She's just right. Someday when my teeth grow back in, I'll probably look just like her.

[last lines]

Hildegard Fell:
[to the camera] And Mr. Anderson was a man greatly beloved. He did good things and never told on anyone, even when they told on him. He was the kindest man I ever knew, next to my father.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Thus ends tonight's story. After seeing it, I think you'll treat your neighbor more kindly. After all, he may be a former ax murderer. Of course, there's nothing to worry about. He's probably out of practice. I hope you'll join us next time when we shall present another story of mystery and/or suspense. Good night.

Himself - Host:
It seems to me that she could take my blood pressure with a tire gauge.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening.

[reacts to shrill humming]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Some of our late viewers tuning in. One of the commonest questions that people ask of a producer of mystery motion pictures is, "Which is written first, the words or the music?" In our case, the background music always comes first. After it is written, we sprinkle the score liberally with sound effects, and then hire an author to write appropriate scenes to accompany the music, quiet scenes to coincide with the somber passages, and scenes of violence to synchronize with the noisier sections. Finally, we garnish this potpourri with a title composed of from one to four words, selected because they are eye-catching and provocative. And we arrange them in a manner designed to titillate and confuse. Let me show you what one of our stories sounds like before it is written.

[Hitchcock waves a baton as we hear women screaming, gunfire, burglar alarms, police sirens, crashes, etc.]

Alfred Hitchcock:
How fortissimo can you get? I trust this has been educational. I deliberately cut that number short because it was the music for tonight's story, "Alibi Me," and I didn't want you to know how it comes out. If you haven't already guessed, here is the way it begins.

[first lines]

Lucky Moore:
No knock on the door? No "Can I come in please?" Just no class.

Georgie Minnelli:
I want a showdown!

[last lines]

Messenger Boy:
Oh, I almost forgot. There's a message goes with the lollipop. "To the biggest sucker in town."

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Well, that was a surprise. The pistol shot Georgie used to kill Lucky wasn't in the original score. But that's what happens when the musician who plays the revolver is allowed to improvise. Naturally, Georgie was given life imprisonment, while the offending musician got off with a 10-year-sentence. Next time, we plan to bring you more music and sound effects and another story to accompany them. Good night.

Himself - Host:
Good evening. This misty bit of ectoplasm forming on the inside of your television screen is one Alfred Hitchcock, coming to you tonight from across that great barrier that divides the quick from the dead: the Atlantic Ocean. I have materialized tonight for the express purpose of warning you; that during tonight's seance, you will witness a playlet entitled "And So Died Riabouchinska". But first, I would like to make an announcement to those of you who can't stay until the end... the butler did it.

[introduction - Hitchcock is reading a book when he notices the viewer]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Oh. Good evening. I've been reading a mystery story. I find them very relaxing. They take my mind off my work. These little books are quite nice. Of course, they can never replace hardcover books. They're just as good for reading, but they make very poor doorstops. Tonight's story by Louis Pollock is one that appeared in this collection. I think you will find it properly terrifying, but like the other plays of our series, it is more than mere entertainment. In each of our stories, we strive to teach a lesson or point a little moral. Advice like Mother used to give. You know. "Walt softly but carry a big stick." "Strike first and ask questions later." That sort of thing. Tonight's story tells about a business tycoon and will give you something to ponder - if you have ever given an employee the sack or if you intend to. You'll see it after the sponsor's story, which like ours, also strive to teach a little lesson or point a little moral.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Well, that was a bit of a near thing. He reminded me of my own situation. Imagine, if you can, the terror of being inside a television set, knowing that any moment, the viewer may shut you off, and being powerless to prevent it. And I go through this every week. My only consolation is that some portions of our program are so fascinating, that they hold the viewer spellbound. Such an episode follows immediately, and then I'll be back again.

[commercial break]

Alfred Hitchcock:
There, now. That really held you in suspense, didn't it? For more of the same, I recommend you tune in next week at this time. I shall see you, then. Bonsoir.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[wearing a chef's hat] Good evening. Tonight we offer you a generous portion of mystery, a pinch of comedy, just a soupcon of a commercial, all seasoned by a few irrelevant comments from your host. As you may know, food is a hobby of mine. I don't claim to be an expert cook, but I am rather a good eater. If you will wander into my kitchen, I'll allow you to watch me as I concoct some delicacy to tempt your palate.

[camera follows him to what looks like a science lab]

Alfred Hitchcock:
I cannot abide careless cookery. Let me see. I've, uh, I've just added 10 cc's of sugar. All that is left is to add the white of one egg. And by the white, I do not refer to the clear gelatinous substance inside. Naturally, I mean the shell. This is where most amateur cooks make their mistakes. While you are waiting for me to finish, I suggest you turn your attention to tonight's story. It is called "Conversation Over a Corpse." It sounds like perfect dinner conversation.

[first lines]

Cissie Enright:
[singing snatches of a song] Who laughed with delight... You... frown... In the old churchyard... Gave her a smile... And trembled... And alone... [Joanna enters] Oh, it's you, Joanna.

Joanna Enright:
Maybe we could take him out in sections.

Cissie Enright:
Sections? Oh. But wouldn't that be terribly untidy? I mean, mama's rug.

Joanna Enright:
He's alive! Oh, what a nuisance this is. Now we have to kill him again.

Cissie Enright:
[brings out bug spray] If just a little will kill a fly, a whole can will do Mr. Brenner. It will be neat and very sanitary, too.

Cissie Enright:
We could poison him again, but we've used up all the capsules.

Joanna Enright:
I know! Weed killer! We didn't use it all on the roses.

Joanna Enright:
Cissie, there's plenty of it. And it says on the label, "70% arsenic." How do you think we ought to give it to him?

Cissie Enright:
Oh, with orange juice, I should think. That's the way I always take those nasty medicines.

[last lines]

Cissie Enright:
Thank you, Mr. Brenner, for telling the police exactly what happened. My, my, I hope they hurry. Everything's so upset.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
She was no sissy. As a matter of fact, that was her downfall. She wanted to steady her nerves before the police came, so she took a few slugs. Very sad. Except for the newspapers who detected a love triangle. The picture papers had a more fun than at a hanging. Well, so much for tonight's cooking demonstration. I hope I've made everything clear. Next time, I shall show you how to prepare an exotic delicacy. White hunter ? la Mau Mau. You'll be the talk of your neighborhood. I shall also reveal one of my own culinary secrets, how to remove the wrapper from a frozen food package without tearing the directions. Good night.

[opening narration]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Oh, good evening, onlookers. I seem to be stuck. I don't suppose you see a place for a red seven. No, of course not. This program isn't in color. That's right. You can't distinguish colors, can you? There's nothing to winning, really. That is, if you happen to be blessed with a keen eye, an agile mind and no scruples whatsoever. Tonight's play is called "The Crack of Doom." As the title suggests, "The Crack of Doom" is a story about Mason Bridges, his wife, Jessie, his secretary, Della, his friends, Tom Ackley and Sam Clinker. And it begins in the club car of a New York-Chicago streamliner.

[first lines]

Tom Ackley:
Can I get you a fresh one, Mason?

Mason Bridges:
Uh, no thanks.

[last lines]

Friend:
Bet you for the drinks, Tom.

Tom Ackley:
Not on your life, brother.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
I hope you weren't displeased by the lack of bloodshed in tonight's story. It's impossible for us to stage a murder every night. We're running out of victims. Of course, we could replenish our supply by changing this into an audience-participation show. However, for the present, at least, I think we'll muddle along the old way. That's all for tonight. Next time I appear, we shall have another story to tell you. And I hope you will allow us to come into your living room. It's, uh, terribly stuffy, closed up in this dusty television set. Good night.

Sam Klinker:
Mason, friendship ceases when the first card is dealt.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening.

Echo:
Good evening.

Alfred Hitchcock:
[whispering] Good evening. Certain parties have been objecting to my candid remarks. So, I'm doing tonight's show from this sealed chamber. It's as quiet as a tomb. Which is not surprising...

Echo:
Good evening.

Alfred Hitchcock:
... since it was the only type of structure available that suited our...

Echo:
Certain parties have been objecting to my candid remarks. So, I am doing tonight's show from this sealed chamber. Which is not surprising.

Alfred Hitchcock:
Are you quite finished?... Here, in a moment, is tonight's play. It is entitled "Crackpot."

Echo:
Are you quite finished?

[Hitchcock shrugs and sits down, defeated]

[first lines]

Ray Loomis:
Oh, what about that, huh?

Meg Loomis:
What about what?

Ray Loomis:
You get a honeymoon once in your life, and I have to get a flat tire.

Meg Loomis:
Do you mean me, darling?

[last lines]

Moon:
That's pretty stupid. It'll ruin the whole plan. Forgot to shut off the alarm.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
We wanted to withhold the end of that story, but decided it was better that you learn the truth about Ray Loomis now than later. [someone punches a hole through the wall] I knew it. It's the ITA. It's futile to try to escape. We shall be back soon with another play. Don't you try to escape. Good night.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening, students of the macabre. This evening's lecture has as its text the short story "De Mortuis" translated from the Latin. This means "about the dead." At the risk of being facetious, I would like to point out that Latin is a dead language. Thank you. It is rewarding to know that there are still a few students interested in achieving high marks. If you can't hear me in the back of the room, please raise your hand and adjust the volume control. Regrettably, the author wrote only his title in Latin, and did the story in English. Writers are always compromising to attain commercial success. I shall leave it to your judgment as to whether or not it would have sounded better in Latin.

[first lines]

Bud:
Anybody home? Eh, prof? Prof, fish are biting right now. What about it? You in here? Guess he's not home.

[last lines]

Irene Rankin:
Well, what is it?

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
And so, just like many a Hollywood movie star, Irene Rankin was immortalized in concrete. But Professor Rankin was not so fortunate. He remarried. His crime was later discovered and he paid the supreme penalty. I have asked one of the actors to come out after the show, for I want to congratulate him on a splendid performance, and I'm sure you do, too. He played the most ferocious of the rats, a characterization that was quite a departure for him. Offstage, he's entirely different, as you can see. He's a family man, never seen in the nightclubs. He's just like the fellow who lives next door to you.

[the rat squeaks]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Thank you. We have another story. Oh, here it is. But, um, I'm afraid there isn't time enough to present it. We'll have to do it next time. Until then, good night.

Himself - Host:
[in the bathtub] This is what I get for having a telephone in the bathroom.

Himself - Host:
I was once arrested for indecent exposure when I removed a Halloween mask.

Himself - Host:
I'm inventing a device that should make tennis much more enjoyable. It suddenly raises the net half a foot just as the victor leaps over to offer condolences to the loser. Through it, I hope to add what is lacking in tennis... laughs.

Joe Kedzie:
You cut the rope, but you forgot I had the key!

Madge Griffin:
I'll throw the money down again, while you give me the key so I can get you out. Please, Joe, do you want us all to die here? You'll have the money, Joe.

Joe Kedzie:
Sure, I'll have it, with a broken leg 40 feet deep in a hole in the desert! And when you come back with somebody else to get it... next week... or next month, I'll be dead, won't I? But I'm gonna die a lot easier than you. I'm gonna die down here where it's dark and cool. I'm not gonna die with the sun burning into that white skin. I'm not going to be screaming out for water while it eats my eyes out.

Joe Kedzie:
You've got $100,000, Madge. Buy yourself something with it. Buy yourself the key to a second hand truck!

Margaret Goames:
[Handing a bottle of perfume to Harold] What's this?

Harold George Goames:
I like to think it came from Bulgaria. They say the largest rose fields in all the world are located in the Maritza valley. And the maidens gather the flowers early in the morning while the dew is still fresh upon them.

Harold George Goames:
Suicides... sixteen thousand and eight. [loads gun as camera pans away] Sixteen thousand and NINE! [BANG]

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[carrying a bow and arrow] Good evening. Have you, um, seen a small boy with an apple on his head? I know he's around here somewhere, but my eyes aren't what they used to be. Oh, oh, there he is. [shoots the arrow off-screen] I missed again. I think I'd better quit. I even missed the boy that time. Tonight, the flickering shadows on our magic lantern screen tell a story of life in the big city. It is called, "Father and Son."

[first lines]

Sam Saunders:
What's this supposed to be for?

Joe Saunders:
Well, you said you had to have some more money.

[last lines]

Joe Saunders:
Did you hurt yourself, son? Did you hurt yourself?

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Unfortunately, he wasn't. Sam was one of those person for whom all things seem to work out well. No matter what happens to him, he always manages to land on his head. That's all for tonight. Next time, we plan a similar foray into your parlor. I hope you'll be home. Good night.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening, friends and others. Tonight... Madam, some of our audience are having difficulty in seeing. Would you mind?

[woman in foreground removes her head]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Thank you. On the theory that what was good enough for Shakespeare is good enough for us, we planned to open tonight's play with a maid soliloquizing as she dusts. Unfortunately, tonight happens to be the maid's night out. I'm expecting an important call.

[phone rings]

Alfred Hitchcock:
It must be Scotland Yard calling.

[into phone]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Yes? Thank you. It was. They say I am being watched. That's very gratifying for a television performer. Tonight's play is entitled "Fog Closing In." Fog.

[fog appears]

Alfred Hitchcock:
I don't suppose any of you are familiar with that word. It's an American expression meaning... Well, it's really hard to explain to anyone who hasn't experienced it. The word has no English equivalent. Oh, well, it isn't too important.

[as the fog envelops him]

Alfred Hitchcock:
We'd better go on with the play.

[first lines]

Mary Summers:
No.

Arthur Summers:
Don't worry. It won't go off. I know how to handle a gun.

[last lines]

Mary Summers:
Yes, daddy. I'm all right now. Now I can come home.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
This concludes our play for tonight. Unhappily for Mary Summers, however, there is more to her story, for she subsequently found herself in one of those institutions she had come to fear. Next time we shall be back with another story. Until then, good night.

Meyer Fine:
They say that no man's a hero to his valet. Well, believe me, I can understand that.

Eve Ross:
I don't care what happens to him.

Chester Lacey:
That's the problem! You don't care what happens

Chester Lacey:
When they catch me they'll ask me if I'm sorry I did it. My wife... yeah, I'm sorry about her, I wish I hadn't have done it, but that guy! He had it coming, so did she but it wouldn't have happened if it weren't for him!

Jordan Ross:
Why *did* you push his arm?

Eve Ross:
[crying] You Jordan, me Eve.

Eve Ross:
They won't shoot at a woman; they might think I'm your wife, wouldn't even stop the car.

Jordan Ross:
Your name's Lacy, right? Yes I read about you in the paper the other night. When you killed those two people, that was without premeditation, wasn't it?

Chester Lacey:
Yeah, but it won't matter now anyway.

Mr. X:
I envy you, Mr. Crabtree. I deeply envy you. You have emotions. I'm entirely devoid of feeling.

Bert Haber:
Joey's worried.

Georgia:
What - about me? Shouldn't be. I can take care of myself.

[introduction]

Suit of Armor:
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is Alfred Hitchcock. [Hitchcock walks on screen] Tonight's play takes place in merry old England, and is called "I Killed the Count."

Alfred Hitchcock:
When they asked me to wear this, I demurred. I didn't realize it would be an invitation for automation to take over. [looks inside the helmet] Empty. Now what does that imply? Oh, well! Let the play begin.

[first lines]

Polly Stephens:
Count Mattoni, your tea.

Inspector Davidson:
We seldom indulge in games at Scotland Yard, Mr. Froy.

Inspector Davidson:
The count was killed last night.

Bernard K. Froy:
Yeah, I know. I killed him.

[last lines]

Inspector Davidson:
[stammering] Did you say *you* killed him?

Lord Sorrington:
Yes, that's right. I killed the count.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Well, this is embarrassing how time is running out and here we are with an unfinished story on our hands. I'm afraid you'll just have to wait until our next show to find out more about just who killed the count. Personally, I shall welcome a week in which to think up some answers. After all, Froy and Lord Sorrington can't both be telling the truth. There's nothing I detest more than a murderer who tells fibs. Next time, we shall continue the strange case of Count Victor Mattoni. Thus far, our desperate detectives have two very good suspects. But their confessions seem to ask more questions than they answer. If all this has managed to pique your curiosity, please join us for the next installment. Oh, I know what you're thinking. No, I did not kill the count. Good night.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening. Tonight's play is called "I Killed the Count." Now, I know what you're thinking. Last week's play was also called "I Killed the Count." And you think tonight's is just a revival. On the contrary, since we were unable to finish the story last time, we shall have another stab at it tonight. I'd better fill in some of the details for those of you who were careless enough to miss the first episode. I hope you realize the trouble you're putting us to. Just don't let it happen again. First of all, Count Victor Mattoni was found quite dead in the living room of his London flat. There was a single bullet hole in his forehead. It's my personal opinion that this was a contributing factor to his death. Inspector Davidson and his assistant Raines, the investigating detectives, have uncovered a number of clues. Among them, two letters. One led them to a Bernard K. Froy. And another written by Lord Sorrington, an industrialist. Before the detectives were quite settled down to work, they are faced with an embarrassingly oversupply of confessions. For, both Froy and Lord Sorrington confessed to a murder that only one of them could have committed. I'm certain this is all quite clear. But for the benefit of any small children who may have missed some of the plot machinations, here to clarify are two brief scenes from our last show, after which our story continues.

[first lines]

Lord Sorrington:
You see, Inspector, Mattoni was married to my daughter, Helen.

Inspector Davidson:
Confound it all, I've never had two people competing for a murder before.

[last lines]

Mullet:
Yes, sir. That's right. I killed the count.

Inspector Davidson:
Oh, no. No, no. No, two's enough. Every Tom, Dick and Harry who enters this flat telling me he killed the count. I don't have to stand for this sort of thing. I won't have it. Do you hear? I won't have it!

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Well, we've done it again. We still haven't finished the story. How extremely careless of us. But I promise you on my honor the truth will be out next time. I've excused the actors until we return when they will present the final act of our play. Unfortunately, since you are all accessories after the fact, I cannot permit you to leave the room. You may, however, discuss the case among yourselves. Who killed the count and why? Only one person could have done it. Was it Mullet, the liftman? Did Bernard Froy do it? Was it Lord Sorrington? Or was it a fourth person? Who is the guilty party? Tune in next time and find out. Good night.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Those of you who have been sitting on the edge of your chairs since last time will be glad to know that tonight we shall definitely present the final chapter in our story, "I Killed the Count." For those of you who have missed the earlier installments, or have lost your scorecards, I shall present a r?sum?. Within a few hours after Count Victor Mattoni was found dead in his London flat with a single bullet hole in his head, the detectives found themselves with three persons, each of whom confessed that he, and he alone, killed the count. They were Bernard Froy, an American; Mullet, the lift man; and Lord Sorrington, an important industrialist. In each case, there is some corroborating evidence. Mullet obligingly left his fingerprints on the count's wallet; Froy had written an incriminating letter; and Lord Sorrington's pistol was found on the scene. There was also a fourth bit of evidence. Skin and blood under the count's fingernails, indicated he had scratched his assailant, yet none of the three suspects bore any scratches. Neither Froy, nor Lord Sorrington, nor... I don't know why I bother to explain all of this, for the brief three scenes which preface tonight's story will make everything quite clear.

[first lines]

Raines:
Excuse me, sir. Inspector, don't you think you ought to talk to Mullet now, sir?

[last lines]

Raines:
It's lucky he deserved killing, isn't it, sir?

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
I knew we'd finish that story if we kept at it. I'm sure Inspector Davidson is longing for the good old days when on investigating a robin's death, he simply went out and arrested the first sparrow he saw carrying a bow and an empty quiver. A policeman's lot is not a happy one. However, the Inspector's bulldog spirit did finally pay off, and our little band of conspirators eventually faced trial. Fortunately, they were let off with light sentences. In fact, when the jury found out what kind of a chap the count was, it recommended the defendants for the Order of the Garter. This, of course, was the end of our trilogy. Next time we shall resume our policy of telling a complete story on each program. I hope you will join us then. Good night.

Leon Gorwald:
Sheriff, please, you've gotta let me out of here! You can't keep me locked up!

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[sitting on a giant scale as two men fill the other scale with bags of money] Good evening and welcome to "Alfred Hitchcock Presents." [to the men] Thank you. See you next year. [to the audience] We thought you'd like to see this. So many of you have expressed an interest in knowing how I was paid. Now I can afford to go back to my diet. Tonight's play is about a body. Not mine. However, the title is "John Brown's Body."

[first lines]

Harold Skinner:
In my opinion, John, this is the type of furniture we should be making.

Vera Brown:
He'd be a nervous wreck in no time. Oh, what a horrible thought.

Harold Skinner:
It was only an idea.

Vera Brown:
I think it's a wonderful horrible idea.

Psychiatrist:
You know I just came from visiting a dual personality. Both of them feel terrible.

[last lines]

Vera Brown:
I must take him home.

Psychiatrist:
You'd only be taking home his body. His mind is... Well, look for yourself.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
I hope that ending was properly terrifying. [looks in one of the bags] What's this? Nothing but sawdust. Oh, well, two can play at that game. [pats his stomach] That's all I have here. This concludes our program for tonight. On our next program, we shall both be back. Me and my shadow.

[opening narration]

Hitchcock's Stand-In:
Hiya. I'm not Hitchcock. I'm Alfred, his stand-in. Someone has to stand here while the lights and the cameras are adjusted and all that stuff, see? And the old boy just don't have the time. I got the job 'cause I look like him. That's what they say, but not to my face. I see they're rolling him in. You suppose I'll look like that when I'm his age?

Alfred Hitchcock:
That will be all, Alfred.

Hitchcock's Stand-In:
Arrivederci, daddy-O.

Alfred Hitchcock:
Cheeky fellow, isn't he? Unfortunately, he may soon be more than a stand-in. We are planning to send out a second company to tour the provinces, and Alfred will play my part. Which brings us to tonight's thrilling shocker. It is called "Jonathan."

[first lines]

Gil Dalliford:
[narrating] Everything Jonathan ever told me I remember. Even what he said about the water in the boathouse. Was I five or six when I asked him about Mother? "The waves," he said. "Your mother's dying was like the waves, drawn away by a tide, no longer an individual wave, but once again a part of a total surface." Every important moment of my life is a moment I had with Jonathan. Every incident, everything in this room is a memory of Jonathan. This table. We made it together. It took nearly six months because Jonathan insisted it had to be perfect. And this, for the men's doubles at the club. We'd lost the first set and were down four games in the second. And Jonathan looked at me with that funny little grin he had, as much as to say, "All right, Gil, it's all right. There's still time and we can do it!" And we did. We were the perfect team. Why, I wouldn't even call him "Dad" or "Father" like the other kids did. To me, he was always Jonathan. Jonathan, I was right about Rosine. She made you think I was spoiled and unreasonable.

Jonathan Dalliford:
A man is entitled to have something of his own.

[last lines]

Rosie Dalliford:
So it was you, Gil. You killed Jonathan. You're going to have to remember that for the rest of your life.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Those of you who like to see nasty people receive their comeuppance, will be delighted with the results of tonight's tale. Gil took his story to the police, and he and Rosine were promptly punished. She for murder and he for intent to murder. There is, however, a brighter side to all this. Both have become model prisoners. This concludes tonight's divertissement. But please remained tuned to this channel. I am not familiar with the program which follows, nor the one after that. But I have seen the story we are presenting next time, and I think it's worth waiting for. Good night.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[tied to a stake, surrounded by a bundle of sticks] Good evening. Television fans can be so demonstrative and unpredictable. At the time this happened, I was under the impression I was being put on a pedestal. My wife's not going to like this. She's always telling me not to leave my ashes on the floor.

[takes out a cigarette, lights it, throws the match onto the sticks]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Tonight, we present a very warm little story called "Kill with Kindness."

[as smoke rises]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Reception seems to be rather bad tonight. Is your screen clouding up? Mine is. I think we better run a test film first. If you have no difficulty in seeing it, we will show you our story.

[first lines]

Fitzhugh Oldham:
Katherine. Katherine, look at this. Here, dear. Here. Come quick.

[last lines]

Fitzhugh Oldham:
Well, somebody had to do it. See, Mr. Jorgy was overcome with smoke and my sister... Well, you know how women are in an emergency. Poor Katherine, she always loses her head.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[steps away from the stake] I thought I'd better get out of there. I just remembered that my tumbrel is double parked. I shall return next week at the same time to bring you another story and to relate the further adventures of Alfred Hitchcock. Good night.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the first case on today's docket is entitled "Malice Domestic." I hasten to add, however, that "Malice Domestic" is not about the servant problem, nor is it a puff for imported wines. It is concerned with some mysterious doings in a family of three: Carl Borden, his wife Annette, and their charming dog, Cassandra. To give you a clearer picture of exactly what happened, we now transport you to the scene of the crime where we shall reenact it.

[first lines]

Annette Borden:
Oh, there you are, Lorna. Been looking all over for you.

[last lines]

Carl Borden:
I took a big chance, baby, but it worked. The first time I wasn't too sick because I just took a small dose of arsenic. But that second time, oh, oh. That second time you almost lost me altogether. I tell you, I was as sick as a dog.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
You are all wondering, no doubt, how Carl Borden ended up in the jug. It is quite simple. His dog, Cassandra, was really a detective in disguise and turned him in at the next town. It's getting so a man can't even trust his best friend. This concludes this session of our little court of inhuman relations. I hope you will rejoin us when we next present a different case. Good night.

Carlos:
[in a Las Vegas cocktail lounge, proposing the stakes of a bet] Well, I'm thinking of some small thing that you could afford to give away, and if you lose, why, you won't have to feel so bad - such as the little finger on your left hand.

Gambler:
My what?

Carlos:
Is that so strange? He wins - he takes the car. I win - I take his finger. Is that so strange?

Carlos:
I need four things for it. I need some uh, some nails.

Bellhop:
Some nails yes sir.

Carlos:
A hammer.

Bellhop:
A hammer?

Carlos:
And I need a length of good strong cord. And uh, a chopping knife.

Bellhop:
A what sir?

Carlos:
A chopping knife that you can borrow from the kitchen.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening. I've been on Mars where I went for the opening of a new television station. It's all part of a scheme to take the best of our cultural advances to the Martians. Or Martinis, as they prefer to be called. They are highly intelligent and my attempts to educate them were quite successful. Within a matter of minutes, they were able to spell out, "Earthman, go home," using my two companions to form the letters. It was very gratifying. As you have doubtless already guessed, tonight's play is entitled "Martha Mason, Movie Star."

[first lines]

Mabel McKay:
Henry!

Henry McKay:
Coming right up. Sorry, my dear. I'm afraid I overslept this morning. The lodge lasted till all hours. Reading of the treasurer's report. It was very interesting, though.

[last lines]

Police Detective:
The boys saw how well those lilies were doing, so they dug them up to see why. And there was Henry... Hold her for murder.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Poor Mabel. I guess she just didn't have a green thumb. That concludes tonight's entertainment. Next time, we shall be back with another story. Meanwhile, I'm off to another planet. I've always been curious about Venus. Good night.

Alfred Hitchcock:
It seems to me that television is exactly like a gun. Your enjoyment of it is determined by which end of it you're on.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[holding an umbrella] Good evening, friends. Would you all please examine the tops of your television sets and see if one of you doesn't find a goldfish bowl with a crack in it? [puts out his hand to test for rain] Thank you. By the way, I've been asked to announce that some of you are missing this program unnecessarily. You have moved and not kept us informed of your address. So we don't know where to send the show to you. I hope you'll take care of that matter at once. Tonight, we are presenting a tale of mystery and intrigue laid in middle-class suburbia. It is called "Mr. Blanchard's Secret." I realize this doesn't tell you much about the story, but several fine actors have been hired to do that, and I would hate to rob them of the privilege. And so, without further ado, we reveal Mr. Blanchard's secret.

[first lines]

Babs Fenton:
[voice-over] Poor woman. It's a shame I had to kill her off that way. A psychiatrist would probably say that I had some hidden homicidal tendencies or something. Who knows? If I didn't get it off my chest by writing mystery stories, I might end up by committing a few murders myself. Phew! I'm glad it worked out this way, of course. It's so much healthier. Also, it pays better. Otherwise, I'd say that I was pretty normal. Even though my husband, John, doesn't always agree with me. It's my vivid imagination that gives John the most trouble. Poor John. He's a lawyer. Corporations mostly. Crime doesn't even enter his mind. But with me, it's like eating peanuts. Once I start thinking about it, I can't stop. Right now, I'm beginning to think some pretty strange things about the people next door. If I thought about it enough, I could really build it up into a production. Knowing myself, I probably will.

Babs Fenton:
This looks like a set. Ready for the lady to enter on cue.

Babs Fenton:
It doesn't work. They never do for me. I guess I just don't have a red thumb with lighters.

[last lines]

Mrs. Blanchard:
It works now. I had Charles fix it. He's awfully good at that sort of thing. Although he hates to admit it.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
This concludes our show. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must hurry off to a little social affair. A dear friend is guest of honor. It's a stoning. I wouldn't miss it for the world. Good night.

Himself - Host:
By the way, that last commercial was one which was sent to Russia as part of a cultural exchange. I don't know what we received in return. We're afraid to open it.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening. I firmly believe that everyone should indulge now and then in some form of athletic sport, don't you? Personally, I don't require much exercise, since I lead a very Spartan existence. But when I do, I find my needs are adequately filled by such sports as riding or reading the less violent portions of the Sunday papers. Of course, for a true test of bodily coordination, I think there's nothing better than lying in a hammock, but I suppose that would only appeal to those of you who enjoy living dangerously. As for tonight's play, it is called, "My Brother, Richard" and it begins in a country club. By the way, golf is one game I've never cared much for. I don't like the paperwork. I find adding up my strokes too fatiguing.

[first lines]

Laura Ross:
If you keep stuffing papers into that case, Martin, you won't have room for a clean shirt.

[last lines]

Martin Ross:
Your boy is safe now, Mrs. Kopeck. We all are because of you. That'll be our defense. Yours and mine.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Thus ends "My Brother, Richard." Needless to say, Mrs. Grant was brought to trial, but fortunately, the jury took into account many of the circumstances which we saw reenacted tonight. On our next program, we shall present another story, and I will also be back to provide the marginalia. Until then, good night.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening. Tonight's play is entitled, "Nightmare in 4-D." It will be presented in only two dimensions, however. We could present it in 3-D. In fact, we did in America, but the viewers kept getting involved and during one of the more violent scenes, we lost half our audience. We wouldn't want that to happen here. In this case, 4-D indicates the number of an apartment. And "Nightmare in 4-D" concerns the goings-on in that apartment. The goings-on will begin going on in just a moment.

[first lines]

Miss Elliott:
[nearly dropping her packages] Oh, darn!

Harry Parker:
Hold it! Hold it! I got it. All right. All right.

Harry Parker:
Miss Elliot, I can't get involved in a murder. I'm a married man.

[last lines]

Lieutenant Orsatti:
She was in the bedroom. Mrs. Bolton had her on the phone complaining about the TV being too loud. The murder was committed while they were talking. Any other ideas, Mr. Parker? I didn't think so. You can call your lawyer now if you like.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
That was amusing. Although I think Norma was a poor sport about it all. And now the time has come for us to part. But, please. No long goodbyes. Don't even look back. I want to remember you as you were. So, until next time, good night.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[sitting in front of a mirror] Good evening. The entertainment industry is always crying for new faces. I've decided to give them one. Not that there's anything wrong with the old one. In fact, I think it's rather good.

[the mirror breaks]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Well, it could have been worse. What if I had cracked?

[searching through wigs]

Alfred Hitchcock:
See, here's the one.

[putting on a wig and glasses]

Alfred Hitchcock:
I've always wanted to be someone else.

[looks at himself]

Alfred Hitchcock:
That won't do. I look like a near-sighted hearth rug. By an odd coincidence, we have a story about a man who decided to be someone other than himself. And by an equally odd coincidence, it is rehearsed and ready to start. Here it is.

[first lines]

Seymour Johnston:
[narrating] I suppose you could say it began that Easter Sunday. I was spending the weekend at my Aunt Muriel's house in Norwich, Connecticut. A place I was forced to spend many weekends. Not that I found my aunt's company particularly congenial, far from it. But the food was fair and even she didn't have the effrontery to charge me for my visits. Not that she wasn't capable of doing even that. As a matter of fact, nothing my aunt did would be too surprising. But that weekend, she went too far. Even for a person as good-natured as myself.

[last lines]

Police Detective:
There's nothing dreadful about it. It's just a little difficult when you want to disguise yourself and you've managed to convince yourself that something isn't there. So you don't bother to disguise that. Particularly something as conspicuous as that birthmark of yours.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Poor Seymour. It couldn't have happened to a more deserving person. Um, I've decided not to be someone else after all. If I won't be myself, who will? However, allow me to indulge my exhibitionist tendencies with this quick-change demonstration. The Alfred Hitchcock of today.

[turns away from the camera, busies himself, then turns back unchanged]

Alfred Hitchcock:
The Alfred Hitchcock of thirty years ago. The secret of this transformation is rather simple. I just removed my wallet. And now, I shall remove myself. But soon I shall return with another story. Good night.

[introduction]

Narrator:
This is a police lineup. Here desperate criminals who have been brought to bay appear before the detective force and are questioned by the chief detective. Listen.

Chief Detective:
Take your hat off. Name: Hitchcock comma Alfred. Height: five foot six. Weight: prisoner refuses to make a statement. Here's his record. 1940, picked up on "Suspicion." 1942, "Spellbound." 1944, "Notorious." 1955, "Rear Window." 1956, "The Man Who Knew Too Much." Anything to say, Hitchcock?

Alfred Hitchcock:
Well, sir, I admit it ain't a good record. But I'm trying to do better.

Chief Detective:
Better? You call this latest charge "doing better"? Appearing on television!

Alfred Hitchcock:
I'm sorry, sir. But my family was hungry.

Chief Detective:
Now, take him away.

Alfred Hitchcock:
Wait a minute, sir. You've got the wrong man. Don't you want to see a sample of me work?

Chief Detective:
Okay, here's what we found on him when we picked him up.

[first lines]

Kelly:
Hold it, kid!

[last lines]

Skinner #21:
You picked a good one for your first time, didn't you, kid?

Chief of Detectives:
[off-screen] Number 17, take the circle, please.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Occasionally, in our series, we touch on a subject that is far too real to be made the butt of my usual flippant remarks. Tonight's story of juvenile delinquency is certainly a case in point. And we have presented it with a hope that it might, in some small way, throw a little light on what has become a serious national problem.

Himself - Host:
[reading the scale he's standing on] Will one of you, please, get off?

Himself - Host:
I've decided to give up being a jockey. The horses all went in and bought me an automobile.

Mr. Cooney:
How much do you have?

Fran Holland:
About a dollar or so.

Mr. Cooney:
Give it to me. [she hands over her purse] One dollar... [picks the coins]

Fran Holland:
Hey you're leaving me without a cent!

Mr. Cooney:
Oh now I wouldn't do that. 15 cents, you can keep that for el and bus fare.

Fran Holland:
15 cents, bus fare! [thinking] Why not? It could work.

Fran Holland:
[paying her debt] A 20 dollar bill, and five dollars in change. I think you'll find, Mr. Cooney that there's about 15 cents extra in there, you can keep that for el and bus fare.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening. Most of you have doubtless read how Anne Boleyn lost her head. King Henry VIII, no longer fascinated, said, "Let her be decapitated." Thereupon the legend goes, her ghost roamed about each night with utmost dignity and charm, with her head tucked underneath her arm. [camera pulls back to reveal Hitchcock holding his own extra head] Now with two heads it occurs to me, I can think more clearly than with three. However, if the worst should come, one head's a basic minimum. Therefore, in my work, I hardly dare to roam about without one spare. Tonight's legend tells of modern life and how to solve a problem: wife.

[first lines]

Sam Jacoby:
I was only doing 35, officer.

Motorcycle Cop:
What I stopped you for has got nothing to do with speeding.

[last lines]

Motorcycle Cop:
No, that's pretty dangerous. You better have it fixed now. Follow me.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Thank you. One less mile to go. Next week another script, another show. When electrons glide across your screen, bringing some new and unforeseen brand of murder. I mean the quiet kind, perpetrated solely in our mind. A gentle thump. A soothing splash. No bullet, shriek or livid gash. No stains, no fumes, no ugly splatter. We use only the purest subject matter. Good night.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[locked in the stockades] Good evening. Methinks I should never have come to the colonies. Here I am, the producer's dream, a captive audience. Unfortunately, knowing the producer, I have already seen tonight's story several times. It is called, "One for the Road." They say there are two sides to every question, but tonight's little problem has three sides. For it is that age old bit of marital geometry, the eternal triangle.

[first lines]

Charles Hendricks:
Marsha?

Marsha Hendricks:
I'm coming, darling.

Charles Hendricks:
Where are my cigarettes?

[last lines]

Charles Hendricks:
Why not? One for the road.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
It's good to be free again, which is more than Beryl Abbott is. You see, she was arrested and paid for her crime. Next time we shall be back with another story. Good night.

[first lines]

Felix Edward Manbridge:
[holding a 50-pound forged check] A hundred pounds? It's out of the question! And I'm astonished at your having the nerve to ask for it - on top of this! John, don't you realize that your signing my name to a check is forgery?

John Manbridge:
You needn't blame me for that! I wouldn't have done it, if I had any alternative!

Elsa Span:
[delirious] He killed me... he killed me...

Himself - Host:
You see: crime does not pay. Not even on television. You must have a sponsor. Here is ours, after which I'll return.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening. I'm Alfred Hitchcock. And tonight, I'm presenting the first in a series of stories of suspense and mystery called, oddly enough, "Alfred Hitchcock Presents". I shall not act in these stories, but will only make appearances. Something in the nature of an accessory before an after the fact - to give the title to those of you who can't read, and to tidy up afterwards for those who don't understand the endings. Tonight's play-let is really a sweet little story. It is called "Revenge". It will follow...

[Hitchcock looks off camera then back to the viewer]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Oh, dear, I see the actors won't be ready for another 60 seconds. However, thanks to our sponsor's remarkable foresight, we have a message that will fit in here nicely.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Well, they were a pathetic couple. We had intended to call that one "Death of a Salesman", but there were protests from certain quarters. Naturally, Elsa's husband was caught, indicted, tried, convicted, sentenced and paid his debt to society for taking the law into his own hands. You see, crime does not pay. Not even on television. You must have a sponsor. Here is ours, after which I'll return.

[commercial break]

Alfred Hitchcock:
That was beautifully put. In fact, after hearing that, there's nothing more I wish to add, so good night until next week.

Hospital Cashier:
[Referring to Jones] That's a nice mam, a nice little man, I bet you 8 to 5 he doesn't last to Tuesday.

Himself - Host:
You needn't sit there staring. We're not going to show you anymore. In fact, I'm not even going to tell you what happened. Television audiences are becoming entirely too dependent. You expect us to do everything for you. [he holds up his hands and flexes his fingers; they squeak and creak loudly, as the door did] This oil is terribly difficult to get rid of. Look, while I'm working on this, please listen closely to the following and do exactly what they tell you.

Albert Shrike:
What was that hanging from his belt in the back?

Elmer Shore:
A longshoreman's hook! What temperature is it now?

Albert Shrike:
[reads the thermometer] 92 degrees Fahrenheit!

Himself - Host:
[while defying gravity] Twice I've been mistaken for a dirigible. They keep trying to deflate me. I'm certain by now you've guessed that tonight's play is about gravity and people who resist the earth's pull. You're wrong. It's about an undertaker and one of the persons he undertakes.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[carrying a cello case] Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. A special word to those of you who have been arrested while speeding home to see this show. I can do nothing to bail you out. And I'm afraid the magistrate is only slightly in my debt. I shall, however, do everything I can to make you forget your troubles. Tonight's narrative is about gangsters. And I thought I'd best test some of the props. [takes out a machine gun and shoots it; it makes the sounds of piano keys] I would like to play "The Flight of the Bumblebee." But we must get on with the show.

[first lines]

Baldy:
King?

Louis Koster:
Yes?

Baldy:
Cutter's here again.

Harry Silver:
I'd hate to take something as warm as that and turn her into something cold and dead.

[last lines]

Harry Silver:
Good. Now I think I'll kill you.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
To summarize the next reel, Harry did as he threatened, and Marian lives happily ever after. She had a rich, full life. It was too bad Harry was not there to share it with her, but of course, crime does not pay, murder will out, etcetera, etcetera. And now, good night until we again bring you a saga of suspense and/or mystery. Good night.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[holding a voodoo doll and a hypodermic needle] Oh, oh, good evening. I was just about to send greetings to an old friend. I'm sure modern, civilized methods of homicide are much more efficient. But I don't care for them. I abhor violence. That is why on this program we use stabbings, shootings and garrotings only when they are absolutely essential to the plot. Or when the whim strikes us. Tonight's play begins in a museum. And the title is "The Cheney Vase." That's all I intend to tell you. You'll have to figure the rest out for yourselves. And now our sponsor wishes to say a few words designed to send you rushing out immediately to buy his products. But please endeavor to restrain yourselves. I don't want you to miss our story.

[first lines]

Homer Koether:
I don't intend to discuss it any further. I want you to leave the museum this afternoon.

[last lines]

Martha Cheney:
I wouldn't do that Mr. Endicott. That one might be the original. And I wouldn't try to make me tell you which one it is. I'm a poor, deluded old woman. Probably mad, you know. I wouldn't be able to tell one from the other. You know they're really rather good, those copies. I'd probably be able to sell them for a great deal of money.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
And so another American primitive was born. Thinking our audience might be interested in obtaining a memento of tonight's story, we asked, uh, Grandma Cheney to whip up a few thousand more vases. And we're prepared to make an amazing offer on a strictly first-come-first-serve basis. Listen closely. This will not be repeated. If you wish one of these lovely vases, just send us your name and address together with $45,000 in cash. Please do not send stamps or coins. And now our sponsor wishes to tell you of an equally amazing opportunity for your benefit. After which I'll be back. [after commercial] My, they did go fast, didn't they? Next week, we shall return... [accidentally knocks over the one vase that's left] Please don't be alarmed. [he picks up the vase, which is unharmed] Next week we shall return with another story. Good night.

Lyle Endicott:
Mr. Koether, the work I did here as your assistant could have been done by a reasonably intelligent child. Leaving won't be exactly a hardship. However, you're rather conveniently forgetting my severance pay.

Homer Koether:
If you want to make an issue of the money, Lyle, I'll be glad to take it up with the board. I'm prepared to go completely over your record for the three months you've been here. Your inability to arrive even approximately on time, the four days off last month with no reason whatsoever...

Lyle Endicott:
It was spring, Mr. Koether, though I doubt whether you were aware of that.

Homer Koether:
I want you out of this building by three o'clock.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[in a library] Good evening. I understand it is fashionable to introduce television plays from a library. And so, I thought I would preface tonight's play, "The Cream of the Jest" in this way. [camera pulls back to reveal that he's in a public library with other patrons] "The Cream of the Jest" is a play about the theatrical business. [patrons shush him; he continues, whispering] And it has as its central character a fading actor named Charles Hanover Gresham. Our play will... [patrons shush him again; he continues quickly] Our play begins in just one moment!

[first lines]

Jerry the Bartender:
[to a customer] Thank you.

Charles Gresham:
Hello, Jerry. How fresh and dewy you look.

Charles Gresham:
I'm dead when I'm not doing a job of acting. You know, sometimes when I'm in my room, I go to the mirror, and I... I look into it, trying to see who I am, who the "me" is. I talk to myself. And all the characters I've ever played pass in front of me. And I'm every one of them, but that's all I am. There's no real me, only the characters. Don't you see? Then I... then I go back and I sit and I wait. I wait for somebody, somebody like you, Wayne, to call me, to bring me back to life again. I'm only real when I'm acting. The rest of the time I'm nothing. That's why I drink. Don't you see?

[last lines]

Mr. Roper:
[reading] "From the office of Wayne Campbell. Listen pal, you can't shove me off. I know too much." Wayne Campbell.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Well, there's no use taking that book home with us now we've finished it. By the way, in case you are interested, the police learned of Wayne Campbell's connection with tonight's crime... I can't understand why this coat doesn't seem to fit. I just bought it. There seems to be a message stitched inside. "Occupancy by more than one person contrary to law." Well, no wonder. Next time, we shall return with another story. Join us then. Good night.

Ed:
I'm working on a theory... only thing those two victims had in common was that they were alone at night, and they were both blonde. [looks at Steve] What's the matter, Steve?

Steve Grant:
I was just thinking... Ellen's all alone, and she's blonde.

Ed:
I've wanted to do that for a long time and now that I have, I wish I hadn't.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening. You will excuse me if I speak rapidly, but I haven't much time. I'm playing some idiotic children's game, and I'm supposed to stand against this wall, blindfolded, and with my hands tied behind me. While I'm standing here waiting for something to happen, you may watch tonight's drama, "The Dangerous People." I shall join you later. [a machine gun fires bullets in a straight line across the wall] Thank you, but no more applause.

[first lines]

Bellefontaine:
Oh, hello.

Jones:
Hello.

Bellefontaine:
[voice-over] It was foolish to hurry so. What's the matter with me? Now I'm out of breath. I'll stay here a minute to get my breath, or else he'll ask what's the matter, and I'll tell him it's asthma, and he'll tell me about how his wife had asthma, or his boss, or his cousin Wilbur.

[last lines]

Maniac:
I wanna go back where it's safer.

Man in White Coat:
That's where we're going.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[rubbing his stomach] That's all for this evening. I think we shall be back another time with another story. Until then, good night. [walks away from the wall, revealing bullet holes directly behind where he stood]

Himself - Host:
Well, that's the way the old bullet bounces.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[fishing in a bathtub] Shh! I can't understand it. Of course. How stupid of me. I forgot to put in the water. I must do that at once if I want to catch anything today. All of this is not as absurdly irrelevant as you think. For if you listen very closely, you will hear the words "bath tub" mentioned in tonight's script. Of course, other topics are mentioned which we could have discussed. For example, the story is about marriage. However, I don't feel that marriage should be discussed on television. It's too controversial. No question about it. We are much safer with a bathtub. And now, in a moment, here is tonight's op?ra bouffe, "The End of Indian Summer." Like all stories about marriage it has a great deal of romance in it. But watch for that bathtub.

[first lines]

Henderson:
[on the phone] All right, all right. You don't have to shout. There's nothing wrong with my ears. Anyone can make a mistake. No, I am not gonna fire him. Not yet.

[last lines]

Joe Rogers:
Well, I suppose it all depends now on whether she takes her bath before he eats breakfast.

Saunders:
Or vice versa.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
There's was truly a wedding of December and December. It ended in a draw, with no one the winner except the insurance companies. And now for the epilogue of tonight's story, after which I'll scamper back. [after commercial] We have now passed another tombstone along television's highway to culture. Please join us next week when we continue our pilgrimage.

Morty Lenton:
Oh - Freddie, boy. We just been dropping your name.

Fred Logan:
[laughs dryly] How clumsy.

Himself - Host:
Tonight's story is entitled "The Greatest Monster of Them All", which certainly should be a cue for the sponsor to speak up.

Alfred Hitchcock:
[holding a gun] This is for the man who has everything. It's to enable you to take some of it away from him.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[lying down] Good evening. Since you're allowed to make yourselves comfortable during our show, I thought it only right that I be allowed to relax. After all, the rules of television seem weighed far too much in favor of the viewer. You can relax in your home, while I must stay here in this drafty studio. I'm not feeling a bit well. But the show must go on, whether you like it or not. And tonight's show is called "The Indestructible Mr. Weems."

[first lines]

Harry Brown:
Have any luck?

Mr. Brodheit:
Hmm? Oh, not bad, shot a 41 on the front nine, then a birdie three on...

[last lines]

Clarence Weems:
It was the least I could do. He tried dreadful hard to make a success of this place.

Minister:
[off-screen] Relatives and good friends of Cato Stone...

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
There. I think that proves that we can be as sunshiny as anyone. Clarence and the widow Collins lived happily ever after. And in desperation, the trustees finally converted their park into a track for dog racing. It proved more popular than a cemetery, and rather profitable, too. [walks over to a coffin] One of the consolations of being ill is the gifts one receives. One of my dear friends sent me this. Solid oak. Silver handles, too. Apparently, the donor wishes to remain anonymous. The card is unsigned. [holds up the card; it reads "Wear it in good health"] Very nice. But I better not overtax myself. Until our next visiting hours, then. [lies down and holds up a sign that says, "Do Not Disturb"]

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and television fans all over, uh, the living room floor. Tonight's drama is called "The Manacles" and features a pair of these attractive and useful charm bracelets. These, of course, are stage handcuffs especially made so that one can easily get out. Of course, as you may know, these little trinkets are not only used to cuff hands, they work very well on legs. Regardez. [handcuffs himself to a table; struggles] While I'm getting out of this, perhaps we better begin our play. Ladies and gentlemen, "The Manacled."

[first lines]

Train Station Announcer:
[off screen] Announcing the departure of northbound train 146 for Bakersfield, Tulare, Fresno, Merced, Martinez, Richmond, Berkley and Oakland. Now boarding on track number three.

Sgt. Rockwell:
You had it figured, huh?

Stephen Fontaine:
Well, not exactly. I didn't know who the lucky man would be. I thought whoever it was would be wearing a ready-made suit off of a basement rack, his heels would be run down. Be the kind of man who was living on the installment plan. Doesn't really own anything, just pieces of things. A piece of a cheap car, a piece of an ice box, a piece of a bedroom set. And all the stuff he has pieces of is already falling to pieces. But he'll keep paying on it and paying on it, month after month because that's the kind of man he is. Just a piece of a man.

[last lines]

Stephen Fontaine:
The bullet.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[lifts the table and removes the cuff from the bottom of the leg] At least I can get home now. I hope to have my hand free next time you see me. If I do, we should be able to present another story. Why not tune in and see? Good night.

Himself - Host:
[Hitchcock stands there holding an ax] This is an ax. I say this for the convenience of those of you whose television tubes may have burned out. I wish to reach the largest possible audience.

Himself - Host:
Did she seem a trifle overwrought to you? She did to me. But then I react in precisely the same way whenever I hear a child singing Davy Crockett. Being more civilized than Lizzie, I don't go about hitting tables. I hit the child instead, not with the ax of course but in a nice way.

Himself - Host:
I think everyone enjoys a nice murder... provided he is not the victim.

Himself - Host:
According to statistics, a murder will be committed during the next sixty seconds, as well as four armed robberies, thirty-three petty thefts, and a forgery. There will also be a television commercial. If you doubt me, watch.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[digging in a cemetery lot next to a sign that says "Come in and browse"] Oh, good evening, friends, Romans and countrymen. I've just unearthed some items which may be of vast archaeological importance. Two fig leaves. And a half-eaten apple. Tonight's play is not about fig leaves, but it does have a scene in a garden. It is called "The Rose Garden." And it's concerned with two elderly sisters in a magnolia-scented house in Louisiana.

[first lines]

Cab Driver Barney:
You say you come all the way to New York to see Miss Julia on business? You sure you ain't got them mixed up? You didn't come to see Miss Cordelia?

Alexander Vinton:
No, who is Miss Cordelia?

Julia Pickering:
Sister, I just thought I wouldn't go for once. It's Mr. Vinton's last night.

Mrs. Cordelia Welles:
Nonsense. The choir's down to nothing these last few weeks. Reverend Samuels is counting on you. I'm sure Mr. Vinton doesn't consider himself more important than God.

Alexander Vinton:
Oh, no, not at all.

Mrs. Cordelia Welles:
No member of our family has been north for 100 years.

Alexander Vinton:
It's changed a good deal, I believe.

Mrs. Cordelia Welles:
You were looking for my husband's body, is that right?

Alexander Vinton:
Yes, I'm afraid I was.

Mrs. Cordelia Welles:
Perhaps you would like to dig a little deeper.

Alexander Vinton:
Oh, no. Thank you.

[last lines]

Julia Pickering:
You know, I've known all about this for two years. They'll probably send me to prison, too. Maybe I could write it there.

Alexander Vinton:
I'm sure they won't. But if they do, I shall insist they don't give you time off for good behavior.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
So much for the literary set. And now we must interrupt our program while we prepare the next play for production. I shall see you then. Good night.

Himself - Host:
[after sawing a lady in half] I can now report that the operation was a huge success. Our patient now has what she wanted, perfect measurements, 36 - 0 - 36.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening. I'm looking to see what lies ahead. The old Romans used to tell the future by cutting animals open and examining their entrails. Due to some objections by anti-vivisectionists, we have to omit the butchery. But through the wonders of modern science, we are not denied a glimpse into the future. Besides, it's much more tidy this way. This is an x-ray of a goat, an animal which the ancients found to be full of strange portents. Hm, it looks like rain. I can see this will also give one insight about the past. For example, I now know what happened to those car keys I lost last summer. As to the immediate future, either this x-ray plate wasn't properly developed, or else we are in for a very dismal time of it for the next minute.

[first lines]

Sadini:
Hey, wake up. This is no place to sleep. Come on, wake up. You'll freeze to death.

[last lines]

Hugo:
Smile, Irene! Smile! Smile!

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
I don't know quite how to put this. However, I must tell you the truth. The saw worked excellently, but the wand didn't. Hugo was terribly upset. And Irene was beside herself. As for the police, they misunderstood the whole thing and arrested Hugo for murder. There's not much more to say, but I shall say it after the following commercial break. [after commercial] The forgoing has made it obvious to me that we've had quite enough for one evening. We shall save the rest for next week when I shall reappear. Until then, good night.

Herbert J. Wiggam:
Shall we synchronize our watches, Gentlemen?

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening, television watchers. Tonight's masque is entitled, "The West Warlock Time Capsule": the tale of a timid taxidermist. This gives me the excuse to exhibit this prize of mine and to discuss taxidermy. I feel I know quite a bit about stuffed animals. After all, it takes one to know one. This, I shot myself. You see, deer poaching is one of my hobbies. It took only two shots. The first one hit a bearded old man wearing a ridiculous red suit and riding in a sleigh. I'm having him stuffed, too. It probably sounds silly to you, but I'm sentimental that way. But enough of this. Here, in a moment, is "The West Warlock Time Capsule."

[first lines]

Customer:
Well, I know Harry's gonna like it, George. And when some of his friends gets a look at this, I bet you get their business, too. If they ever hunt up this way.

[last lines]

Mayor:
Well, George, it certainly ought to put West Warlock in the national limelight when they look inside Napoleon in the year 2057. What do you think?

George Tiffany:
Well, yes, I--I expect it it'll do that, all right.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
Honesty demands that I reveal that all did not go as Mr. Tiffany had planned. The weight of Waldren's pudgy body proved too much for Napoleon and within a few months the time capsule was opened by a caesarian section. Waldren, of course, was quite dead. And Napoleon hasn't been the same since. As for Mr. Tiffany, the jury proved quite lenient. Next time we plan a return trip to your living rooms. I hope you will join us then. Good night.

Alfred Hitchcock:
Good evening. I have a request for those of you who are not watching television: Please turn on your set. I'm sure I look much worse in the flamboyant Technicolor of your imagination than I do in the austere black and white of television.

Frank Bramwell:
[threatening Miss Laughton with a knife] Do you dig up that money right now, or do I use this on you?

Monica Laughton:
I haven't quite decided.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[Hitchcock looks down as steam rises] "Double, double, toil and trouble. Fire burn and cauldron bubble."

[the camera pulls back to reveal he's heating a baby bottle]

Alfred Hitchcock:
I don't know why people do this.

[he pours a few drops on his wrist]

Alfred Hitchcock:
It's not at all good for the cuffs. Takes the starch out of them. I wonder if it does that to babies? Of course, that must be the idea. As you shall soon see, tonight's play bears a relation to the foregoing, however slight. It is a tragical, comical, historical, pastoral, musical mystery entitled "Toby." "Toby" takes place in New York in 1910. And on your television screen in just a moment.

[first lines]

Mrs. Foster:
So, well, then he says he wants new dishes in the cupboards. "New dishes," I says. "Mr. Birch, look, I don't put new dishes in my furnished flats." But no, he insists, "She's got to have new dishes when she moves in."

[last lines]

Albert Birch:
Toby. Edwina.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
"When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning or in rain? When the hurly-burly's done, when the battle's lost and won? Well, that will be ere the set of sun." Well, in other words, next week. Good night, coz.

Betty:
When I met you, you were clean. Now... now you're dirty.

Manny Coe:
I don't have to take that kind of junk.

Betty:
Where are you going, to your dear Mr. Williams?

Manny Coe:
What have you got against Mr. Williams?

Betty:
I hate him!

Manny Coe:
Mr. Williams has everything I want. He can help me get things. He likes me.

Betty:
Sure he likes you, as long as you're useful with a trigger and you smile real pretty.

Manny Coe:
You're jealous of Mr. Williams!

Betty:
You quit Mr. Williams, or we're finished.

Turk:
You know, when you first came into this neighborhood, I was top boy with Mr. Williams. I was 24. How old are you? How did you ease me out?

Manny Coe:
Charm, man. Charm.

Vincent Williams:
I asked you here tonight to talk about you, Manny. You please me very much. And when one of my boys pleases me, he's always rewarded.

Vincent Williams:
It's a pity there are so many strange people in the world. I really don't understand them.

Manny Coe:
There's nothing wrong with Betty.

Vincent Williams:
Didn't you know? I'm afraid Betty doesn't like me. She even says I'm a crook. There's a rumor she's starting a purity campaign against our kind of people.

Vincent Williams:
People with rash ideas must be put away for their own good.

Manny Coe:
I don't get it.

Vincent Williams:
Really, Manny. Come now, you're not that na?ve.

Manny Coe:
But she loves me, Mr. Williams.

Vincent Williams:
That's the beauty of it. To triumph over that little impediment of love. And after it's done, Manny, think of the elation. Free from emotional annoyances.

Vincent Williams:
I'm afraid your Betty is the kind of woman who would wait 20 years for you to get out of prison, moral and repentant.

Manny Coe:
I just can't believe she'd tell on me.

Vincent Williams:
I assure you, she did. Always beware the woman who loves you. Most often, they want to run your life. And I think that if anyone was to run your life, I'd be better qualified.

Vincent Williams:
Yes, there's the technical difficulty. This is no ordinary job. It has to be done expertly. It's some time since I was a technician, but the talent hasn't left me. Let's see. I have it. New Year's Eve is just a few days off.

Manny Coe:
New Year's Eve?

Vincent Williams:
The noise, the confusion, the gaiety at the end of an old year and the start of a new. The end of an old life, and the start of a new one. [He lies down on the sofa] Your new life. Until the new year. Good-bye, Manny. [He holds out his hand. Manny shakes his hand briefly, but Vincent continues to hold Manny's hand until Manny pulls away]

Vincent Williams:
A very impressive funeral. I don't quite know why, but I always feel more alive when someone else has died.

Manny Coe:
I know what you mean.

Vincent Williams:
Of course you do, Manny. You've proven it to me, time and again. But this last job - Betty - ah, that was a real masterpiece. You rose decidedly in my estimation. Getting her to run in front of a car. Very clever. No bullet wounds, no suspicion. Completely clean. Commendable.

Manny Coe:
Thank you, Mr. Williams.

Vincent Williams:
From now on, it might be "Vincent." Don't you think?

Manny Coe:
Yeah. Vincent!

Vincent Williams:
[Vincent lifts his glass] To Manny Coe, new assistant in Vincent Williams Enterprises.

Manny Coe:
I'll drink to that. To the future, Vincent. To the future.

Vincent Williams:
Hello, Georgie.

Georgie:
Hello, Mr. Williams.

Vincent Williams:
Having a good time?

Georgie:
Swell. Thanks for inviting me. I didn't have anything decent to wear...

Vincent Williams:
Well, we'll have to see to it that you get some new clothes. Won't we?

Georgie:
Yes, Mr. Williams. Boy, it's sure funny, isn't it? If I had clothes and dough and a car like Mr. Coe, I'd be enjoying myself, having a swell time.

Vincent Williams:
[Vincent looks over to the bar, where he sees Manny. Manny is talking with a woman, who has her arms around him] You're a very observant boy, Georgie. By the way, I thought you handled that camera store job very intelligently.

Georgie:
Yes, Mr. Williams.

Vincent Williams:
[Vincent puts his hand on Georgie's shoulder] I think a gray herringbone tweed would look very nice on you. [Vincent walks away. Georgie smiles triumphantly]

Vincent Williams:
What's the matter, Manny?

Manny Coe:
Nothing, Vincent.

Vincent Williams:
Why are you leaving?

Manny Coe:
[Surprised] What?

Vincent Williams:
[Vincent takes him by the arm and leads him toward the door] Oh, Manny. I'm sorry the Johnson job didn't turn out to be the success we anticipated.

Manny Coe:
I can't understand what happened. I planned every detail. I thought I hadn't overlooked anything.

Vincent Williams:
Perhaps you need a vacation.

Manny Coe:
Oh no. No, I'm sure I'll be all right by tomorrow night.

Vincent Williams:
Get a good night's sleep.

Manny Coe:
Thank you, Vincent. Good night. [He walks toward the door, where he sees Georgie]

Georgie:
Leaving, Mr. Coe? [Georgie grins]

Manny Coe:
[Looking disgusted] Yeah.

Manny Coe:
I've got to be up early tomorrow morning. It's a conference with Mr. Williams. You know how it is.

Georgie:
[Georgie points a gun at Manny] Hello, Manny. Mr. Williams sent me.

[introduction]

Alfred Hitchcock:
[lying on a shelf with a tea set] Oh, good evening. I'm so glad you found me. As you can see, our, uh, new quarters are rather modest, but we like the location. And thought the change might do us good, also. And now, if you don't mind, I would like to indulge in an old American custom. No matter how busy they are or what the surroundings may be, Americans never omit this quaint ritual. If you don't care to join me, I think you'll find our play is about to begin on one of the lower shelves.

[first lines]

Mr. Princey:
Be quiet. They'd send her to an institution or they'd hang her. We should have to move away from here. It would be impossible.

[last lines]

Mr. Princey:
Well, I-- I believe that should cover everything. I hope you let this be an example to you, my boy. It's a rare problem that won't yield to a little thought and patience. But we must be very careful never to leave any loose ends dangling. You see, that's the thing. A little tea, Mother, please.

[afterword]

Alfred Hitchcock:
I presume that story was intended to illustrate that blood is thicker than water. I always find it heartwarming to see a family standing shoulder to shoulder in the face of adversity. Unfortunately, the authorities were not thrilled by this sight, and were seen tossing about such phrases as, "obstructing justice," "accessory after the fact," "murder in the first degree." Very nasty. The Princeys received substantial sentences. You see, unfortunately, Captain Smollet didn't play the game. When the police arrived he insisted on his innocence, thus confusing poor Millicent to such an extent that she re-enacted the crime with her father as the victim. Broke the croquet mallet, too. I believe I'll have another.

[pours from the teapot, then picks up the milk pitcher]

Alfred Hitchcock:
There's no more vermouth. Oh, well. Fortunately, I still have plenty of olives.

[drinks]

Alfred Hitchcock:
That was exceedingly dry. Next week, we shall be back at the same old stand. Please drop in again. Good night.

Himself - Host:
Good evening, fellow necromaniacs. I'm glad so many of you could come. I should explain that the word has nothing to do with necking. I'm awfully sorry. I haven't time to explain it now. You'll just have to look it up in the dictionary.