Micro-Phonies

[making a mock broadcast]

Moe:
Use Gritto, radio friends, the soap that gives your hands that dishpan look. How will the old man know you've been working... if your hands -don't- have that dishpan look, hmm?

[chuckles]

Moe:
Put a box of Gritto in a glass of water, then listen to it fizz...

[Larry and Curly honk a large horn. Moe is irked]

Moe:
Dopes. Remember, Gritto spelled sideways, is 'ot-tri-gruh-guh-guhhh'.

Italian singer:
Oh, cherries, huh?

[while smashing a handful of cherries in the party guest's face]

Italian singer:
See how you like them, wise guy! See how you like them!

Moe:
[in the studio room, at the microphone] Oh, a micro-phoney.

Curly:
[about Moe] And a phoney at the mic!

Moe:
Quiet, you numbskulls, I'm broadcasting.

Mrs. Bixby:
My dear, would you care to go to the powder room?

Moe:
Oh, no, no, she always looks like that.

Moe:
The senorita's lost her voice.

Mrs. Bixby:
What is it, laryngitis?

Moe:
No, fallen arches.