Fibber McGee and Molly - Molly Gets Flowers From A Man

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The Johnson Wax Program was Fibber McGee and Molly.

The makers of Johnson's Wax, Johnson's Car New, and Johnson's Self-Polishing Blowcode

present Fibber McGee and Molly, written by Don Quinn,

with music by the King's Men and Billy Mills Orchestra.

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Somebody is knocking up the door of 79 W. Puvista,

the home of Faber McGee and Molly.

Hey Molly. Hey, there's somebody at the door with a package. How do you know

it's somebody with a package? He knocked. If he had his hands free, he'd ring the bell.

He had his hands free to knock. He's got his hands free to ring the bell. Oh not

necessarily. You can knock with your feet or your knees, but did you ever try to

ring a doorbell? Oh, for goodness sake, I'll get it. Who is this to

residence of? Never end a sentence with a proposition. And if you must know this

is a house that Mr. and Mrs. McGee live in. What do you got, bud? Package for Mrs.

Fibba McGee. Sign here, please. Oh a package for me? Oh, who's it from? That lady will

forever remain a mystery with me. And so I am only an individual which has been

entrusted by the fossil delivery company to lay this precious boyden in your

pale white hands and get your mitts off that package, Doc. It's for their lady.

I'm her husband. Leave us not delven to the strange ways of women. Come red. Sign here,

please. I'll sign forth. There you are. Thanks madam. And if you'll take my advice,

you won't have her in Duffy, you'll keep a simple tongue in your face. Very strange

yourself, Mr. Was I consigned with a future in the profession of fossil delivery? I

would eagerly drink in your poils of wisdom. But then as much as so ever that I am

tomorrow morning being induced into the armed forces, you may button your kiss.

Fresh guy, if it wasn't that I didn't want to maim a future second lieutenant, I'd

apart at his nose with a knuckle. I wonder who this package is from. I don't

remember ordering anything. I don't want to find out if he'd open it up.

Happily days, flowers. Oh, and what a lovely bouquet. Oh, McGee, you sweet, thoughtful

man. Give mother a kiss. I can't. You can't? Why not? Well, it'd be under false

pretenses. I didn't send those flowers. You didn't? Well, who did? Well, I don't know.

Maybe they were delivered by mistake. I hope. Well, I'll see if there's a card in the

box. What's it say? It says, please think of me. Signed Ralph. Ralph? Who the

same hill is Ralph? Ralph. Ralph, now let me see. There was a Ralph onslaugher in my

geometry classroom. No, he has eight children and is married. Well, what Ralph is this?

I want to know. I'm not going to have every anonymous Ralph in the country sending my

wife flowers. Why, George? I'm going to. Well, hello there, Molly darling. And Fibrele.

Hello, Uncle Dennis. Hello, Uncle Dennis. And what might to be celebrating this fine day

with your handsome bunch of flowers and all? And McGee standing there with a silly expression

on his pulse. May them as loves cats forgive the loose use of the term. Well, I seem to

have received these flowers from an anonymous admirer. Yeah, well, he'll be anonymous

to like catch up with him. Then he can easily be identified by his broken neck. Well,

now isn't it a romantic thing. It reminds me of what happened to an old friend of mine

by the name of six Joseph O'Fegney, who was always trying to pick up a couple of bucks.

What did you say his name was? Six Joseph O'Fegney. Well, it seems like you, you, you,

you, your first name was six. It was that it seems they didn't know what to name him

when he was born. So they wrote several names on pieces of paper and they put them in

a hat. And his father, unfortunately, drew out the label. His real name is 678 Joseph

O'Fegney. His father being a small-headed man. Now look, Uncle Dennis, do you know anybody

by the name of Ralph who would be sending me flowers? Oh, Mark Ursula, anyone named

Ralph would, who knew you would be worth and descend you flowers because you're the

sweetest one. Ever since you made that trip back to Ireland and kissed the Balinese

stone, you spread it on with a trowel. Oh, now I'm like, you know, Barry Welley went back

to Ireland for his sister's wedding. Oh, I did that. I couldn't resist it after getting

a letter from Noreen that she was marrying an ostrich. She was marrying a what? An ostrich

fellow from Austria. Now you don't mean an ostrich, Uncle Dennis. Oh, I don't. I certainly

not. A guy from Austria is an Austin. Oh, now I'm again Austin is a little automobile.

I thought that was a banter. Oh, no, oh, oh, lad, I can collect you there. A banter

is a lad who drops chandeliers on people's heads in the theater. Huh? Did you see the

banter of the opera? I took care of that one, didn't I? All right, that was it. That

was a fellow at all. That's that banter. That is a banter of the opera. No, no, Uncle

Dennis. No, that's a banter, you mean? That is a spirit. Oh, sure. Oh, well, fancy that

now. My own little sister, Maryanna Ghost. I thought he was a little thin, but Mary

chanted. He rattled her to a grown in the night. It was a dirty trick. He played on the

girl, not telling her he was dead. Making her think he was a lad of spirit, but all the

time he was just the spirit of a lad. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,

did other alleged Irish expressors. Stage Irishman. All he needs is a clay pipe, a sham

rock in his hat band and two friends named Pat Mike. Never mind him, McGee. Look at these

beautiful flowers. Yeah. All right, they lovely. And to think of me having an unknown

admirer. Don't worry. He'll become known when I lay my hands on him. He'll become known

as rattling Ralph, the rat with the retractable ribs. My sweetheart, I do believe you're jealous.

Jealous, my clavicle. It's merely that I got no use for a hot house chasm over that,

hey, you know what I'm going to do? What? I'm going to call a private detective and have

these flowers traced. Hello, operator. Give me the J. Edgar Hooper detective agency. It's

across the street from that hot dog stand. Oh, no, no, no, the hot dog stand. H-O-T-D-O-G

is that you, Mert? Oh, dear. How's every little thing, Mert? What say, Mert? You did?

Oh, got more than he's definitely going to run again this year, huh? Is that official,

McGee? I think so. Well, I always said he'd run again, Mert. They got too much invested

in him now to let him quit now. Why, McGee, that's how it is. I don't ever forget the time

I saw him, Mert. It was the first time he'd won. Oh, what a hero. Stand in there with his

hair rippling in the breeze, eyes flashing, whinnying, like... Whinny, who are you talking

about? Whirl away. Mert says he's going to run again this year. What say, Mert? Oh, okay,

I'll call it her. Bye, George. I'm going to find out who this Ralph is.

I'm going to find out who this Ralph is. I'm going to find out who this Ralph is.

Give me one dozen roses with my heart in front of them.

Please, I wish you wouldn't sing that.

He was here I am.

Seeing my home being busted up.

My wife getting flowers from other guys.

Oh, I guess I'm just a failure.

Oh, don't talk like that, dearie.

Well, jeez, what is it?

Heavenly days, you make me sound like I've been hooping around town,

waving a pocket flask and dancing on table tops.

Oh, jeez.

I didn't ask this Ralph person to send me flowers.

Well, jeez, listen.

Something must have given the idea he could get away with it.

You know the old saying, never go around with a married woman

unless you can go five rounds with her husband.

Yes, but nobody's gone round with me, but you.

I'm very happy.

Can I help it if a perfect stranger sends me flowers?

Well, no, but my guy's the perfect one.

Oh, here's Alice Darling, McGee. Hello, Alice.

Hello, Mrs. McGee. Hello, FM.

Hello, A.D., and I don't mean antediluvian.

What's antediluvian?

I don't know. That's why I don't mean it.

Cheaper, get a load of the flowers.

Oh, you're lucky, Ducky, to have a man who loves you enough

after all these years to send you $15 worth of flowers.

Nobody doesn't.

Why, I do too.

Well, I mean, of course, that McGee didn't send these.

Well, I would if I'd have thought of it.

I got just because some home record with more money than sense comes.

Oh, you don't think it shows good sense

to send me flowers?

Why sure it does. I didn't mean that.

I mean, he's got no wife to send flowers to married women.

But who sent them to you, Mrs. McGee?

Ralph.

Ralph?

Ralph?

Yeah. They were sent as a dying request

from one of my wife's admirers, Alice.

What makes you think he's dying?

If I catch him, I'll guarantee it.

Do you mean you don't know who Ralph is?

Well, no. Do you?

Oh, I thought simply everybody knew about Ralph.

He's always sending flowers to somebody.

Oh, he is, is he?

Okay, Alice, give me the lowdown.

Who is Ralph and what part of town does he crawl around in?

When I get through with him, his own mother won't know it.

Oh, well, I guess I'd better not tell you.

And I hate to think of such pretty flowers causing any trouble.

I love flowers.

I even wrote a poem about flowers when I was in school.

Oh, did you, dear? How did it go?

Oh, just fine.

He means can you remember it?

Oh, of course.

I'm simply wild about flowers.

I think all blossoms are dandy.

But my favorite flowers for boys to bring me is candy.

See, I wish Ralph would send me some flowers sometimes.

Oh, this Ralph sends flowers to lots of women, does he?

That's disgusting.

Oh, McGee, now you're acting like a jealous schoolboy.

I'm never done such a thing.

I'm acting like any self-respecting married man

that his wife gets flowers from strangers.

Why, George, if they don't, hey, where are you going?

I'm going to put these flowers in the vase.

Have you seen the big blue in the Dancerra gave us three Christmases ago?

All that.

That cheap little hunk of brickabrack.

Listen, now, that's a very pretty vase, and I happen to know that Dancerra created a great deal for it.

Well, she took an awful rook, and then if she did, she'd best grade a glass I ever saw.

Oh, my gosh, you can't even use it to crack a walnut with it.

Well, to fall into a million pieces of it.

Never McGee, did you break that beautiful flower?

Hello, folks.

Hello, Mr. Wilcox.

Hi, Junior.

Well, Molly, you look like a June bride standing there with your arms full of flowers.

Which reminds me, I think I'll send my wife a bouquet.

Oh, that's a nice thought, Mr. Wilcox.

I'm sure she'll love it. I know I would.

What she's trying to say, Junior, is that I didn't send her those flowers.

Who did?

We don't know.

Cargis says, please think of me and we'll sign round.

Oh, round. Oh, him.

You know them?

You know who the...

Don Connick Wilcox, tell me who he is, and how big.

Well, let me tell you how I know him, pal.

Yeah.

You see, I have another friend who has an attractive wife, too.

Oh, thanks for the two.

And one day, while I was visiting them, you know, just sitting around the house talking.

How Johnson's wax is so wonderful, particularly in the wintertime.

Because with the changes in temperature and humidity,

the wax protection does so much to keep furniture and woodwork and floors and good shade.

That's what you're just sitting around talking about, man.

This casual conversation.

Yeah.

Small talks.

Yeah.

Triviality.

That's it.

You know, Molly, I've often seen those ads in the magazines where a lot of people are sitting around in evening clothes.

Talking about how Charlie is so much happier now that he started wearing neat, neck, snug, fast, jelly-cold shirts.

I never believed people did that.

But to think of spending an evening with Wilcox.

Oh, murder.

I think Mr. Wilcox could make Johnson's wax a very interesting subject.

Well, I can talk about other things.

You can?

More certainly.

I also discuss subjects like economics.

Oh, now I can prove how much money you can save over a period of years.

By using Johnson's wax on luggage.

Flapscapes, window sales, and enamel surfaces.

Because with that protection, they look well and last so much longer.

You see, McGee?

High-retract junior, you can change the subject.

Why, certainly.

You can go right from how Johnson's wax saves your furniture.

Boom.

Right into how Johnson's wax saves your woodwork.

Baby, what a conversation.

Yes, but how about this Ralph, Mr. Wilcox?

Ralph, Ralph, the guy that sent the married woman the flowers

while you were just sitting around fascinating everybody with your sparkling dialogue.

Oh, oh, yeah.

Well, there we were, just talking.

Yes, yes, we know about that.

And suddenly, the bell rings.

Door fire, school, Swiss, alarm clock, church, or telephone.

Door.

Oh.

Well, it was a messenger with flowers.

Beautiful, dude.

Had a card in them from Ralph.

We'll get to it, Wilcox.

Get to it. Who is Ralph?

I've been trying to tell you, pal.

He's the guy who keeps sending married women flowers.

I'll run over and ask these friends of mine if they ever found out who it was.

I'll call you back.

Thank you.

I ain't wonder if I would be unfair to Mr. Wilcox.

If I sometimes suspected he only comes in here to deliver a message about that.

Oh, I'm just being silly.

Yeah, that's ridiculous.

He said, doggun at Molly, I wish you'd stop bearing your face in those flowers.

You're enjoying them all together too much.

Now, look, sweetheart.

The flowers don't know who sent them.

When I start bearing my face in Ralph's manly shoulder, you'll have something to do.

Ah, don't talk like that.

And if I ever lay my hands on that home wrecking hyena, he won't have any shoulders.

I'll tear them off so fast you'll have to go through life shrugging his hips.

Well, I'm sure it won't matter to me, dear.

He has a nice taste in flowers, and that's all I know about him.

Now, I've got to get these in some water, too, before they will.

Ah, there goes a good kid.

She don't get all fluttery and giddy just because some patty sends her a couple of petunias.

My shucks are one.

Oh, boy.

I hope that's Ralph in person.

I'll hide the body under the cold pile.

He'll scream.

I hope he's a small man.

We haven't got much cold.

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Come in.

Hi, mister.

Oh, oh, hi, little girl.

Mmm, gee, what smells so good in here?

Smells like flowers.

Yeah, probably my after shaving lotion says.

Mmm, must be pretty strong stuff, mister.

You haven't shaved since yesterday, have you?

I have, too.

My beard grows fast.

I have to shave twice a day, unusually.

Yeah.

What do you shave the second time, the cap?

Now, don't you get impudence, sis?

You know if I'd talk to my elders like that when I was your age,

they'd have given me to the Indians.

What Indians?

What do you mean what Indians?

Indians, they were all around us where we lived.

Oh.

Out there in Arizona.

I was practically brought up as a sue Indian.

Mmm.

For years, my legs were all out of shape

from riding horses' bareback.

Giannis, I always thought you were not neat.

Oh.

Man, that's because I gripped those ponies so hard with my knees.

The minute I got off a horse, my knees had springed together.

Pee?

I had so much strength in my legs I could crack coconuts with my knees.

Oh.

Yes, sir, I was quite a lad, sis.

I had a little bow and arrow, and by the time I was seven,

I could keep nine arrows in the air at one time.

Hey, honest?

Yep.

What'd you do, tie a string around them and toss them off, huh?

Okay, okay, scoff if you want to.

But those days of the Old West won't come again, sis.

No.

You'll be sorry you didn't listen to one who was there.

You know what happened when I was nine years old?

Sure.

When I was nine years old, my papi gave me a handful of bullets.

A rifle, a skinny knife, three pounds of flour, a side of bacon.

Which side?

Right side.

That's all that was left.

You gave me a pony.

Then he slaps me on the shoulder and says, okay, son.

Get out into the world.

You're getting to be a burden on my family.

You are nine years old, I am.

Not quite nine, eight years and ten months, be exact.

So I leaps on to my pony and I'm sat there to leave me.

Why?

Because I wanted to ride away into the sunset.

Nothing dramatic about leaving home at high noon.

I'm not going to leave you.

I'm going to leave you.

I'm going to leave you.

I'm going to leave you.

Nothing dramatic about leaving home at high noon.

And there we went, a boy in his pony.

Facing every kind of danger with high hopes and a stout heart.

Gee.

Where'd you go, mister?

Where'd you?

Search me, sis.

Nobody ever saw a hide in her hair of us again.

So now, if you'll excuse me, sis.

Did a man come here with some flowers?

Yes, he did.

Where they from?

Aren't you being just a trifle nosy, sis?

Sure.

Thanks. They were from a guy named Ralph.

Oh, boy.

I went in it.

Oh, I went in it.

Oh, I went in it.

Hey, hey.

What's your idea?

How'd you win in it?

Well, he chips nice on a man bringing the package.

And I bet he'll win in it.

Ralph was sent and Mrs. McGee sent five.

Hey, Willie.

I win.

You all mean it.

Oh, Willie, it was Ralph.

Hey, wait a minute.

What the?

Don't go on it.

Does everybody know Ralph?

But me?

The Kingsman saying, don't touch it.

When I was just a tiny taut down in Tennessee.

I kept on manning on the spot looking after me.

I'd fool with this and fool with that mess around the box.

And when I grabbed my package hat.

Manning deer with shouting, don't touch it.

I better leave it alone.

Don't touch it.

Hey, hey.

Do you'll catch it?

When happy gets home.

If you don't mind what I say.

When happy Mr. Sunday happy down in Tennessee.

He fuss and fuss and cuss and cuss and start to look for me.

Then pretty soon I'd have a date in the old wood shed.

And with three more side meditate on what my mammy said.

Don't touch it.

I can't you leave it alone.

Don't touch it.

Hey, hey.

You'll catch it.

And sure as you're born.

If you don't mind what I say.

One day I went with that happy downtown to buy a shoe.

He said it was good for any man to have a sip of brew.

But when he went to take a nap we heard an awful roar.

And we turned around and there was mammy shouting through the door.

Don't touch it.

I can't you leave it alone.

Don't touch it.

Hey, hey.

You'll catch it.

When happy gets home.

As sure as you're born.

If you don't mind what I say.

How happy were those childhood days down in Tennessee.

Well dear old fashioned country ways will appeal to me.

I'd badly be a boy again to mess around about.

I step on Pappy's derby just to hear my mammy shout.

Don't touch it.

I'd better leave it alone.

Don't touch it.

Hey, hey.

You'll catch it.

When happy gets home.

If you don't mind what I say.

Oh look McGee these flowers fill three big basins.

Don't they look beautiful.

I think they're gaudy and overdone.

An incredible taste.

I love to see you jealous, McGee.

I'm not jealous.

I'm merely a...

Hey.

What'd you do to your hair?

Oh, I just tried to call me it a different way.

You like it?

Yes, I think.

Hey.

Are you wearing your new dress?

What?

Oh, yes.

I just thought I'd slip it on to see how it went with the new hairdo.

Oh, Molly, I don't like this.

My gosh, some stranger sends you a handful of silly asters

and you go all coquetties.

Picture hair all different, wear a new clothes.

Now, don't be silly.

Though I will admit it's stimulating gets us a gorgeous bouquet.

Same again the next time we're in Kramer's drugstore,

remind me to try that new shade of lipstick.

I think they call it person to person.

That's disgusting.

Person to person of all.

Oh, come in.

Oh, hello, Dr. Gamble.

Hello, Molly.

Hello, McGee.

What do you want, Errol Smith?

Himself is in a bad mood today, doctor.

If I ever come over here and find him in a good mood,

I'll bake you a cake.

What's gripping you, my boy?

Draft board reclassifier LH2?

What's LH?

Level-headed.

Flat on top.

Never mind the wise crack, doctor.

When a guy's home is being broken up,

a guy don't feel like swapping better with guys.

Oh, now McGee, your foolish boy.

He's foolish all right, but he's no boy.

Stop running your hands through your hair, beanbag.

Get your chin off your solar plexus

and tell the old family physician your troubles.

It's Ralph.

Ralph, who?

We don't know.

Fine.

What has Ralph been doing?

Writing Limerick's on your sidewalk?

He's been sending my wife flowers.

That's what he's been doing.

And if I ever lay my dukes on him...

Oh, that, Ralph.

What's that, you mean you know who it is?

You, too, does everybody know this guy but me?

And me?

You mean you don't know who Ralph is?

I know who he will be.

He'll be the guy that find potent down the river

with every bone in his body broken by a blunt instrument

named Frida McGee.

But, doctor, tell us now, who is he?

What time is it?

Well, why?

I can answer you a question in two minutes.

Two minutes, Patown.

You'll answer it right now.

Or by George, I'll pin your ears to far back.

You'll have to add three feet to your stethoscope.

Don't get ambitious, my flabby little friend.

If I didn't know you were upset about this thing,

I'd hang a shanty on your eye that would solve the housing problem

for the next hundred years.

Oh, is that so?

Yes.

Why are you overbearing, body-wrecking, supercharging,

pulse-paying?

What time is it?

What time is it?

Four, fourteen.

Well, turn on the radio.

What for?

Turn it on.

Oh, okay.

Turn on the radio.

All right, dearie.

I don't know what you think you're going to do.

I mean, why?

McGee, listen.

Our great pleasure to announce that the lucky winner today

is Mrs. Thibba McGee of 79 with full vista.

As you know, every Tuesday,

some lucky lady receives a gorgeous bouquet of blossoms

from Ralph the friendly bluerist.

Remember, friends, when you think of flowers, think of Ralph.

And now we present things to our trainer transcribe.

Catch on.

Oh, this is ridiculous.

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