The police chief of Sycamore Springs
sidles up to an open hamburger joint
at the town rail station:
Give me a cup of coffee and 2 aspirins.
The wondrous Nora Charles, in full up-
per East Side couture, approaches him:
Hello, Mr MacGregor. I'm so glad you're
here!
Always glad to see a member of the
Charles Family ...
There's a man here. I want you to
arrest him.
But what for?
Does it have to be for something?
Oh, ho, no! No, you just pick out
anybody at all, and I just put him
in jail for life.
But he's trying to leave town . . !
Look, Mrs Charles. I can't arrest
anybody unless they do something,
to get arrested! Get that? They
gotta do something!
I think you're being very tech-
nical, Mr MacGregor!
Nora Charles stalks off, stage right.
Make that 4 aspirins.
One resists raising hopes for any
resemblance between a Presidential
address on the greatest crisis to
affront a Christian nation since a
slave discovered the underground
railway, and a miracle of wartime
scripting from Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer,
but there we are. The Fates have
summoned our Buchanan, nay, our
Andrew Johnson, to guide us toward
the great panic they knew would
Richard Thorpe
director
Robert Riskin
Dwight Taylor
screenplay
The Thin Man Goes Home
MGM, 1945©
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