The Era -- Day By Day

[LizzieMaine]

("I still ain't sueh'r'v it," sighs Alice, gazing at the voter-registration card lying before her on the kitchen table. "What'f I get arrested? Y't'ink t'eyd sen' me back t'stir?" "Neh," reassures Krause, bent over the sink as he replaces a washer in the cold-water tap. "Lemme do it, Pap," requests Willie. "Lemme do it!" Krause nods, and pulls over a chair, allowing the boy to apply the pipe wrench to the packing nut." "Caeh'f'l a' ya awrm," calls Alice, without turning around. "T'em bruises ain' heal't yet." "I'm awright," insists Willie. "It ain' nut'n." Alice sighs, and returns to her thoughts, just as there's a rapping at the window. She jumps up, and snaps the latch, swinging the window upward. A scruffy-faced youth kneeling on the sidewalk to gaze down into the basement apartment delivers a message. "Gawtta cawl f'yeh at Schreibstein's!" Alice inhales sharply, scrambles in her overall pocket for a quarter and pushes it thru the window to the youth. "Whazzat?" queries Krause. "Nut'n," shouts Alice as she drags on her jacket and races for the door....)

Soviet Premier Joseph Stalin is expected to urge upon British Prime Minister WInston Churchill the idea that the Big Three Allied powers maintain their wartime military establishments during the postwar era on a sufficient scale to deal with any aggression or threat of aggression. Speaking in Moscow at a luncheon in Churchill's honor, the Soviet leader urged that the peace-loving nations of the world "never again be caught unawares and unprepared as they were at the outbreak of the present war." With Churchill, dressed in the uniform of a British Army colonel, seated at his side, Stalin paid warm tribute to the British and American contributions to the common Allied war effort, while Churchill, for his part, rose to praise the Red Army for "tearing the guts out of the German Wehrmacht."

Governor Thomas E. Dewey today began work on a new series of campaign speeches to be delivered as he prepares for a tour of the Midwestern states, where he is expected to make his case to the nation's farmers and industrial workers. The Republican presidential nominee will make his first speech on farm issues in St. Louis on Monday.

(An ammonia tank blew up. Get over yourselves.)

("Boy, thet tharr's no bettur'n Co-Coluh," sneers the Corporal as Joe punches a hole in an olive-drab can of GI beer. "Yo' evuh had real down-home co'n whisky?" Joe snickers as he sips. "Lemme tell yeh," he laughs, "about me faw'tehr 'n lawr...")

The body of Wendell Willkie arrived today in his hometown of Rushville, Indiana, for burial in that quiet rural community where he was born. The mortal remains of the 1940 Republican Presidential nominee were carried home by special train following funeral services at the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church in Manhattan, where 2500 persons inside the church and more than 35,000 outside paid tribute to the man who, in a time of crisis for his country, rose to become, without the benefit of public office, the political conscience of America and the world.

(Every fall I have to decide whether "Pug Manders" or "Bruiser Kinard" is the greatest football name ever.)

(Ah, Bill Biff vomiting. We're off to a great start with this one.)

(Oh, Josephine, you and your rhetorical questions.)

(As any reader of Wodehouse knows, you can never get rid of Jeeves.)

(At least she didn't register to vote.)

(America's Number One Hero Dog hasn't yet realized he couldn't care less about the colt.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Yes, people really do use lorgnettes, if they're Lady Astor.

Another hokey count? At least he's not guilty of bigamy, yet.

Hey kid, quit whining. My senior year of high school I worked a full-time job. Uphill. IN THE SNOW.

At least until that dopey reporter showed up.

"She isn't drugged, it's sugar shock!"

"AT LAST! THE HOUSE TO MYSELF!"

Airport's that way.

Aim high, kids.

Come now, you've been around this bunch long enough to know how it goes.

Nice by-line.

 

[Fading Fast]

"Whazzat?" queries Krause.

He must have been exhausted from that speech; it was a long one for him.

*******************************************************************************

Every fall I have to decide whether "Pug Manders" or "Bruiser Kinard" is the greatest football name ever.

Can we add Bronko Nagurski to the list?

*******************************************************************************

Ah, Bill Biff vomiting. We're off to a great start with this one.

I'll still take it over Señora De Leon and the stupid plastic-surgery storyline.

*******************************************************************************

Another hokey count? At least he's not guilty of bigamy, yet.

I thought we just shot spies back then. Oh, and while not a bigamist, he'll soon be having sex with multiple partners, but they won't be his wife...or a woman.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Awright," declares Alice, her voice edged in granite. "I hoid fr'm Moskowtiz t'ot'eh night. He seen'em kids t'at beat up Willie. He gimme a poifeck d'scription. I got it wrote down'eeh onnis papeh." "Hmm," hmms Uncle Frank, putting on his glasses to examine the sheet. "Says heeere, 'Westaaarn Electric Coompany Kaaaarney Waaarks Prooduction Ordarr..." "Gimme t'at," snaps Alice, snatching back the paper. "T'at'sa confidential wawr pr'duction docyehm'nt.' She shoves the paper down her front overall pocket, and fishes a torn-off piece of butcher paper out of her back pocket. "T'is is it," she contines. "Look'eeh." "Hm," hms Uncle Frank as he reviews the pencil scrawl. "This could be a hoondred diffr'nt kids," he shrugs. "Neveh mine'at," frowns Alice. "T'eh was no school t'day, but t'marrah mawrnin' I want Danny an' Jimmy oveh by Moskowitz's. An' when'eese kids..." "Oi can't give ye Jimmy," exhales Uncle Frank. "Nora's got soom jaaahb she wants'im t'do t'marra marrnin'. She was taaaahlkin' aboot it at soopar t'night. She won' tell me what it is, but..." "We had a deal, Frank," growls Alice. "How many'a t'em cigawrs y'got left?" "Well, uh..." stammers Uncle Frank, his fingers twiddling nervously in mid-air. "I wawn' bot' t'em boys t'marrah mawrnin'," commands Alice, her fists on her hips, "awr y'gonna be suckin' Tootsie Rolls t'illey putcha inna groun'." "Oi'll see," sighs Uncle Frank from behind closed eyes, "what Oi c'n' do...")

A new high in Anglo-Soviet relations was reported from Moscow, as Marshal Joseph Stalin made an unprecedented appearance at a British Embassy dinner attended by high-ranking Russian, British, and American officials. The Soviet Premier for the first time accepted an invitation to dine at a foreign embassy, and in his remarks offered particular praise for the American war effort. While, noted Marshal Stalin, the Soviet Union and Great Britain have both played great roles in the victories over Germany, "things might have been different without the aid of the United States."

The chairman of the Republican National Committee today predicted that Pennsylvania will fall into the Dewey column in next month's election. Chairman Herbert Brownell Jr. offered that prediction as he arrived today at LaGuardia Field after a conference in Pittsburgh with Dewey campaign workers and local Republican candidates. "It looks as if Allegheny County will deliver the strongest Republican vote since 1920," he projected, adding that he has discussed the election with Governor Edward Martin, who predicted a statewide swing to Dewey.

("Queens," frowns Sally, slurping the last of her Coke, "is a regl'eh terlet." "Oh yes," nods Ma, polishing the fountain spouts as Leonora counts nickels. "I mean," continues Sally. "Lookit t'place. Crooked cawps, gamblehs, awlat stuff. C'n you IMAGINE try'na bring up a kid decent inna place like t'at?" "Ootrageous," agrees Ma. "Weeh shawrt," says Leonora. "T'ree nick'ls missin'." She glances at the locked backroom door. "Waw'mee check?" she offers. "Nevvvvvar ye moind, darrlin," hastens Ma, scooping the nickels into a bag. "Whoy don'chee go ye ovarr t'th' rack tharr, 'n read a fonnybook." Leonora frowns, and slides off her stool. "T'ree nickl's!" she fumes. as her mother gazes wonderingly. "Sometimes," Sally sighs, "it scaehs me how smawrt t'at kid is." "Yee doon't knooow th' halfoovit," exhales Ma....)

("A deep throated newcomer of the menace type." Settle down, Janie.)

(Well, condescending fathead though he may be, the old boy's not wrong.)

The Daily News announced today that it has discontinued publication of its "Presidential Battle Page" following the receipt of two complaints. The "Battle Page" had been running in the Manhattan morning tabloid for the past seventeen days, using unedited material furnished by both the Republican and Democratic National Committees, but a News spokesman said today that the feature has been terminated after complaints were heard from "a Republican," and from "a member of the CIO Political Action Committee." Democratic National Committee Chairman Robert E. Hannegan immediately denounced the cancellation, asserting that the real reason the page was dropped was because of a cartoon furnished by the DNC depicting Colonel Robert R. McCormick, publisher of the Chicago Tribune, and cousin of Daily News publisher Capt. Joseph M. Patterson, as a member of a "cellar gang" backing Governor Dewey. Hannegan also accused the News of suppressing the upcoming publication of a column discussing Senator Claude Pepper's (D-Fla.) charge that John Foster Dulles is attempting to blackmail the public into supporting Dewey on the basis of a threat to sabotage the postwar peace. Hannegan further offered to provide an indemnity bond protecting the News from libel charges if that column is published.

(I still think "Brooklyn Tigers" is a corny name for a football team, but I would imagine that seen in their full color, those uniforms are spectacular.)

(A haunted potato farm? At least it's something new.)

(They cant help but know, you run around the house at top speed all hours of the night. Maybe lay off the coffee.)

(Yeh, don't mess with Jeeves, his cousin works for Batman.)

(NOTHING GETS BY OUR SCARLET!)

(Won't it be funny when the Colt she won turns out to be a .25 automatic.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News.

Um.

In all honestly, though, canned releases from party committees and paid operatives are hardly substantive discussion of the issues.

"And so you see," elaborates Mr. Gray, "NO ONE is truly self-made. Oh, wait a minute..."

Just be sure they count the extra five points for that come discharge time.

Wait, Tilda's in love with Gus Edson?

"Yeh yeh, Herbie, that's swell. Hey, you got half a buck, long as we're in here I wanna get down a bet."

Yeah, well, you better let somebody else take the pictures.

Jeez, kid, Pat never paid this much attention to you.

What, you don't know how to tan a hide? WITH THIS KID AROUND?

This story is taking a very interesting turn.

 

[Fading Fast]

"To Have and Have Not" and "Laura," not a bad week for releases.

And as you noted, Lizzie, Ms. Corby seems smitten with Ms. Bacall:

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Hi Unc'a Jimmy," calls young Willie as he and Krause walk along 18th Avenue toward school. A man leaning against the front window of Schreibstein's, shrouded in a heavy raincoat with a hat pulled down over his forehead lowers his newspaper and mumbles something imperceptible. "Heh," hehs Krause, and Willie replies "heh." Under a lowering sky they walk past Schank's Shoe Store, Mo-Ray Smart Frocks, Moskowitz's Deli, B&B Cut Rate Home Furniture, Conti's Italian-American Grocery , and the Mapleton Public Market. "Hiya, Unc'a Danny," calls Willie to a man wearing dark glasses lounging, hands in pockets, against the mailbox post at the corner of 18th and 62nd Street. "Oh yeh?" calls Danny, as Krause and Willie cross the street with a snicker. They continue on past the Imperial Meat Market, but stop short in front of the Mapleton Pharmacy as a group of roisterous youths exit, cackling loudly over their successful shoplifting expedition. "Looka T'IS!" grins the largest of the group. Willie freezes, his face blanching. "Hey bawldy," snorts the youth. "Z'is ya kid?" "Yeh," replies Krause, his face stony. Willie looks behind, but the heavy morning traffic prevents any signaling to either of the Leary brothers. Krause locks eyes with the youth, and the other boys cease their jabbering as their leader glares back...)

Guns blazed in Flatbush early this morning as an off-duty policeman in civilian clothes routed two bandits who had just grabbed $100 from the till of a Beverly Road tavern. Patrolman John Herrity of the Gates Avenue station was a patron at the McDade Bar & Grill, 3011 Beverly Road, when the two robbers entered the place with guns drawn. One forced the bartender to place his hands down on the bar while he rifled the till, as the other forced the customers into a back room. The patrolman, while onstensibly complying with that demand, slipped his hand into his pocket, drew his revolver, and fired at the gunman. The bandits returned fire and fled onto Nostrand Avenue, exchanging shots with the pursuing police officer before leaping into an automobile and racing away. Herrity was not certain if he had hit either of the robbers, and none of the other patrons were injured.

("Feh," fehs Sally, sniffing at the cream as she leans into the bathroom mirror and rubs it around her eyes. "Feh," agrees Leonora, trying to coax Stella the Cat out from under the bed...)

("Ahhhhhh," ahhs Ma, "noo THARR's a pitcharr show! 'Soona th' Shiek!'" "Hmph," hmphs Uncle Frank. "Vaaalantino! Pink poodar poof!""R'membarr whin we went t'see that?" continues Ma. An' Sally an' Michael didn' waana goo, so we went boi aaarselves, aaan' we took advantage aaar th oppartunity to..." Uncle Frank leans back in his chair and blinks. "Whaar," he replies, "didjee say it's playin'...?")

(I had no idea Mr. Lichty ever worked for Frank and Anne Hummert.)

(Never mind this football junk. STAN MUSIAL VS THE BUSHWICKS!)

("SENORA DE LEON IS COMING BACK!")

(No, no, George, it's the hospital collection agency that won't stop with the threatening phone calls. Believe me, I know.)

(Twenty-one years? I can sympathize.)

(Not very experienced with this family stuff, are you pop?)

(AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE HERO DOG isn't really this naive.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Sally asked me to remind everyone that Vallee actually served IN UNIFORM.

Everybody's a comedian.

The Sarge is planning for a postwar career in diplomacy.

When Shaky talks I wonder if he has a vibrato?

No jury would convict.

"Strange bedfellows." "What?" "Nothing."

"I wanted a window seat."

Actually, he lives in a Quonset hut.

Kayo Mullins, Wrestling Promoter.

Ahhhh, but what about Burma?

 

[Fading Fast]

Sally asked me to remind everyone that Vallee actually served IN UNIFORM.

"But what did he carry a pair of in his footlocker all through the war?" - Alice

"Shut up." - Sally

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Soooooo, Mistarr Krause," ventures Ma, sliding two egg creams across the counter, "A little baaaard tells me ye had a bit of an -- ahhh -- eeencident yestarrday." "Neh," dismisses Krause, plunging a straw into his drink as Willie takes a deep pull on his own. "Is thaaat so?" squints Ma. "Th' baaaard toold me ye stood oopta thaaat booncha hooligans was baaatherin' William." "Yeh," grins Willie, as Krause shoots him a look. "Sooombaady toold me," continues Ma, rolling her eyes back as she recalls the highlights of Danny's account, "ye joost staaaaaared thim doon, an' they roon aaahf. Caaaarse, th' baaard gaaaht aaahl c'nfused an' said it was joosta booncha kids, boot you'n me, whoy, we knooow what really happend, isn't thaaat sooo?" Krause looks up quizzically, and returns to his straw. "Ahhh," nods Ma conspiratorially, "Oi getchee. Say noo maaar." There are several moments of synchronized slurping. "Boi th' way, Mistarr Krause," ventures Ma. "Ye may have haaard that th' fallow Oi had roonin' errands farr me here, Mistarr Gaffney, is noo laaanger in me employ. Oi'm lookin' farr a man c'n handle 'imself an' knoos how t'keep quoiet. Moight you be intarrested in..." "Neh," replies Krause, without looking up. "Ah," nods Ma. "Naaaht in froonta th' boy. Oi gotchee...")

("No han'cuffs ei'teh," snickers Sally. "Y'know," adds Alice. "T'at Joe E. Brown is sump'n. An ol' man like t'at, goin'arouna woil' doin' shows." "His kid got kilt, y'know," notes Sally. "Trainin' accident, I t'ink it was." "Yeh," nods Alice. "I remembeh t'at. Terrible." They ride on in silence for a time. "Sal," resumes Alice, "I'm gonna tellya sump'n an' I don' wan'cha t'laugh." "Yeh?" replies Sally, her curiosity roused. "Joe E. Brown, right?" continues Alice. "I useta kinda -- well, I useta kinda -- well, like you useta feel about Vallee, right?" Sally's eyes gape, and she is, for once in her life, left speechless. "Yeh," nods Alice. "I t'ought he was really t'stuff, y'know? Any time he was inna show, I'd go see it. Anytime he was in a moom'pitcheh, I'd go see it. An' I...hey! Whatcha laughin' about!" Sally can make no reply as she shakes with mirth, but mimes the image that has come to her mind. "I DID NAWT!" roars Alice, as heads turn in the car. "B'sides," she mutters, her face flushing a deep red, "innem days I was awrways weahrin' a one-piece!")

(KIDS TODAY)

(We could have had Litwhiler, you know. Would've come in handy AFTER RICKEY DUMPED MEDWICK.)

(Is there a basement lair? Please tell us there's a basement lair!)

(Wait, "eight more days?" Is Tuthill planning to retire again?)

("Wine??" snorts Uncle Frank. "Thaaar's noo mooney in THAT!")

("Will that be all, Ma'am? Got a good deal this week on cyanide!")

(AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE HERO DOG should seek help for his rejection complex.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"I mean," sighs Alice, "looka t'at jawr. Y'gotta admit he's a good lookin' felleh."

Coming Events Cast Their Shadows Before....

"Make him hand over his notebook before he goes, I bet it's juicy!"

Right on schedule.

Oh, I get it. This whole story has been a parable for the coming postwar peace.

I didn't know they allowed eyeliner in the service.

"Ooooh! Leaves! LET'S JUMP!"

"Just don't mess up the spread! I got a lot riding on this one!"

"I ALWAYS feel better -- with Drinkolla!"

Moon's draft notice?? Is that why they dropped his name from the title?

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

Hey Jimmy, take MY picture. THE STORIES I COULD TELL.

 

[Fading Fast]

Alice will blow a gasket if Krause starts working on the side for "that old lady."

And staying with Alice, Joe E. Brown, really Alice?

Maybe Krause makes more sense than we think.

 

[Fading Fast]

 

[Fading Fast]

Lizzie, I hope you are well, best, Fading Fast.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Massive internet outage today up here -- only just came back! Today's posts will follow a bit later tonight!

 

[LizzieMaine]

("She WHAT?" bellows Alice, leaping up from her barrel as Krause, stripped to a grimy undershirt, flings a shovelful of coal into the boiler. "She astcha t'go t' WOIK fawr'eh???" "Yeh," nods Krause, pausing to smudge the sweaty soot on his forehead into a broad smear with his forearm. "You KNOW, don'cha," scowls Alice, "what she wawntscheh t'DO." "Yeh," shrugs Krause, hefting his shovel and plunging it into the heap in the bin for another load. "An'nat don' BOT'EH yeh?" continues Alice. "Y'KNOW t'opehration she's runnin' oveh teh! Numbehs, slawt m'chines, bookmakin'! Y'KNOW t'Mayeh's crackin' down onnat stuff! Y'WANNA GO T'JAIL?" "Neh," replies Krause, with a casual shake of his head as he tosses another shovelful into the flames. "Izzat awl you got t'SAY??" demands Alice. "Yeh," nods Krause, pushing the furnace door closed with his shovel and passing his forearm over the top of his head, spreading the black smudge across the length of his scalp. "Lissen," Alice commands, pacing a tight circle. "I neveh met ANYBODY in me life as col' blooded azzat ol' lady. Frank Leary, y'can deal wit'tim, he's jus' a bootleggeh. Sawlt'a'ta oit', once ya get t'know 'im. Give ya t'shoit awf'is back f'ra good cigawr. But t' ol' lady -- I dunno what it was t'at made 'eh t'at way, an' I do'WANNA know, but I'm scaeiht t'deat' of 'eh, an' you should be too!" "Meh," sneezes Krause, blowing the coal dust out of his nose into a sooty handkerchief. "Awright," argues Alice, "I'll tell yeh'ra stawry, OK? When I got sen' up, five yeehs at t' Women's Penetent'chry, f'sump'n'at rat Mickey done, she comes t'me an' says 'don'cheh worry none, we'eh gonna do sump'n fawr yeh. An' y'know what she done?" Krause shrugs, stuffing the handkerchief into his back pocket. "She gimme five-yeehs subscription t't' Woman's Home Companion!" "Heh!" snorts Krause before thinking better of it. "An'na WOISE t'ing is," bellows Alice, "t'em lousy screws wouldn' lemme HAVE it. T'ey held 'm fawr me, an' when I gawt out t'ey give'm to me in a big bawx! " Krause sneezes to conceal his "heh." "T'at bawx right t'eh!" Alice continues, pointing to a carton sitting atop a trunk in a corner of the basement. "I'm still tryin' t'get cawt up on read'n'm!")

In Manhattan Superior Court yesterday, Tommy Manville filed suit to regain control of a $2,000,000 trust fund from his sister, Lorraine Manville Dresselyhurs, and revealed that he has prepared a will, drawn up on August 15th, leaving his entire $10,000,000 estate to three trust funds set up to "support and maintain capable young men and women who desire to study medicine." The Broadway playboy's will directs his executors to divide the estate into three equal parts to be administered by Columbia University, New York Medical College, and Cornell University. The much-married asbestos heir makes no provision in the new will for any of his various former wives.

("I dunno what t'make'v'it," sighs Sally, gazing at the flaking Kalsomine ceiling. "It's not so unusual," shrugs Dr. Levine, as her pencil skims across her notebook. "T'ree lettehs fr'm Joe in one day?" repeats Sally. "I come home ye'st'day an' fine t'ree lettehs inna bawx, an' ev'ry one'v'm says pretty much t'same t'ing. 'I am doin' fine, we do a lawta ridin' awn trucks, t'fellehs heeh eat a lotta chip beef an' hash an' stew, t'is cawpr'l I woik wit' is a swell guy an' we get along good.' Eve'na poissonal stuff he puts inneh is awla same. I don' like it, I t'ink sump'n's wrawng an'nee ain'tellin' me." "Military censorship is quite strict," reminds Dr. Levine. "T'is ain'nat," replies Sally. "I know when Joe ain' feelin' good. I know when sump'ns bawt'ehrin' 'im. T'at time we didn' heeh fr'm Solly Pincus f'mont's, Joe was like t'is, he didn' wawna tawk about it, so he jus' wen awn like nut'n was wrawng. An'nen we foun' out Solly got shot. An' I t'ink t'at's what's hap'nin'eeh, he got shot an'nee don' wanna tell me." "That's a mighty big conclusion to jump to," observes Dr. Levine. "Couldn't there be another explanation?" "Well," shrugs Sally, "maybe he f'gawt what he wrote t'fois'time, an'nen wrote anot'eh letteh'r'n f'gawt he wrote t'at one, an' sen' me a an'ot'eh one, an'ney awl come at oncet." "Perhaps," shrugs Dr. Levine. "Yeh," nods Sally, "I t'ink t'at's it. Y'know, Joe fell down'a staiehs inna subway one time an' hit 'is head. Maybe he's gett'nat amnesia y'awrways hearin'about." "How long ago," asks Dr. Levine, "did he hit his head?" "I dunno, 'bout two yeehs maybe," replies Sally. "But y'see t'at stuff inna papeh awla time. Happ'nin' right now in Dick Tracy." "Ah," sighs Dr. Levine. "Y'tink," ventures Sally, "t'ey letcha outa t'Awrmy f'r amnesia?")

(You know it's the first week after the end of baseball when chess news makes it to the front of the sports section.)

("More than my husband suspects!" You say that like you've said it before.)

(Hey, at least they didn't throw eggs.)

(Monster sale this week at Namm's!.)

("Business Man." That's one way to put it.)

("They've been following us for the last hundred miles." Wow, good mileage. Must be a Willys.)

(Yes indeed, Coming Events...)

(What's a gal gotta do to get some privacy?)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Ew.

Hey, look -- Myrna Loy! How'd you swing that, Mr. Hill?

"Has Snowflake drifted?" Been saving that for years, huh?

Well now, look who's back from his vacation. No complaints about the script now!

Citrus pulp? Really???

When I was about Kayo's age, I too jumped off a roof with an umbrella, and -- ah -- well...

Wait, they didn't make her change her name? Well, it'll be easy to fit on the marquee...

Some nicknames, you just never live them down...

Volcano gods? Somebody send for Chester Gump!

G'wan, kid. Read it.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

Season's Cheatings!

 

[Fading Fast]

Well now, look who's back from his vacation. No complaints about the script now!

"I went to a spa and had a wonderful and relaxing time. A bit more expensive than I'd have liked, but with my new contract, I thought I should treat myself."