Vinte Milhões de Namoradas

Pete: Well, I've put all the kiddies east of the Mississippi to bed. How's rehearsal?

Peggy Cornell: Oh awful. Some yokel stood outside the rehearsal hall making and stared at me until I nearly broke me up. What have you got a summons?

Pete: No, fan mail.

Peggy Cornell: Oh. Three of them. That's two more than last week! Your public are growing up and learning to write.

Pete: Listen to this: Dear Uncle Pete. I am well. How are you? I hear you on the radio every night. Great stuff for a he man poet... Have you heard my last poem, Peggy?

Peggy Cornell: I sure hope so.

Pete: Frankie Wallace was a pug. He laid his opponents out like a rug. Until one day... Wait a minute! You haven't heard the last of it.

Peggy Cornell: Well. You've got me cornered.

Pete: Frankie Wallace was a pug. He laid his opponents out like a rug...