The Case of Spring Fever

I've had a toothpaste and Sal-Happarica present Mr. District Attorney, Champion of the people, Defender of truth, Guardian of our fundamental rights to life, Liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Mr. District Attorney is brought to you by I've had a toothpaste and Sal-Happarica.

I've had a for the smile of beauty, Sal-Happarica for the smile of health. I've had a Sal-Happarica. Two tragedies in some criminal histories, ladies and gentlemen, is the exaggerated role minor circumstances play in the making of a transgressor.

In tonight's unusual case of spring fever, for example, it is apparent that insignificant factors, a mood, a normal impatient yearning for success, and the spring night all combine to help make a criminal. We begin at dusk in a large park here in the center of our city.

Nicky. Yeah. Feel the grass. Oh, isn't it wonderful? Nice. Oh, when you're on your hand, good onions. It's almost like fella. You catch a cold line on your ground like this, Mary. No, I won't.

Couldn't know the night like this. The city's from the million miles away. Only a block. I know what it seems that way. Oh, my hand. Mary, listen to this. After a Mary, how are you?

After a married, or when we had children, right? I'm going to bring them over here every night. They're same spot. Mary, I saw a deuce Wilton today. Mickey, you promised. You know what he is.

Well, he's trouble. He even had the police record. Listen, Mary, I got to understand this. He was Wilton and I. Well, we... Mickey, tell me. Tell me quick. Scared all over. Don't get mad honey. We got some money. That's all this afternoon Now for everything we can get married fix up your old ladies arm take a trip even white. What did you do?