The Singing Critic

Richard Diamond, private detective. MUSIC MUSIC Why?

The world he's so happy about. Why aren't you at the office? Now don't confuse me dear, one question at a time. Come on in the study and I'll tell you all about it. Oh, now stop being so mysterious.

You never come over here at this time of the day. Read some of these. What are they? Let us read them. All of them? Well, there must be at least of half a hundred. Well, close, 53, and those are only about one tenth of the pilots in my office.

Oh, Rick, I see these. Yeah. The lovely, dear, sweet tenants in that gorgeous building right next to this one. They like your singing. Read a couple. Mimi mimi. Oh, dear, Mr. Diamond. La, la, la, la.

Rick. Go on, go on, go on. Well, stop sounding like a whole quartet. All right. Dear Mr. Diamond, I live in the house building across the way from Ms. Asher's apartment. At least once a week I sit in my living room and listen to the sounds of your melodious voice. Last week however I waited for seven

straight days but without result you did not sing. Please Mr. Diamond for the sake of my family continue to sing at least once a week. I am beginning to nag my husband and yesterday I took the rubber bone away from my French poodle.

Every party shall be exalted. You see, it's getting to be a real problem with me, and if you want to save me the $25 a day, I would have to pay my psychiatrist, sing. La ho!

Yours expectantly Mrs. Louise Cartwright. Rick, they all like this? Well, certainly not. Some of them are really desperate. Now, here's the one I saved out. Read this one if you really want to get a charge.