The Repentant Red-Head

Walk softly, Peter Troy. And now, Peter Troy investigates the repentant redheads. Girl Julie, a minute ago. She's what scriptwriters call my girl Friday. You'll meet her again in a little while, but right now there's another redhead you should meet.

Her name is Jenny. Ah, Jenny. Here's tranquility for you. I think of her and I see a serene picture of complete peace and tranquility. If you see what I mean. I hate you. Now, Janine.

And I know I'll see you again. Now, darling. I'm just darling, you see, Renwick. But you don't. What's her name is, other girls? There's no one but you, beautiful. And go easy on the glass, where will you?

She was here, not so long ago. I can still not have perfume. Where? I could tell you. Oh, my public would hate you for that. Steve Renwick, the poor man Steinbeck. You're as crony and false as a hero of your own books.

Now, honey, let's have a little respect. I don't know why I'm so crazy about you. Then, Julie. You're good. Maybe one day I win. Honeybuns and homicide don't make. Go put some powder on your nose and I'll take you out to dinner.

Go on now. I'll burn for a reservation, not a need. Ping champagne and your sort of music. Ooh. Uh-huh. and just twist me around his little finger. Yum, on the floor. Jenny, don't touch it.

I'll get it doctor. Too late. Honey buzzing for the homicide, baby. How do you buzz with it? Mr. Riddick, are you all? Say what happened? What have you done? We're all safe. Mr. Riddick, you're holding a gun and you say you've done nothing.