RICKY GETS HOME FROM WORK. LUCY IS WAITING.

Oh, hi dear. Boy, was this a day!

Hi, honey. what happened, run out of showgirls?

(feeling up the creek)

Eh, heh heh. How did you know?

(preemptively)

And, no! You can't be a showgirl.

Ricky, I wasn't even going to try that again.

Well, good. You know, honey, you are probably a little old to get even a small, teeeeeny weeeeeny dancing part.

Well, that's ok because I know where I am going to be trained to be a ventrilloquist/dancer.

A what??

A ventrilloquist/dancer. Someone who has a dummy but can dance at the same time.

And, you figure that's your way into my show?

Might be. We'll see.

Yeah, we'll see. I wouldn't hold your breath, dear.

LUCY WALKS OVER TO HER TELEPHONE AND MAKES A CALL.

Hello, Larry's Vent-&-Hoof? Yes, how much for, oh, say, 5 lessons? ... Oh? Only $30? ... Can I sign up right now? ... Oh, I have to appear in person? OK, see you tomorrow.

RICKY HAS DOUBLED OVER IN LAUGHTER.

Honey, don't waste your money on that crap! Vent and Hoof? Really? Come on!

Well, come the end of the week, we'll see who's laughing.

And, what about the ventrilloquist stuff? Do you even have a dummy to use?

I think Fred has one left over from his Vaudeville act way back when. Little Elmer is his name, I think.

You are aware, aren't you, that there is no place for a ventrilloquist in my chorus line?

No, I wasn't.

Well, there's not.

But, maybe there ought to be. It would be novel and crowd-pleasing.

I doubt it.