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Foreign Correspondent
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Captain of Mohican: Mr. Haverstock, I want a talk with you.
Johnny Jones: Yes sir?
Captain of Mohican: I just found out you're a newspaperman.
Johnny Jones: I guess that's right.
Captain of Mohican: Oh, it is, eh? Why didn't you tell me that when I questioned you? You lied to me, sir!
Johnny Jones: My dear captain, when you've been shot down in a British plane by a German destroyer, 300 miles off the coast of England, latitude 45, and have been hanging on to a half-submerged wing for hours, waiting to drown, with half a dozen other stricken human beings, you're liable to forget you're a newspaperman for a moment or two!

Johnny Jones: I'm in love with a girl, and I'm going to help hang her father.

Johnny Jones: I'm in love with you, and I want to marry you.
Carol Fisher: I'm in love with you, and I want to marry you.
Johnny Jones: Hmm... that cuts down our love scene quite a bit, doesn't it?

Johnny Jones: I came 4,000 miles to get a story. I get shot at like a duck in a shooting gallery, I get pushed off buildings, I *get* the story, and then I've got to shut up!

[Radio broadcast from London]
Johnny Jones: Hello, America. I've been watching a part of the world being blown to pieces. A part of the world as nice as Vermont, and Ohio
[siren sounds]
Johnny Jones: , and Virginia, and California, and Illinois lies ripped up and bleeding like a steer in a slaughterhouse, and I've seen things that make the history of the savages read like Pollyanna legends. I've seen women...
[bombs begin exploding]
English Announcer: It's a raid; we shall have to postpone the broadcast.
Johnny Jones: Oh, postpone, nothing! Let's go on as long as we can.
English Announcer: Madam, we have a shelter downstairs.
Johnny Jones: How about it, Carol?
Carol Fisher: They're listening in America, Johnny.
Johnny Jones: Okay, we'll tell 'em, then. I can't read the rest of the speech I had, because the lights have gone out, so I'll just have to talk off the cuff. All that noise you hear isn't static - it's death, coming to London. Yes, they're coming here now. You can hear the bombs falling on the streets and the homes. Don't tune me out, hang on a while - this is a big story, and you're part of it. It's too late to do anything here now except stand in the dark and let them come... as if the lights were all out everywhere, except in America. Keep those lights burning, cover them with steel, ring them with guns, build a canopy of battleships and bombing planes around them. Hello, America, hang on to your lights: they're the only lights left in the world!

Carol Fisher: I think the world has been run long enough by well-meaning professionals. We might give the amateurs a chance now.

Johnny Jones: If you knew how much I love you, you'd faint.

Carol Fisher: You never hear of circumstances out of our control rushing us into peace, have you?

Johnny Jones: This is Scott ffolliott, newspaperman same as you. Foreign correspondent. Mr. Haverstock, Mr. ffolliott.
Scott ffolliott: With a double 'F'.
Johnny Jones: How do you do?
Scott ffolliott: How do you do?
Johnny Jones: I don't get the double 'F'.
Scott ffolliott: They're at the beginning. Both small 'F's
Johnny Jones: They can't be at the beginning.
Scott ffolliott: One of my ancestors was beheaded by Henry VIII. His wife dropped the capital letter to commemorate it. There it is.
Johnny Jones: How do you say it, like a stutter?
Scott ffolliott: Just a straight 'fuh'.

Mr. Powers: Foreign correspondent! I could get more news out of Europe looking in a crystal ball.

Mr. Powers: How would you like to cover the biggest story in the world today?
Johnny Jones: Give me and expense account and I'll cover anything.
Mr. Powers: I'll give you an expense account.
Johnny Jones: Okay, What's the story?
Mr. Powers: Europe.
Johnny Jones: Well, I'm afraid I'm not exactly equipped, sir, but I can do some reading up.
Mr. Powers: No no, no reading up. I like you just as you are, Mr. Jones. What Europe needs is a fresh, unused mind.
Johnny Jones: Foreign correspondent, huh?
Mr. Powers: No, reporter. I don't want correspondence, I want news.

Johnny Jones: [Powers is giving Jones instructions on whom he should interview in Europe] Anyone else?
Mr. Powers: No.
Johnny Jones: Well how about Hitler? Don't you think it would be a good idea to pump him? He must have something on his mind.

Mr. Powers: I don't want any more economists, sages, or oracles bombinating over our cables. I want a reporter. Somebody who doesn't know the difference between an ism and a kangaroo.

Stebbins: Oh, Miss, please... A Scotch and soda, and a glass of milk.
Johnny Jones: A glass of milk?
Stebbins: Yeah, I'm on the wagon. I went to the doctor today to see about these jitters I got, and he said it was the wagon for a month, or a whole new set of organs. I can't afford a whole new set of organs.
Johnny Jones: Well, if I'd known you were on the wagon, I could've got along all right without this, but as long as it's here...
[toasts]
Johnny Jones: Good luck!
Stebbins: [watches him drink] Good?
Johnny Jones: Yes, it's just like any other Scotch and soda.
Stebbins: [morosely] That's what I thought.
[sips milk]
Stebbins: Doesn't taste the same as when I was a baby...

Scott ffolliott: [entering a room full of spies] Pardon me gentlemen, I represent the Jupiter Life Assurance, could I interest you in a small policy?
[a gun, and the woman holding it on him, follow]
Mr. Krug: [angrily] Why did you bring him up here?
[taking gun and giving it to another confederate to point at ffolliott]
Female conspirator: I didn't know what to do, he tried to pass by!
Scott ffolliott: I would gladly relieve the young lady of this embarrassment, but you know how women are with firearms, they have no sense of timing. Now look, I'll just sit here and you carry on with whatever you were doing. Don't mind me, I sometimes sit like this for hours.

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