Rated: PG (Language)
Set: Directly after the end of syndicated episode 481, taped 1981
Gene Rayburn looked for director Marc Breslow’s cue that the show ended. After he saw the familiar slashing motion, he turned to the six people sitting behind two risers next to him. “Hey, that wasn’t bad, crew.”
“Thanks, Gene.” McLean Stevenson bounced in his seat. “Do we have time before the next show? Some of us have to hit the little panelist’s room, if you know what I mean.”
Edie McClurg made a face on the end. “Wouldn’t hurt me, either.”
“I’ll go, too,” added curly-locked Sharon Farrell. “I need to freshen up a little.”
Brett Somers nodded at Charles Nelson Reilly. “Want to get a drink really quick before we start again?”
“Sure.” He climbed off the risers. “But only a little. I’d like to be able to sit up for the next show.”
His best friend sitting next to him smirked. “Do you ever?”
Bill Cullen chuckled at the seat on the upper tier next to Brett. “Those two are something else, aren’t they?”
“If you tell me what it is, I’ll have them cured of it,” Gene quipped. “Hey,” he added, “looking forward to that charity Christmas Carol we’re doing? I can’t wait to be Scrooge. It’ll be nice to play an old geezer besides Old Man Perriwinkle.”
“Well, I don’t know, old friend.” The shorter man sighed. “I’m not sure how you talked me into this. Acting…I’m not as into it as you.”
Gene’s mind already wandered to his performance. “Huh?” He shook out the images of being onstage and figuring out how he should play Scrooge. “Bill, you’re a man of the stage. You told me you did plays in high school. Don’t you love the idea of getting into a role and just…being someone else?”
“Not really.” Bill shrugged his bony shoulders. “I like who I am. I live a good life. I have a wife I love. I’m between jobs, but I like where I’m living. You ought to try moving here, Gene. The weather’s amazing. We found this great little place in Santa Monica…”
The Match Game host shook his head. “Oh no, Bill. I’m happier on the East Coast. Fewer phonies over there, and the air in Cape Cod is so clear, on sunny days, you can see straight across the bay.”
“You wouldn’t have to commute so much, Gene. I know all those plane rides can be exhausting. I had to do it when I hosted $25,000 Pyramid.”
Gene sighed. “I don’t mind the commute, really. My needlepointing is coming along nicely. I’ve had my work in galleries. That’s not really the problem. Bill, I love hosting this show, but…that’s all anyone thinks I am. Just a host. I can do more.”
“I don’t see why this is such a bad thing, Gene.” His smaller friend shrugged. “Maybe it doesn’t net us the most prestige in the world, but we get to meet a lot of interesting people, and we help them win prizes and money most of them need. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing wrong with it, Bill. I enjoy it. I wouldn’t trade this,” Gene swept his arms around the blue and orange set, “for the world. I just…I’d like to try other things, too. I like being onstage, Bill. I like creating a part.”
Bill nodded. “You like being someone else. I can see it in your eyes. No one could host this show like you can, Gene. Your voices really add to the questions, and you have no problems doing all those crazy stunts.” He shrugged again. “I don’t do voices. I didn’t mind appearing on Captain Kangaroo because Bob Keenan is a dear man and a friend of mine, but I’m mostly happy just talking to people and throwing out a few jokes.”
“You’re better at it than you think.” Gene chuckled. “I’ve seen you work, not only here, but on To Tell the Truth. You’re as much of a ham as I am, Bill. You love the spotlight, too. Maybe not in the way I do, but…”
Bill had to grin himself. “We wouldn’t be in this business if we didn’t! That’s not the part I have problems with. I prefer to improvise. Memorizing a script, getting into costume…it’s a bit much for me, Gene. And I think it’s a bit much for you, too. I always wondered why you didn’t push harder with acting. Everyone knows how much you love it.”
“I’m busy. I do other things too, Bill. I work on my garden with Helen. I used to fly. You’ve flown with me!”
The smaller host shook his head. “You’re avoiding the question, Gene. Why don’t you try harder to get acting jobs? You probably could if you wanted.”
He sighed and leaned against the desks. “Maybe I’m a fan of improv, too. I really didn’t enjoy doing that one movie back in the sixties with Doris Day. All the camera set-ups, takes, the people ordering you around…it was too much. I’d rather be on the stage or TV, where you have one person giving you reasonable orders and don’t take all day to film one scene.”
“If you mean ‘It Happened to Jane,’ I was in that movie too, Gene.” Bill grinned. “I don’t know why you didn’t want billing. I thought you were hilarious.”
Gene made a face. “I barely did anything. I stood there and talked over Doris Day. I’d rather deal with one set and all of the cameras than everything going on in the movies. There just isn’t enough spontaneity.” He waved his hand at the contestant’s desk. “You never know what will happen here, and that’s how I like it. I like keeping on my toes. That’s what I like about theater, too. No two performances are alike.”
“I know, old friend.” Bill nodded as Edie and McLean slid into their chairs. “It’s what I like about our jobs. I enjoy the shows. I’m just not…well, maybe I’m insecure in a different way than you. I don’t need to create characters. I kind of like being one.”
His long-time friend gave his a wide white host’s grin. “You’ll know what you’re missing soon, old friend. We’re going to have a great time, appearing together. I can’t wait to order you around and cry over your Christmas dinner with the family.”
Bill gave him a small, nervous grin. “Thanks. And I have no idea what you’ll do as Scrooge, but if you have as much fun with the role as you usually do with Old Man Perriwinkle, I’m sure it’ll be memorable.”
“Hey Gene,” Brett brayed as she and Charles slid into their seats, “what were you an’ Bill doing? Chewing the fat?”
He nodded. “We were just talking, Brett.” Johnny Olsen came out behind him to warm up the crowd. “Everyone ready to win these people more money?” Chrouses of “Oh yeah!” and “You bet!” met his ears.
“Ok, Mr. Scrooge,” Bill chuckled, “let’s make these people rich and keep the Ghosts of Christmas at bay.”
“And all I have to say to that,” he grinned as he made his way backstage, “is bah humbug!”
He went behind the opening doors to the sounds of laughter, some of it probably inflected with liquor, and shouts. “This,” he murmured to himself, “is where the real fun lays. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have it. I want to act, and I want to do it more…but I love this, too, helping people win money. I wouldn’t give up this for the world.”
“Gene?” The stagehand broke his reverie. “You’re on.”
“Of course!” He laughed. “I’m always on!” He grinned at the man, then went down his stairs as Johnny Olsen announced his name to thunderous applause.
