A Monologue I Like

It's culled from two adjacent scenes in the movie His Girl Friday. You gotta deliver it lighning-fast like Rosalind Russell in the original:

HILDY: (walking into the pressroom) I’ll take that bet. Gee, it’s getting so a girl can’t even leave the room without being discussed by a bunch of old ladies. (picking up the phone) Hello, Post. Yes, get me Walter Burns. This is Hildy Johnson. (back to the newspaper men, gathering round her) Oh I can quit, all right, without a single quiver. I’m gonna live like a human being, not like you chumps. (into phone) Is that you, Walter? Oh, I’ve got some news for you. Yes, I’ve got the interview for you alright, but I’ve also got some more important news. Yes, perhaps you oughta get a pencil and take it down. All ready? Now get this, you double-crossing chimpanzee! There ain't gonna be any interview and there ain't gonna be any story. And that certified cheque of yours is leaving with me in twenty minutes. I wouldn't cover the burning of Rome for you if they were just lighting it up! And if I ever lay my two eyes on you again, I'm gonna walk right up to you and hammer on that monkey skull of yours till it rings like a Chinese gong! Oh, so you don’t know why I’m angry with you. Well, perhaps you should get Louie to tell you the story of his missing watch, and there’s one more little thing I want you to listen to. (She walks over to the typewriter and tears out the sheets that HIAM was just reading. She takes them directly to the phone and furiously rips them up in the speaker. She then picks up the receiver.) You hear that? That’s the story I just wrote. Yes, yes, I know we had a bargain. I just said I’d write it, not that I wouldn’t tear it up. It’s all in little pieces now, Walter, and I hope to do the same for you someday. (She slams down the phone.) And that, my friends, is my farewell to the newspaper game. I’m gonna be a woman, not a news-getting machine. I’m gonna have babies and take care of them and give them cod liver oil and watch their teeth grow. (She starts to put on her coat.) And, oh dear… And if I ever see a one of ‘em even looks at a newspaper again, I’m gonna brain them! Where’s my hat? Oh, it’s on my head! Next time you see me, I should be riding in a Rolls Royce, giving interviews on success. So long, you wage slaves! And where you’re crawling up fire escapes and getting kicked out of front doors and eating Christmas dinners standing up in one-arm jonts, don’t forget your pal, Hildy Johnson!