Word: jackpots
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...Legs" but loosely translated "Brains and Brawn." On Brains, the glint of gold is only incidental to the visual gimmicks and the sheer fun of watching the nation's top musclemen come to the aid of the IBMinded. To take home his cut of a $5,600 jackpot, Brain must correctly answer a series of questions spread over four weeks. If he misses, the scene quickly shifts to a race track, a gymnasium or another studio, where Brawn, a topflight French athlete or even a whole team, has to pull off some spectacular physical feat to keep the game...
...gentleman, but such defeats arouse national protest in France. Recently an aviation expert flubbed three questions in a row. His Brawn, Swimming Champion Aldo Eminente, saved him twice. But the strain on Aldo's stroke was too keen. On his third try, Aldo slowed down and their joint jackpot went down the pool drain. From the nation's 700,000 TV rooms came scores of outraged calls and letters...
...basin where U.S. oilmen brought in their first wells almost a century ago. The companies gambled on three wells-and got three dry holes. With the fourth, on a 9,000-acre lease (annual rental: 25? an acre) in the northeast corner of the state, he finally hit the jackpot. Benedum figures the well should produce at least 1,000 bbl. daily on a long-term basis. Within hours of the strike nine companies were in the area snapping up land, and lease prices skyrocketed to $83 an acre. Benedum's companies are already starting two more wells. Says...
From the heyday of radio's first spectacular giveaways, quiz producers have stacked the cards to make the game as entertaining as possible. Stop the Music telephoned listeners, apparently at random, to give them a chance to name the "mystery tune" and win a growing jackpot, but by the time the broadcast started, the calls were stacked up on the switchboard and auditioned by a program staffer, who put them on the air in the most dramatic order. Just in case enough listeners might not know the mystery tune, tips on its name were planted regularly in Walter Winchell...
Proof is spread all over the pages of his new novel, the consistently funny story of the heartland rube who went to New York dressed in an inferiority complex and won through to the jackpot. Midwesterner Jack Jordan has written a book-club selection in his spare time while working at the old family foundry (Bissell himself had worked at the old family pajama factory). When a couple of brash young producers summon him to New York and ask him to turn the book into a play, he feels like an impostor. But with the help of a shrewd director...