A bit of light reading before you watch--Executive producer Gil Fates writes about this episode in his memoirs. Now, we preface this by saying Gil's faded memory exaggerated this incident quite a bit. What you're about to watch doesn't really match up with his memory all that well. But once you read it, you're going to spot the offense that the contestant commits if you pay attention. Keep reading to understand why Goodson-Todman never bothered paying the first contestant his prize money:
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One of the niftiest demonstrations of the fine art of plugola I ever witnessed involved not "What's My Line?" but "I've Got a Secret." The staff had dug up a performer who we'll call Mal Fuller, who did a pickpocket act at clubs and clambakes all over the country...The plan was to have Fuller mingle with the crowd outside and pick the pocket of somebody standing in line to see the "I've Got a Secret broadcast. He checked with Fuller, who assured him that it would be an absolute piece of cake--no problem.
On the air, Garry was to introduce Fuller as a professional pickpocket. His "secret" was to be: TONIGHT I PICKED THE POCKET OF SOMEBODY IN THIS STUDIO AUDIENCE
After the panel had guessed or failed to guess the secret, Fuller was to call the astonished "vitim" up onto stage and go into his routine...As he handed the scapegoat his wallet, he would surreptitiously lift his glasses. Then he'd ash his victim to take a close look at the material in the wallet to make sure it was his. While the man groped around for his missing glasses, Fuller would remove his watch, hand back the glasses, and steal the wallet again.
Chester [Feldman] asked Fuller to plan on picking the pockets of two of the people in line. Thus we would have a standby in case anything went wrong with the first choice. He also asked the CBS ushers to reserve two sets of four seats at the disposal of each of the proposed "victims," since we knew from experience that people seldom came to see a television show alone...[Chester] called Fuller to remind him that since it was winter and since the pocket picking was to be done outside everybody would be wearing coats. Tougher to pick a pocket under an overcoat? Not for Fuller. No problem at all. At that point we didn't realize how he could be so confident.
The first sign that of anything strange was the arrival of the head usher to announce that both of Fuller's choices were men and both were alone, and could he fill in the remaining seats with other people since empty seats looked bad on camera? The announcement was disquieting but not alarming.
...At Garry's invitation, Mal went center stage, opened the wallet, and read the victim's name....the audience at home watched in close-up as one rather spare, bald man began patting his pockets and looking sheepish.
"I think I have your wallet right here, Sir," said Fuller onstage. "Please come up and get it." The bewildered dupe came down the aisle and clambered onto the stage. Fuller asked his name.
"And what do you do for a living?" asked Mal.
"I work in the Plugola Brothers Department Store in Reading, Pennsylvania," came the answer in loud clear tones.
"And just what do you do at Plugola Brothers Department Store?"
"Sometimes I sell Plugola luggage and at other times I work behind the Plugola perfume counter," answered the stooge as he retrieved each object, only to have it disappear again.
"Plugola perfume," said Fuller, as he lifted the wallet for the third time, "that's the kind my wife uses." The audience was having a high old time. Management was not.
Backstage we were all in shock. We'd been twice had, first by the rigged pocket picking, and then by this virtuoso performance of plugola...
None of us said a word to him. Nobody even looked at him. Fuller and the plant headed for the stage door and kept going. We had contracted to pay Fuller the current union scale for his appearance. We never sent him a check and he never had the guts to ask for it.