"SOME LIKE IT HOT"
Ashton Productions November 12, 1958
1041 N. Formosa
SOME LIKE IT HOT
1. CITY AT NIGHT. 1.
A hearse of Late Twenties vintage is proceeding at a
dignified pace along a half-deserted wintry street.
Inside the hearse, there are four somber men in black - and
a coffin, of course, with a wreath of chrysanthemums on
One of the men is driving, another is in the seat beside him.
The other two are sitting in the rear of the hearse, flanking
the coffin. All four seem fully aware of the solemnity of the
Now they hear a SIREN, faint at first, but rapidly growing
louder. The driver and the man next to him exchange a
nervous glance. The other two men move tensely toward
the rear door of the hearse, raise the black curtain over the
glass panel, and peek out cautiously.
Through the glass panel, they see a police car bearing down
on them, the red light blinking, the SIREN screaming.
The two men at the rear window gesture to the driver to
step on it. He does.
The hearse, obviously a souped-up job, instantly picks up
speed, weaves crazily through traffic, the police car in hot
pursuit. The hearse careens around a corner at eighty
miles an hour, the police car right on its tail.
By this time the policemen are leaning out of their car with
drawn guns, firing at the hearse.
The two men in the rear of the hearse, flattened against the
sides, pull a couple of sawed-off shotguns out of a hidden
overhead rack. Police bullets smash the glass panel and
whistle through the hearse. The driver and the man next to
him duck, but the hearse continues at the same breakneck
speed. The two men in back shove their guns through the
shattered glass, fire at the police car.
Despite the hail of lead, the police car - its windshield
cobwebbed with bullet holes - gains on the hearse.
Suddenly the car skids out of control, jumps the curb,
comes to a screeching stop. Policemen leap out, fire after
In the speeding hearse, the last of the police bullets thud
into the coffin. Instantly three geysers of liquid spurt
through the bullet holes. As the firing recedes, the two men
in the back put away their guns, remove the wreath from
the coffin, take the lid off. The inside is jam-packed with
bottles of booze, some of them shattered by the bullets. As
the men start to lift out the broken bottles - SUPERIMPOSE:
2. EXT. INTERSECTION OF STREETS - NIGHT. 2.
Traffic is light. All the shops are dark except one - a dimly
lit establishment, from which drift the mournful strains of
an organ. A circumspect sign reads:
MOZARELLA'S FUNERAL PARLOR
24 Hour Service
In the window, a sample coffin is on display.
There seem to be some rites going on inside, because a
number of mourners, singly and in couples, are hurrying
from the cold, windy street into Mozarella's parlor.
Meanwhile, the hearse with the damp coffin draws up to the
delivery entrance at the side of the building. The driver
honks the horn - one long and two short - as the other men
step down and start to slide the coffin out. The side door
opens, and a dapper gent emerges. He wears a tight-fitting
black suit, a black fedora, and gray spats. The spats are
very important. He always wears spats. His name is SPATS
COLOMBO. He cases the street, motions the men inside. As
they carry the coffin past him, he removes his fedora, holds
it reverently over his heart. Then he follows the men in, his
Across the street and around the corner, three police cars
draw up silently, and about fifteen uniformed policemen
and plain-clothes men spill out. A Captain gives whispered
orders, and the men scatter and discreetly take up positions
around the funeral parlor.
Out of one of the cars steps MULLIGAN, a tough Federal
Agent - in plain clothes, of course. With him is a little
weasel of a man, shivering with cold and fear. They call
him TOOTHPICK CHARLIE for two reasons - because his
name is Charlie, and because he has never been seen
without a toothpick in his mouth.
(indicating funeral parlor)
All right, Charlie - this the joint?
And who runs it?
I already told you.
Refresh my memory.
That's very refreshing.
Now what's the password?
I come to Grandma's funeral.
(he hands him a folded
piece of black crepe)
Here's your admission card.
If you want a ringside table, tell 'em
you're one of the pall bearers.
The police captain joins Mulligan.
We're all set. When is the kickoff?
As Mulligan consults his watch, Charlie, the toothpick
working nervously in his mouth, tugs Mulligan's sleeve.
Look, Chief - I better blow now, because if
Spats Colombo sees me, it's Goodbye Charlie.
Charlie scoots up the dark street, disappears.
(to the police captain)
Give me five minutes - then hit 'em
with everything you got.
They synchronize their watches. Then Mulligan crosses to
Mozarella's parlor, unfolding the black crepe Charlie gave
him. It is a mourning band, and he slips it over the left
sleeve of his overcoat.
3. INT. MOZARELLA'S FUNERAL PARLOR - NIGHT. 3.
It looks legitimate enough - with potted palms, urns and
funeral statuary. A harmless gray-haired man is playing
the organ with appropriate feeling. Daintily arranging a
funeral spray is the proprietor himself, MR. MOZARELLA.
His heavyweight build, bashed-in nose and cauliflower ears
don't quite jibe with his mourning coat, striped pants, ascot
and carnation. Dusting one of the marble angels is another
funeral director, in the same somber uniform.
(with grave sympathy)
Good evening, sir.
I come to the old lady's funeral.
(looking him over)
I don't believe I've seen you at any of our
That's because I've been on the wagon.
Where are they holding the wake?
I'm supposed to be one of the pallbearers.
(to funeral director)
Show the gentleman to the chapel -
pew number three.
This way, sir.
He leads Mulligan past the organ toward the black-paneled
wall, where there is no evidence of a door.
The organist, without missing a note in his playing, reaches
over to the end of the keyboard and pulls out a stop. One
of the panels slides open, and there is a blast of MUSIC from
the chapel. It's jazz - and it's SWEET GEORGIA BROWN.
Mulligan rears back momentarily, then follows the funeral
director in. The organist pushes the stop in again, and the
panel slides shut.
4. INT. SPEAKEASY - NIGHT. 4.
Grandma must have been quite a person, because she left a
lot of condoling friends behind, and they are holding a very
lively wake. The chapel is jumping. A small band is blaring
out SWEET GEORGIA BROWN. The musicians are not the
slick, well-fed instrumentalists you would find in Guy
Lombardo's band - they have all been through the wringer,
and so have their threadbare tuxedos. On the stamp-sized
dance floor, six girls in abbreviated costumes are doing a
frenetic Charleston. Crowded around the small tables,
mourners in black arm-bands are drowning their sorrows in
whatever they drink out of their coffee cups.
Well, if you gotta go-this is the way to do it.
The funeral director leads Mulligan to a table next to the
bandstand. As he moves off, a waiter comes up.
What'll it be, sir?
Sorry, sir, we only serve coffee.
Scotch coffee, Canadian coffee,
Make is Scotch. A demitasse.
With a little soda on the side.
As the waiter starts away, Mulligan stops him.
Haven't you got another pew -
not so close to the band?
(points to a better table)
How about that one?
Sorry, sir. That's reserved for members
of the immediate family.
He winks, goes off. Mulligan scans the room.
From a side door comes Spats Colombo, followed by the
four hearsemen. They walk cockily toward the table
'reserved for the immediate family.' A DRUNK, standing
with a cup of booze in his hand, is in their way. Colombo
pushes him aside, and the contents of the cup slop over.
Colombo freezes in his tracks, glances at his feet. The
other four men have also stopped, and stare in the same
Spats Colombo's immaculate spats are no longer
immaculate. There is a whiskey stain on one of them.
Colombo throws his henchmen a sharp look. They grab the
offending drunk, hustle him toward the exit.
(waving empty cup)
Hey - I want another cup of coffee.
I want another cup of coffee.
Colombo proceeds toward the table, seats himself, crosses
his legs, takes a handkerchief out of his breast pocket, and
meticulously mops the moist spat. His four companions,
their mission accomplished, join him at the table.
Mulligan, who has been studying Colombo, consults his
wrist-watch. The waiter comes up with his order - a
demitasse half full of Scotch, and a split of club soda.
Better bring the check now - in case
the joint gets raided.
Who's going to raid a funeral?
Some people got no respect for the dead.
The waiter moves off. Mulligan sips from the cup, winces,
takes a cigar out of his pocket and starts to light it. His
eyes wander to the chorus girls.
The girls have gone into a tap-dance. The captain of the
chorus looks toward the bandstand, grins and winks at -
- JOE, the saxophone player. He winks back. JERRY, who is
thumping the bass-fiddle behind him, leans forward and
taps Joe on the shoulder.
Say, Joe - tonight's the night, isn't it?
(eye on tap-dancer)
I mean, we get paid tonight, don't we?
He takes the mouthpiece out of his saxophone, wets the reed.
Because I lost a filling in my back tooth.
I gotta go to the dentist tomorrow.
Dentist? We been out of work for four
months - and you want to blow your
first week's pay on your teeth?
It's just a little inlay - it doesn't even
have to be gold -
How can you be so selfish? We owe back
rent - we're in four eighty-nine bucks to
Moe's Delicatessen - we're being sued by
three Chinese lawyers because our check
bounced at the laundry - we've borrowed
money from every girl in the line -
You're right, Joe.
Of course I am.
First thing tomorrow we're going to pay
everybody a little something on account.
No we're not.
First thing tomorrow we're going out to the
dog track and put the whole bundle on
You're going to bet my money on a dog?
He's a shoo-in. I got the word from Max
the waiter - his brother-in-law is the
electrician who wires the rabbit -
What are you giving me with the rabbit?
(pulling form sheet
out of pocket)
Look at those odds - ten to one.
If he wins, we can pay everybody.
But suppose he loses?
What are you worried about? This job
is going to last a long time.
But suppose it doesn't?
Jerry-boy - why do you have to paint
everything so black? Suppose you get hit by
a truck? Suppose the stock market crashes?
Jerry, slapping the bass, is no longer listening. His eyes
have strayed to -
Mulligan, sitting at his table, puffing on the cigar. It isn't
drawing too well. Mulligan reaches under his coat, unpins
his Department of Justice badge from his vest. Using the
pin of the shining badge, he pokes a hole in the wet end of
Jerry has stopped playing, and is watching Mulligan's
operation with morbid fascination. Joe, completely
unaware, continues talking.
Suppose Mary Pickford divorces
(paying no attention)
Suppose Lake Michigan overflows?
Don't look now - but the whole town
is under water!
He nods toward Mulligan. Joe looks off. Then, without a
word, they both start packing their instruments.
Mulligan pins the badge back on, checks his wrist-watch.
...four, three, two, one...
He glances toward -
the door from the funeral parlor. Right on the dot, a pair
of police axes smash through the door.
Instant pandemonium breaks loose in the speakeasy.
MUSIC stops, women scream, customers, chorus girls and
waiter scramble toward the side doors. But they too are
splintering under the assault of the police axes. The crowd
falls back, milling around frantically.
Mulligan stands up, cups his hands to his mouth, and roars
at the top of his voice.
All right, everybody - this is a raid.
I'm a federal agent, and you're all under arrest.
Policemen come streaming through the splintered doors.
Carried in on the tide is the Drunk who was just tossed out,
reeling unsteadily, and waving his empty coffee cup aloft.
I want another cup of coffee.
The policemen start rounding up the customers and
employees, are herding them toward the exits.
On the bandstand, Joe and Jerry have packed their
instruments, and start to fight their way through the milee,
toward some stairs leading up.
Mulligan, a couple of policemen in tow, comes up to Spats
and his henchmen, sitting calmly at their table, with five
glasses of white liquid in front of them.
Okay, Spats - the services are over.
A little country club we run for retired
bootleggers. I'm gonna put your name
up for membership.
I never join nothin'.
You'll like it there. I'll have the prison tailor
fit you with a pair of special spats - striped!
(to his companions, dead-pan)
Who's the rap this time?
Embalming people with coffee -
Me? I'm just a customer here.
Come on, Spats - we know you own this
joint. Mozarella is just fronting for you.
Mozarella? Never heard of him.
We got different information.
From who? Toothpick Charlie, maybe?
Toothpick Charlie? Never heard of him.
He picks up Spats' glass, sniffs it suspiciously.
All right - on your feet.
(getting up slowly)
You're wasting the taxpayers' money.
If you want to, you can call your lawyer.
(pointing to his four hoods)
These are my lawyers - all Harvard men.
Mulligan and the two policemen lead Spats and his Harvard
5. EXT. FUNERAL PARLOR - NIGHT. 5.
Policemen, under the supervision of the captain, are
herding customers into a paddy-wagon. Fighting his way
out of the wagon is our Drunk, waving his coffee cup in the
I want another cup of coffee.
He staggers into the alley, toward the side entrance of the
speakeasy, CAMERA MOVING with him. Through the
smashed-up side door, policemen are ushering more
customers, waiters, musicians and the dancing girls.
CAMERA MOVES UP TOWARD a fire escape on the second
floor. Joe and Jerry, carrying their instruments and
overcoats, have just climbed through a window onto the fire
escape, and are inspecting the scene below. The shot-up
hearse is parked directly beneath them. stealthily they
climb down the ladder, drop to the roof of the hearse. Then
they scramble over the radiator, steal down the alley away
from the street. They stop in the shadows to put on their
Well, that solves one problem. We don't
have to worry about who to pay first.
Quiet - I'm thinking.
Of course, the landlady is going to lock us out
- Moe said no more knackwurst on credit -
and we can't borrow any more from the girls,
because they're on their way to jail -
Shut up, will you? I wonder how much Sam
the Bookie will give up for our overcoats?
Sam the Bookie? Nothing doing! You're not
putting my overcoat on that dog!
I told you - it's a sure thing.
But we'll freeze - it's below zero -
we'll catch pneumonia.
Look, stupid, he's ten to one. Tomorrow,
we'll have twenty overcoats!
6. EXT. CHICAGO STREET - DAY. 6.
The street is covered with snow. Joe and Jerry, without
overcoats, the collars of their tuxedos turned up against the
bitter cold, come down the steps of the elevated, carrying
their instruments. The only thing that keeps Jerry from
freezing is that he is boiling over inside. As they proceed
along the sidewalk, Jerry finally can't hold it any more.
Greased Lightning! Why do I listen to you?
I ought to have my head examined!
I thought you weren't talking to me.
Look at the bull fiddle - it's dressed
warmer than I am.
They come up to a building in front of which are gathered
several small groups of shivering musicians, also equipped
with instruments. Joe and Jerry exchange frozen waves
with their colleagues, start through the entrance.
7. INT. CORRIDOR OF MUSIC BUILDING - DAY. 7.
Joe moves down the corridor, Jerry tagging along grimly
beside him. Other job-seeking musicians mill around, and a
melange of musical sounds and singing voices issues from
the various offices, studios and rehearsal halls.
Joe and Jerry come up to a door marked: KEYNOTE
MUSICAL AGENCY - BANDS, SOLOISTS, SINGERS. Joe opens
the door, revealing a crummy office, with a secretary
behind a desk.
Joe shuts the door, and they shuffle along to the next
agency, which is marked: JULES STEIN - MUSIC
CORPORATION OF AMERICA. Joe opens the door. This is
like the other office - except a little crummier. There is a
secretary behind the desk.
He opens the door to the next agency. On the door it says:
SIG POLIAKOFF - BANDS FOR ALL OCCASIONS. There is the
usual secretary behind the usual desk, and her name is
NELLIE. She is a brunette, somewhat past her prime, but
Oh, it's you! You got a lot of nerve -
He shuts the door quickly, starts to move on.
Joe - come back here!
Joe stops in his tracks. With a resigned shrug to Jerry, he
opens the door again, and the two of them start in.
8. INT. POLIAKOFF'S OUTER OFFICE - DAY. 8.
Beside Nellie, there is another secretary pecking away at a
typewriter. Nellie's face is grim as Joe and Jerry come up.
Now look, Nellie - if it's about last
Saturday night - I can explain everything.
(to Jerry; pointing at Joe)
What a heel! I spend four dollars to get my
hair marcelled, I buy me a new negligee,
I bake him a great big pizza pie...
- and where were you?
Yeah - where were you?
Don't you remember?
He has this bad tooth - it got impacted -
the whole jaw swole up -
(Joe throws him a look)
Boy, did it ever!
So I had to rush him to the hospital and
give him a transfusion...
Right. We have the same blood type...
- Type O.
Nellie baby, I'll make it up to you.
You're making it up pretty good so far.
The minute we get a job, I'm going to
take you out to the swellest restaurant -
How about it, Nellie? Has Poliakoff got
anything for us? We're desperate.
Well, it just so happens he is looking for a
bass and a sax -
(to the other secretary)
(she winks at her)
Did you hear that, Joe?
What's the job?
It's three weeks in Florida -
The Seminole-Ritz, in Miami.
Transportation and all expenses paid...
Isn't she a bit of terrific?
(busses Nellie on
the cheek; to Jerry)
Come on - let's talk to Poliakoff.
They start toward the door of the inner office.
You better wait a minute, boys -
he's got some people in there with him.
That stops them.
9. INT. POLIAKOFF'S INNER OFFICE - DAY. 9.
The room is small and cluttered, and the walls are covered
with photographs of Poliakoff's clients - bands, vocalists,
trios, radio personalities.
Sitting behind the desk, speaking urgently into the phone, is
SIG POLIAKOFF, a gruff, likable man in his fifties. Pacing up
and down on the other side of the desk is SWEET SUE,
flashily-dressed broad, who has seen thirty summers and a
few hard winters. As she paces, she nervously flips a large
white pill from one hand to the other. Slouched in a chair is
BIENSTOCK, a somewhat prissy man of forty wearing thick
glasses. He has a card file on his lap, is thumbing through it.
Look, Gladys, it's three weeks in Florida -
Sweet Sue and Her Society Syncopators -
they need a couple of girls on sax and bass -
what do you mean, who is this? Sig Poliakoff.
I got a job for you - Gladys, are you there?
Meshugeh! Played for a hundred and twelve
hours at a marathon dance, and now she's
in bed with a nervous collapse.
Tell her to move over.
She has poured herself a glass of water from a pitcher on
the desk, and now she plops the pill into her mouth, washes
(looking up from file)
What about Cora Jackson?
The last I heard, she was playing with the
Salvation Army, yet.
(consulting list on desk;
Sue has wandered over to one of the framed photos on the
wall. It shows Sue posed in front of her band - sixteen girls,
all blonde, all in identical gowns. On the drum it says
SWEET SUE AND HER SOCIETY SYNCOPATORS.
Those idiot broads! Here we are all packed
to go to Miami, and what happens? The
saxophone runs off with a Bible salesman,
and the bass fiddle gets herself pregnant.
(turning to Bienstock)
I ought to fire you, Bienstock.
Me? I'm the manager of the band -
not the night watchman.
Hello? Let me talk to Bessie Malone - what's
she doing in Philadelphia? -- on the level?
Bessie let her hair grow and is playing
Black Bottom Bessie?
Schpielt zich mit der Philharmonic.
How about Rosemary Schultz?
Did you hear? She slashed her wrists
when Valentino died!
We might as well all slash our wrists if we
don't round up two dames by this evening.
She picks up her handbag. Bienstock rises, takes his
glasses off, puts them in his pocket.
Look, Sig, you know the kind of girls we need.
We don't care where you find them - just
get them on that train by eight o'clock.
Be nonchalant. Trust Poliakoff. The moment
anything turns up, I'll give you a little tingle.
(feels her tummy)
I wonder if I have room for another ulcer?
Bienstock opens the door, and follows Sue into the outer
office. Joe and Jerry, who have been biding their time
outside, slip in and shut the door after them.
Hey, Sig - can we talk to you?
Nellie, get me long distance.
(to the boys)
What is it?
It's about the Florida job.
The Florida job?
Nellie told us about it.
We're not too late, are we?
What are you - a couple of comedians?
Get out of here!
Long distance? Get me the William Morris
Agency in New York.
You need a bass and a sax, don't you?
The instruments are right, but you are not.
I want to speak to Mr. Morris.
What's wrong with us?
You're the wrong shape. Goodbye.
The wrong shape? You looking for
hunchbacks or something?
It's not the backs that worry me.
What kind of band is this, anyway?
You got to be under twenty-five -
We could pass for that.
- you got to be blonde -
We could dye our hair.
- and you got to be girls.
We could -
No, we couldn't!
You mean it's a girls' band?
Yeah, that's what he means.
Good old Nellie!
(starting toward door)
I ought to wring her neck!
Yes, I'm holding on.
Wait a minute, Joe. Lets talk this over.
Why couldn't we do it? Last year, when we
played in that gypsy tearoom, we wore
gold earrings. And you remember when
you booked us with that Hawaiian band?
What's with him - he drinks?
No. And he ain't been eating so good, either.
He's got an empty stomach and it's gone
to his head.
But, Joe - three weeks in Florida! We could
borrow some clothes from the girls in
the chorus -
You've flipped your wig!
Now you're talking! We pick up a couple of
second-hand wigs - a little padding here
and there - call ourselves Josephine and
Josephine and Geraldine!
He drags Jerry toward the door.
Look, if you boys want to pick up a
little money tonight -
(they stop and turn)
At the University of Illinois they are
having - you should excuse the expression -
a St. Valentine's dance.
We'll take it!
You got it. It's six dollars a man. Be on the
campus in Urbana at eight o'clock -
All the way to Urbana - for a one night stand?
It's twelve bucks. We can get one of the
overcoats out of hock.
Hello, Mr. Morris? This is Poliakoff, in Chicago.
Say, you wouldn't have a couple of girl
musicians available? A sax player and a base?
(at the door)
Look, if William Morris doesn't come through -
Come on, Geraldine!
He pulls him into the outer office.
10. INT. POLIAKOFF'S OUTER OFFICE - DAY. 10.
Joe leads Jerry out.
It's a hundred miles, Joe - it's snowing -
how are we going to get there?
I'll think of something. Don't crowd me.
How did it go, girls?
We ought to wring your neck.
Please, Jerry - that's no way to talk.
(turning on the charm)
Nellie baby - what are you doing tonight?
Because I got some plans -
I'm not doing anything. I just thought I'd
go home and have some cold pizza -
And you'll be in all evening?
(melted by now)
Good! Then you won't be needing your car.
My car? Why, you -
Joe silences her protest with a kiss. Jerry shakes his head
with mock admiration.
Isn't he a bit of terrific?
11. EXT. CLARK STREET - DAY. 11.
Joe and Jerry, carrying their instruments, are coming along
the snow-covered sildewalk toward a garage entrance,
above which is a sign reading: CHARLIE'S GARAGE. Their
shoulders are hunched up against the cold.
We could've had three weeks in Florida -
all expenses paid. Lying around in the sun -
palm trees - frying fish...
Knock it off, will you?
They step over the chain blocking the entrance, start into
12. INT. CHARLIE'S GARAGE - DAY. 12.
There are rows of parked cars, a lube rack and a gas pump.
Against the wall under a naked electric light bulb hanging
from a cord, five men are playing stud poker.
A couple of mechanics, in grease-stained coveralls, are
watching the game. The dealer is Toothpick Charlie, the
inevitable toothpick in his mouth.
King high-pair of bullets-possible straight -
possible nothing-pair of eights-
Joe and Jerry come in from the street. One of the
mechanics notices them, nudges Toothpick Charlie. Charlie
looks up, and seeing the instrument cases, leaps to his feet,
drawing a gun from his shoulder holster. The other four
players also jump up, and pulling their guns, level them at
Joe and Jerry.
All right, you two - drop 'em.
We came to pick up a car.
He nods to one of the mechanics, who steps up to Joe and
Jerry, starts to open the instrument cases.
Nellie Weinmeyer's car.
(as the bass and sax
He mops his brow with the back of his sleeve, and putting
his gun back in the holster, picks up the deck of cards
Let's go. Pair of aces bets.
The other players resume their seats. Joe and Jerry follow
the mechanic toward the parked cars.
It's a '25 Hupmobile coupe. Green.
The mechanic leads them up to the car, which is parked
near the gas pump.
Need some gas?
(takes some coins
out of pocket)
Like about forty cents' worth.
The mechanic unscrews the cap of the gas tank, inserts the
rubber hose from the pump.
Put it on Miss Weinmeyer's bill?
(signals Jerry to put
And while you're at it - fill 'er up.
From the street outside comes the loud squeal of tires.
Jerry glances off casually toward the entrance.
A black Dusenberg bursts the chain hanging across the
street entrance, skids into the garage, takes to a screeching
stop some ten feet from the card players. Toothpick
Charlie and his cronies leap up and reach for their guns.
Too late. Four men have scrambled out of the car, two
armed with submachine guns, the other two with sawed-off
shotguns. We recognize them as Spats Colombo's
All right, everybody hands up and face the wall.
The frightened poker players start to obey.
Jerry is watching the scene, open-mouthed. Joe grabs his
shoulder, pulls him down behind the Hupmobile.
The Second Henchman notices the mechanic standing
petrified beside the gas pump.
(waving machine gun)
Hey - join us!
The mechanic raises his hands, moves reluctantly toward
the six men lined up against the wall.
A pair of men's feet step down from the limousine. They
are encased in immaculate spats.
Jerry, crouching behind the Hupmobile with Joe, grabs his
It's Spats Colombo -
Joe clamps his hand over Jerry's mouth.
Spats Colombo joins his armed henchmen, who are covering
the seven men facing the wall with their hands up.
Hello, Charlie. Long time no see.
(glancing over his
What is it, Spats? What do you want here?
Just dropped in to pay my respects.
You don't owe me no nothing.
Oh, I wouldn't say that. You were nice enough
to recommend my mortuary to some of
He has strolled over to the table, and picking up the deck of
cards, starts to deal out another round to the abandoned
I don't know what you're talking about.
So now I got all those coffins on my hands -
and I hate to see them go to waste.
Honest, Spats. I had nothing to do with it.
Spats deals Toothpick Charlie's fifth card, then turns up the
Too bad, Charlie. You would have had
(flips cards away)
(knowing what's coming)
No, Spats - no, no, no -
Spats nods, and the two machine-gunners raise their
weapons, start to fire methodically at their off-scene
Behind the Hupmobile, Jerry screws his eyes shut painfully
as the steady chatter of bullets continues.
I think I'm going to be sick.
The machine guns stop firing. There is a moment's silence.
Suddenly, the bas tank of the Hupmobile overflows, and the
rubber hose from the pump whips out, gushing gasoline
over the floor.
Spats and his henchmen, hearing the SOUND, whirl around
and catch sight of Joe and Jerry squatting behind the car.
All right - come on out of there.
Joe and Jerry emerge quakingly from behind the Hupmobile.
They try to raise their hands, but find this rather difficult to
manage while holding on to their instruments. Jerry darts
a horrified glance toward the foot of the wall.
We didn't see anything -
- did we?
No - nothing. Besides, it's none of our business if
you guys want to knock each other off -
Joe nudges him violently with his elbow, and he breaks off.
Don't I know you two from somewhere?
We're just a couple of musicians - we come to
pick up a car - Nellie Weinmeyer's car -
there's a dance tonight -
(starting to edge away)
Come on, Jerry.
Wait a minute. Where do you think
To Urbana. It's a hundred miles.
You ain't going nowhere.
The only way you'll get to Urbana is feet first.
During this, one of the bodies huddled grotesquely against
the foot of the wall begins to stir. It is Toothpick Charlie.
He is covered with blood, but there is still a spark of life in
him, and his toothpick is still clutched between his teeth.
Painfully, he starts to worm his way across the floor toward
a phone on a wooden shelf.
Spats and his gang, facing Joe and Jerry, are not aware of
I don't like no witnesses.
We won't breathe a word.
You won't breathe nothing' - not even air.
He motions lazily to the Second Henchman. The henchman
slowly levels his machine gun at Joe and Jerry, who stand
At that very moment, Toothpick Charlie reaches up for the
phone. But he is too weak to hold on, and the receiver
drops from his limp hand, and clatters to the asphalt floor.
Instantly, Spats and his henchman wheel around. Spats
grabs the machine gun from the Second Henchman, and
perforates what is left of Charlie with a hail of lead.
Toothpick Charlie crumbles in a heap. He is quite dead.
Spats' be-spatted foot comes into SHOT, disdainfully kicks
the toothpick out of Charlie's mouth.
Joe and Jerry have taken advantage of this momentary
diversion. Like scalded jackasses, they are sprinting toward
the entrance, hanging on to their instruments.
Spats and his boys pivot, see the two running. They let go
with a salvo of shots, just as Joe and Jerry scoot through
the garage door and disappear down the street.
A couple of henchmen start after them. There is the SOUND
of an approaching police SIREN.
Come on - let's blow. We'll take care of
those guys later.
They all pile into the black Dussenberg. The driver shifts
into reverse and the car shoots backwards out of the
13. EXT. ALLEY - DAY. 13.
Joe and Jerry come skidding around the corner from Clark
Street, race down the snow-covered alley. In b.g. there is
the SOUND of squealing tires and police sirens.
(as they run)
I think they got me.
They got the bull-fiddle.
You don't see any blood?
Not yet. But if those guys catch us,
there'll be blood all over. Type O.
They start running even faster.
Where are we running, Joe?
As far away as possible.
That's not far enough. You don't know those
guys! But they know us. Every hood in
Chicago will be looking for us -
They reach the end of the alley. A couple of motorcycle
policemen, their sirens wailing, flash by in the direction of
the garage. The word must have spread, because
pedestrians are also running in the same direction. Joe
stops, looks around quickly, and seeing a cigar store on the
corner drags Jerry inside.
14. INT. CIGAR STORE - DAY. 14.
Joe hurries to a wall telephone near the entrance. Jerry
Got a nickel?
He sets the saxophone case down, and taking a coin from
Jerry, inserts it in the slot.
You going to call the police?
The police? We'd never live to testify.
Not against Spats Colombo.
We got to get out of town. Maybe
we ought to grow beards.
We are going out of town. But we're
going to shave.
Shave? At a time like this? Those guys got
machine guns - they're going to blast
our heads off - and you want to shave?
Shave our legs, stupid.
Stupid is right. Jerry still doesn't get it.
(into phone; his voice
a tremulous soprano)
Hello? Mr. Poliakoff? I understand you're
looking for a couple of girl musicians.
Now Jerry gets it.
15. EXT. CHICAGO RAILROAD PLATFORM - NIGHT. 15.
Two pairs of high-heeled shoes, unusually large in size, are
hurrying along the platform. CAMERA FOLLOWS them and
PANS UP gradually, revealing rather hefty legs in rolled
stockings, short dresses, coats with cheap fur pieces, and
rakish cloche hats. One of the pair carries a saxophone
case, the other a bull-fiddle case, and each has a Gladstone
A train, with steam up, is loading for departure. Redcaps,
passengers, baggage carts.
Florida Limited leaving on Track Seven for
Washington, Charleston, Savannah, Jacksonville
and Miami. All aboard. All aboard.
Our two passenger accelerate their pace. But evidently they
are not too adept at navigating in high heels. Suddenly the
one with the bull-fiddle twists her ankle - or we should say
his ankle - because it's Jerry. He stops and faces his girl-
friend - Joe.
(rubbing his ankle)
How can they walk on these things?
How do they keep their balance?
Must be the way their weight is distributed.
As they proceed along the platform, a gust of wind sends
their skirts billowing. Jerry stops again and pulls his skirt
And it's so drafty. They must be catching
colds all the time.
(urging him on)
Quit stalling. We'll miss the train.
I feel so naked. Like everybody's looking at me.
With those legs? Are you crazy?
They are now approaching the Pullman car reserved for the
girls' orchestra. Girl musicians, with instruments and
luggage, are boarding the car, supervised by Sweet Sue and
(stopping in his tracks)
It's no use. We'll never get away with it, Joe.
The name is Josephine. And it was your
idea in the first place.
Just then, a member of the girls' band comes hurrying past
them, carrying a valise and ukulele case. Her name is
SUGAR. What can we say about Sugar, except that she is
the dream girl of every red-blooded American male who
ever read College Humor? As she undulates past them,
Jerry looks after her with dismay.
Who are we kidding? Look at that - look how
she moves - it's like jello on springs - they
must have some sort of a built-in motor.
I tell you it's a whole different sex.
What are you afraid of? Nobody's asking you
to have a baby. This is just to get out of town.
The minute we hit Florida, we'll blow this set-up.
This time I'm not going to let you talk me
into something that...
A newsboy approaches along the platform, peddling his papers.
Extra! Extra! Seven Slaughtered in North
Side Garage! Fear Blood Aftermath!
(to Joe, promptly)
You talked me into it! Come on, Josephine.
They hurry toward the Pullman car, imitating the jello-on-
springs movement as well as they can.
At the Pullman car, Sue and Bienstock are checking in the
girl musicians as they are boarding.
Hi, Mary Lou - Rosella - Okay, Dolores,
get a move on - How's your back, Olga?
Clarinet - drums - trumpet - trombone -
Joe and Jerry come mincing up. (NOTE: From here on in,
the two will speak with girls' voices whenever the situation
calls for it.)
Well, here we are.
You two from the Poliakoff Agency?
Yes, we're the new girls.
This is our manager, Mr. Bienstock.
I'm Sweet Sue.
My name is Josephine.
And I'm Daphne.
This is completely out of left field. Joe throws him a sharp
look. Jerry smiles back brightly.
Saxophone, bass - Am I glad to see you girls.
You saved our lives.
Likewise, I'm sure.
Where did you girls play before?
Oh - here and there - and around.
We spent three years at the Sheboygan
Conservatory of Music.
From OFF comes the voice of the Conductor: "All aboard!"
You're in Berths 7 and 7A.
(his idea of a lady)
Thank you ever so.
It's entirely mutual.
Joe has already boarded the car. As Jerry starts up the
steps, he stumbles. Bienstock helps him up, with a little pat
on the behind.
Joe jerks him up into the vestibule before this nonsense gets
out of hand.
(takes off glasses,
puts them in pocket)
Looks like Poliakoff came through with
a couple of real ladies.
You better tell the other girls to
watch their language.
She and Bienstock mount the steps of the Pullman. The
porter picks up the yellow footstep, hops aboard as the
train starts moving.
16. INT. PULLMAN CAR - NIGHT. 16.
As Joe and Jerry come in from the vestibule, Joe grabs
Jerry, holds him against the baggage rack.
(an angry whisper)
I never did like the name Geraldine.
As Sue and Bienstock appear from the vestibule, Joe lets go
of Jerry, and they move down the aisle into the Pullman car
The girl musicians are all there, except for Sugar. They are
removing their coats, settling themselves in their seats,
putting away their instruments and baggage. They are all
blonde, they are young, and most of them are pretty. They
look like a band of angels - but don't you believe it.
(the good neighbor)
Hello, everybody. I'm the bass fiddle.
Just call me Daphne.
I'm Josephine. Sax.
There is a slew of general hellos.
Welcome to No Man's Land.
You'll be sor-ry!
Take your corsets off and spread out.
Oh, I never wear one.
Don't you bulge?
Oh, no. I have the most divine little
seamstress that comes in once a month -
and my dear, she's so inexpensive -
Come on, Daphne.
Say, kids, have you heard the one about the
girl tuba player that was stranded on a
desert island with a one-legged jockey?
No --- how does it go?
Now cut that out, girls-none of that rough talk.
(as Joe and Jerry move off)
They went to a conservatory.
There is a general horse-laugh from the girls. Joe and Jerry
have now reached their seats, and are taking off their
(in a delighted whisper)
How about that talent? This is like
falling into a tub of butter.
Watch it, Daphne!
When I was a kid, I used to have a dream -
I was locked up in this pastry shop overnight -
with all kinds of goodies around - jelly rolls
and mocha eclairs and sponge cake and
Boston cream pie and cherry tarts -
Listen, stupe - no butter and no pastry.
We're on a diet!
Jerry starts to hang his coat across a cord running above
Not there - that's the emergency brake.
Now you've done it!
Tore off one of my chests.
You'd better go fix it.
You better come help me.
Jerry leads the way toward the rest rooms, which are just
beyond their seat. Instinctively he heads for the one
marked MEN. Joe grabs him, steers him back toward the
one marked WOMEN.
This way, Daphne.
(clasping his chest
Now you tore the other one.
Joe opens the curtain, propels him inside.
17. INT. WOMEN'S LOUNGE. 17.
There is another customer there - Sugar. She has one leg
up on the leather settee, her skirt is slightly raised, and she
is about to remove a small silver flask tucked under her
garter. As Jerry and Joe come in, she guiltily pulls her skirt
(arms folded across chest)
That's all right. I was afraid it was Sweet Sue.
You won't tell anybody, will you?
(taking the flask out
and unscrewing the cap)
If they catch me once more,
they'll boot me out of the band.
(pours a drink into a
You the replacement for the bass and the sax?
That's us. I'm Daphne - and this is Josephine.
I'm Sugar Cane.
I changed it. It used to be Sugar Kowalczyk.
Yes. I come from a very musical family.
My mother is a piano teacher and my
father was a conductor.
Where did he conduct?
On the Baltimore and Ohio.
I play the ukulele. And I sing too.
She sings, too.
I don't really have much of a voice - but then
it's not much of a band, either. I'm only
with 'em because I'm running away.
Running away? From what?
Don't get me started on that.
Want a drink? It's bourbon.
As Jerry reaches for it, his bosom starts to slip again, and
he quickly refolds his arms.
We'll take a rain check.
(downs cupful of bourbon)
I don't want you to think that I'm a drinker.
I can stop any time I want to - only I don't
want to. Especially when I'm blue.
All the girls drink - but I'm the one that
gets caught. That's the story of my life.
I always get the fuzzy end of the lollipop.
She has screwed the cap back on the flask, and now slips it
under her garter.
Are my seams straight?
(examining her legs)
See you around, girls.
She waves and exits into the Pullman car.
We been playing with the wrong bands.
How about the shape of that liquor cabinet?
Joe spins him around, and unbuttoning the back of his
dress, starts to fix the slipped brassiere.
Forget it. One false move, and they'll toss us
off the train - there'll be the police, and
the papers, and the mob in Chicago...
Boy, would I like to borrow a cup of that Sugar.
(whirling him around,
grabbing the front
of his dress)
Look - no butter, no pastry, and no Sugar!
(looking down at
his chest, pathetically)
You tore it again!
18. EXT. LOCOMOTIVE WHEELS - NIGHT. 18.
The wheels are pounding along the track, accompanied by a
spirited rendition of RUNNING WILD.
19. INT. PULLMAN CAR - NIGHT. 19.
At one end of the car, Sweet Sue and her Society
Syncopators are beating out RUNNING WILD. It is a special
rehearsal to break in the two new girls, Josephine and
Daphne. The other girls, including Sugar on the ukulele, are
really swinging. But Joe and Jerry are playing in a dainty
ultra-refined manner, so as not to give themselves away.
Sue, who is conducting from the aisle, raps her baton
against a seat. The girls stop playing.
(to Joe and Jerry)
Hey, Sheboygan - you two - what was
your last job - playing square dances?
No - funerals.
Would you mind rejoining the living?
Goose it up a little.
Sue is about to give the downbeat, when her eyes fall on
Jerry's bass fiddle. There is a neat row of bullet holes
across the face of the instrument.
How did those holes get there?
Oh - those. I don't know.
We got it second-hand.
All right - lets take it from the top.
And put a little heat under it, will you?
She brings the baton down, and the girls start playing
again. This time Joe and Jerry give it both knees - Joe
going for a wild ride on the sax, and Jerry slapping and
twirling the bass like a girl possessed. Sue cocks her
eyebrows, amazed by the hepness of the two conservatory
Now it is time for Sugar's solo. She steps forward with the
ukulele, and starts to sing a hot chorus of RUNNING WILD.
Holding on to the bull-fiddle, Jerry leans forward to get a
better view of Sugar's backfield in motion.
As Sugar shimmies through the number, the hidden flask
slips out from under her garter, and falls to the floor with a
clank. She freezes. Sue raps her baton furiously against
the seat, stopping the music.
Bienstock, with his glasses on, is sitting father back in the
car reading Variety. He leaps up.
Yes, Sue? What is it?
(pointing at flask)
I thought I made it clear I don't want any
drinking in this outfit.
(picking up flask)
All right, girls. Who does this belong to?
Come on, now. Speak up.
(still no answer;
his eyes fall on Sugar,
who stands there frozen)
Sugar, I warned you!
Please, Mr. Bienstock -
This is the last straw. In Kansas City you
were smuggling liquor in a shampoo bottle.
Before that I caught you with a pint in your
Jerry has squeezed himself between the girls, and steps forward.
Pardon me, Mr. Bienstock - can I have my
(hands it to him,
turns back to Sugar)
Pack your things, and the next station
we come to -
(he does a take,
turns to Jerry)
Uh-huh. Just a little bourbon.
He starts to slip it down the neck of his dress.
Give me that!
He grabs the flask. Sugar is looking at Jerry gratefully. Joe
glares at Jerry, ready to hit him with the saxophone.
(to Joe and Jerry; dryly)
Didn't you girls say you went to a conservatory?
Yes. For a whole year.
I thought you said three years.
We got time off for good behavior.
There are two things I will not put up with
during working hours. One is liquor -
and the other one is men.
(a blinking angel)
Oh, you don't have to worry about that.
We would be caught dead with men. Those
rough, hairy beasts with eight hands -
(looking at Bienstock)
They all want just one thing from a girl.
(drawing himself up)
I beg your pardon.
All right, girls - from the top again.
Once more the Society Syncopators wade into RUNNING
WILD. Sugar, strumming the ukulele, smiles warmly at
Daphne, a true blue pal; Daphne smiles back, his mouth
watering a little, like a kid in a pastry shop.
20. EXT. LOCOMOTIVE WHEELS - NIGHT. 20.
The wheels are still pounding away - but there's no more
21. INT. PULLMAN CAR - NIGHT. 21.
The berths are made up, and the girls are getting ready for
bed. Joe, in pajamas, is standing in the aisle beside Lower
7, draping his dress neatly on a hanger. Jerry, in a
nightgown, is lying in Upper 7 with the curtains open,
watching the broads go by. Girls in negligees, in pajamas,
in nightgowns, are scurrying with their wash-kits in and out
of the ladies' room, climbing into lowers and uppers.
(the young sultan)
Good night, Mary Lou - Dolores dear,
sleep tight - Nighty-night, Emily.
(climbing into an upper)
How about that toodle-oo?
Steady, boy. Just keep telling yourself
you're a girl.
I'm a girl. I'm a girl. I'm a girl -
Rosella and Olga come bouncing past from the ladies' room.
Get a load of that rhythm section.
(a glare from Joe)
I'm a girl. I'm a girl. I'm a girl.
His eyes stray down the aisle. In Upper 2, Sugar is getting
ready for bed. All Jerry can see is her legs dangling out of
the berth, as she removes her stockings. But that's all the
identification Jerry needs.
(calling down the aisle)
Good night, Sugar.
(sticking her head out)
Good night, honey.
(to Joe; enraptured)
Honey - she called me honey.
Without a word, Joe takes the ladder leaning against Jerry's
berth, slides it under the lower.
What are you doing?
I just want to make sure that honey stays
in the hive. There'll be no buzzing around
But suppose I got to go - like for a drink
But suppose I lose? Suppose it's an emergency?
(points to cord running
across the back of
Then pull the emergency brake!
Sitting on the edge of Lower 1, ready for bed, is Sue. She is
looking off intently toward Joe and Jerry, flipping a
stomach pill in one hand and holding a paper cup of water
in the other. She turns to Bienstock, who is across the aisle
in Lower 2, just buttoning his pajama tops.
You know, Bienstock, there's something funny
about those two new girls.
Funny? In what way?
I don't know - but I can feel it right here.
That's one good thing about ulcers - it's like
a burglar alarm going off inside you.
She swallows the pill, washes it down with water.
All right, Sue. You watch your ulcers -
I'll watch those two.
(rises, claps his hands)
Okay. Everybody settle down and go to bed.
Good night, girls.
The last few girls climb into their births, lights are being
extinguished, curtains are being closed.
Joe, standing outside Berth 7, starts to close the curtains of
Good night, Daphne.
Good night, Josephine.
Joe closes the curtains. Jerry, in the upper, extinguishes the
light. He settles himself back on the pillow, closes his eyes.
(muttering to himself)
I'm a girl - I'm a girl - I wish I were dead -
I'm a girl - I'm a girl -
22. EXT. LOCOMOTIVE WHEELS - NIGHT. 22.
The wheels are pounding along the track in the rhythm of
Jerry's 'I'm a girl, I'm a girl.'
23. INT. PULLMAN CAR - NIGHT. 23.
There are just a few dim lights illuminating the aisle.
Everybody seems to be asleep, all is quiet - except for
Bienstock's steady snoring in Lower 2.
After a moment, the curtains of Upper 2 open, and Sugar
peeks out cautiously. She is wearing a negligee over her
nightie. Seeing that all is clear, she slips quietly down the
ladder, and tiptoes down the aisle.
She arrives at Berth 7, and finding no ladder there, takes
one from across the aisle, leans it against Jerry's berth, and
Jerry is asleep in Upper 7, as the curtains part and Sugar
She taps his shoulder. Jerry sits bolt upright, hits his head
against the top of the berth.
Oh - Sugar!
I wanted to thank you for covering for me.
You're a real pal.
It's nothing. I just think us girls should
If it hadn't been for you, they would have
kicked me off the train. I'd be out there in the
middle of nowhere, sitting on my ukulele.
It must be freezing outside. When I
think of you - and your poor ukulele -
If there's anything I can do for you -
Oh, I can think of a million things -
Sugar, looking off, sees something in the aisle, quickly
climbs into the berth beside Jerry.
And that's one of them.
(finger to her lips)
Sssh. Sweet Sue.
She peers through the slit in the curtains.
Sue, in a wrapper, is padding sleepily down the aisle toward
the ladies' room.
Back in Upper 7, Sugar turns conspiratorially to Jerry.
I don't want her to know we're in cahoots.
We won't tell anybody - not even Josephine.
I'd better stay here till she goes back to sleep.
Stay as long as you'd like.
(putting her legs
under the covers)
I'm not crowding you, am I?
No. It's nice and cozy.
When I was a little girl, on cold nights like this,
I used to crawl into bed with my sister. We'd
cuddle up under the covers, and pretend we
were lost in a dark cave, and were trying to
find out way out.
(mopping his brow)
(putting a hand on
Why you poor thing - you're trembling
And your head is hot.
(her feet touching his
under the cover)
And you've got cold feet.
(a wan smile)
Isn't that ridiculous?
Let me warm them a little.
(rubbing her feet
There - isn't that better?
Jerry has turned his head away, and is now mumbling to
I'm a girl, I'm a girl, I'm a girl -
What did you say?
I'm a very sick girl.
Maybe I'd better go before I catch something.
(holding her by the arm)
I'm not that sick.
I have a very low resistance.
Look, Sugar, if you feel you're coming down
with something, the best thing is
a shot of whiskey.
You got some?
I know where to get some.
He climbs across her, and opening the curtains, leans all
the way over the edge of the upper berth and down toward
the berth below.
In Lower 7, Joe is asleep, facing the window. The curtains
part, and Jerry, dangling upside down, reaches toward the
suitcase at the foot of the berth. He raises the lid of the
suitcase, rummages around till he finds a bottle of bourbon.
As he takes it out, Joe stirs. Jerry freezes, raises the bottle
up, ready to conk Joe if he wakes up. Joe turns over, settles
back to sleep, and Jerry swings his body through the
Jerry, the bottle clutched in his hand, is hanging upside
down, while Sugar in the upper berth holds on to his legs.
As Jerry tries to raise himself back up, he slips out of
Sugar's grasp, and sprawls in the aisle. He lies absolutely
still, afraid that Joe may have heard him.
(a solicitous whisper)
You all right?
How's the bottle?
As he hands it up to her, the curtains of Upper 4 part, and
Dolores, who has been awakened by the fall, peeks out.
You better get some cups.
Jerry pads over to the water fountain beside the rest rooms.
He punches out a couple of paper cups from a dispense, flits
back to Berth 7, and scurries up the ladder.
Dolores watches all this with great interest.
Back in Upper 7, Sugar has already opened the bottle.
the paper cups)
I tell you - this is the only way to travel.
You better put on the lights.
I can't see what I'm doing.
No - no lights. We don't want anyone
to know we're having a party.
I may spill something.
(shifting into high)
So spill it. Spills, thrills, laughs, games -
this may even turn out to be a surprise party.
What's the surprise?
Uh-uh. Not yet.
We better have a drink first.
(handing him cup)
Here. This'll put hair on your chest.
No fair guessing.
They drink. The curtains open and Dolores, standing on the
ladder outside, sticks her head in.
This a private clambake,
or can anybody join?
It's private. Go away.
Say, Dolores - you still got that
bottle of vermouth?
Who needs vermouth?
We have some bourbon -
lets make Manhattans.
(starts down the ladder)
Manhattans? This time of night?
(calling after Dolores)
And bring the cocktail shaker.
Oh, Sugar. You're going to
spoil my surprise.
Dolores has crossed the aisle, and getting a foot up on
Lower 4, reaches up into her berth for the vermouth. The
curtains of Lower 4 open, and Mary Lou sticks her head out.
Party in Upper 7.
I got some cheese and crackers.
And get a corkscrew.
Mary Lou gets out of her berth, steps across to Lower 3,
wakes up Rosella.
Party in Upper 7. Got a corkscrew?
No. But Stella has.
Get some cups.
Rosella hurries toward the water fountain, while Mary Lou
gets Stella and the corkscrew out of bed. Rapidly, the whole
Pullman car springs into action. As silent as mice, the girls
slip out of their berths, armed with various provisions.
Their nighties billowing they scuttle down the aisle and up
the ladder into Upper 7.
In Upper 7, the party is building rapidly, as the mice pile in
with their contributions.
Here's the vermouth.
I brought some crackers and cheese.
Will ten cups be enough?
Can you use a bottle of Southern Comfort?
Jerry is trying vainly to stem the invasion of gatecrashers.
Please, girls - this is a private party -
a party for two - go away, no more room -
ssh, the neighbors downstairs - you'll
wake up Josephine - please, no crackers
in bed - go someplace else, form your own
party - be careful with that corkscrew!
Sugar - where are you, Sugar?
Sugar is greeting Olga, who has climbed into the berth
clutching a hot water bottle.
Here's the cocktail shaker.
Sugar starts measuring bourbon and vermouth into it.
Easy on the vermouth.
If we only had some ice -
Pass the peanut butter.
Anybody for salami?
Thirteen girls in a berth - that's bad luck!
Twelve of you will have to get out! ...
Please, girls, no more food!
I'll have ants in the morning!
In Lower 7, Joe is stirring restlessly, while subdued noises
float down from the party upstairs. The curtains part and
Emily sticks her head in and shakes Joe.
Hey - you got any maraschino cherries
She disappears. Joe starts to close his eyes, then sits up
with a jolt.
Slowly he becomes aware of the sounds of revelry up above.
His eyes wide as he sees a girl's bare leg through the
curtains. The girl steps on the edge of his berth, hoists
herself into the upper. Joe throws open the curtains, sees
several other pairs of girls' legs dangling down from the
upper, and still more legs climbing up the ladder.
Frantically, Joe jumps out of his birth. He is confronted by
a sight which knocks into a cocked hat the principle that
two bodies cannot occupy the same space at the same time.
In a triumph of engineering, fourteen girls have squeezed
themselves into Upper 7 - or to be exact, thirteen girls and
Daphne - not to mention the bourbon, the vermouth, the
Southern Comfort, the paper cups, the corkscrew, the hot
water bottle, the crackers and cheese, and the salami.
There is a seething tangle of arms and legs and blonde
heads - like a snake pit at feeding time.
What's going on here?
(trying to find a
needle in the haystack)
Daphne - Daphne -
(sticking his head out)
It's not my fault. I didn't invite them.
Break it up, girls! Daphne!
Come on, help me!
He starts to tug at odd arms and legs.
Jerry pulls himself back into the berth.
All right, girls. You heard Josephine.
Sugar starts to back out of the berth.
Not you, Sugar.
I'm just going to get some ice.
Joe has slipped on his robe as Sugar comes backing out of
the berth and down the ladder.
Out, out! That's right, Sugar.
Now the rest of you.
As Sugar heads for the water fountain, Joe starts to pull the
other girls out.
Aw, don't be a flat tire.
Have a Manhattan.
Come on in. There's lots of room
in the back.
Ssh. Pipe down. We'll all be fired.
Jerry sticks his head out, looks after Sugar.
Sugar - don't you leave me here alone, Sugar.
Sugar has pried open the panel under the water fountain,
and reaching inside, drags out a huge cake of ice. Not quite
knowing what to do with it, she thrusts it into Joe's hands,
and turns quickly to the pile of instruments stashed
between some empty seats.
(unaware of the cake of
ice in his hands)
Come on, kids. Give up, will you?
The party's over. Everybody go home.
(suddenly notices the ice)
By this time, Sugar has unscrewed a cymbal from the drum,
and is holding the drummer's metal brush.
(beckoning to Joe)
Josephine, over here. Before it melts.
She heads for the women's lounge. Joe looks at her, looks
at the ice, and not knowing what else to do with it, follows
her through the curtains.
24. INT. WOMEN'S LOUNGE - NIGHT. 24.
Sugar comes in, followed by Josephine with the cake of ice.
(pointing to sunken
Put it here.
(dropping the ice
in the bowl)
Sugar, you're going to get yourself
into a lot of trouble.
Better keep a lookout.
Joe crosses to the curtain, peers out. Sugar, using the
handle of the metal brush, starts to chop ice into the
If Bienstock catches you again -
What's the matter with you, anyway?
I'm not very bright, I guess.
I wouldn't say that. Careless, maybe.
No, just dumb. If I had any brains,
I wouldn't be on this crummy train
with this crummy girls' band.
Then why did you take this job?
I used to sing with male bands.
But I can't afford it any more.
Have you ever been with a male band?
That's what I'm running away from.
I worked with six different ones in the
last two years. Oh, brother!
You can't trust those guys.
I can't trust myself. The moment I'd
start with a new band - bingo!
You see, I have this thing about
Especially tenor sax. I don't know what
it is, but they just curdle me. All they
have to do is play eight bars of
"Come to Me My Melancholy Baby" -
and my spine turns to custard, and I
get goose-pimply all over - and I
come to them.
(hitting her head)
You know - I play tenor sax.
But you're a girl, thank goodness.
(his throat drying up)
That's why I joined this band.
Safety first. Anything to get away
from those bums.
(hacking the ice
You don't know what they're like.
You fall for them and you love 'em -
you think it's going to be the biggest
thing since the Graf Zeppelin - and
the next thing you know they're
borrowing money from you and
spending it on other dames and
betting on the horses -
You don't say?
Then one morning you wake up and
the saxophone is gone and the guy is
gone, and all that's left behind is
a pair of old socks and a tube of
toothpaste, all squeezed out.
So you pull yourself together and you
go on to the next job, and the next
saxophone player, and it's the same
thing all over again. See what
I mean? - not very bright.
(looking her over)
Brains aren't everything.
I can tell you one thing - it's not
going to happen to me again. Ever.
I'm tired of getting the fuzzy end of
Olga bursts in through the curtains.
Ice! What's keeping the ice?
The natives are getting restless.
Joe hands her the cymbal piled with ice.
How about a couple of drinks for us?
She scoots out. Joe and Sugar are alone again.
You know I'm going to be twenty-five
That's a quarter of a century.
Makes a girl think.
About the future. You know - like
a husband? That's why I'm glad
we're going to Florida.
What's in Florida?
Millionaires. Flocks of them. They all
go south for the winter. Like birds.
Going to catch yourself a rich bird?
Oh, I don't care how rich he is -
as long as he has a yacht and his own
private railroad car and his own
Maybe you'll meet one too, Josephine.
Yeah. With money like Rockefeller, and
shoulders like Johnny Weismuller -
I want mine to wear glasses.
Men who wear glasses are so much more
gentle and sweet and helpless.
Haven't you ever noticed?
Well, now that you've mentioned it -
They get those weak eyes from reading -
you know, all those long columns of
tiny figures in the Wall Street Journal.
Olga is back again, carrying two Manhattans in paper cups
on the cymbal. She hands them the drinks, starts to refill
the cymbal with ice.
That bass fiddle - wow! She sure knows
how to throw a party!
She dashes out. Joe looks after her, worriedly.
(lifting his cup)
I hope this time you wind up with
the sweet end of the lollipop.
They drink. Joe studies her like a cat studying a canary.
25. INT. PULLMAN CAR - NIGHT. 25.
Olga is climbing up on the ladder to Upper 7 with the new
supply of ice in the cymbal. The party is now really
winging. Amidst the hushed hilarity, the hot water bottle is
being passed around, paper cups and crackers are flying,
some of the girls are smoking. Despite the absence of
Sugar, Jerry is enjoying himself hugely. Dolores has the
floor - finishing the joke that Bienstock interrupted earlier.
- so the one-legged jockey said -
(she breaks up in
What did he say?
The one-legged jockey said - 'Don't worry
about me, baby. I ride side-saddle.'
To Jerry, this is excrutiatingly comical. He puts his hand
over his mouth, trying to smother his wild laughter, starts
(Lady Daphne again)
I beg your pardon.
Another hiccup. And another.
Put some ice on her neck!
She takes a hunk of ice out of the cymbal, rubs it against
the back of Jerry's neck. Jerry leaps up with a squeal, and
the ice slides down into his nightgown. He squirms and
wiggles, crying and laughing and hiccuping.
Oooh! Aaah! It's cold! Owwww!
The girls try to fish the ice from inside his nightie, and
suddenly Jerry gets a new shock, worse than the ice. His
hiccups stop, his eyes widen in panic. His bosoms have torn
lose from their moorings again. He folds his arms over his
suddenly flat chest, to ward off exposure.
Cut it out, girls. Stop it.
Joe - Josephine - help!
Hey, she's ticklish!
With that, all the girls pounce on Jerry, start to tickle him.
Jerry flops around like a fish, screaming and laughing and
crying. In despair, his eyes fall on the emergency cord. He
makes a grab for the cord, pulls it.
26. EXT. LOCOMOTIVE WHEELS - NIGHT. 26.
The pounding wheels suddenly lock, and come to a jolting stop.
27. INT. PULLMAN CAR - NIGHT. 27.
The abrupt stop sends everybody in Upper 7 tumbling out
into the aisle.
28. INT. WOMEN'S LOUNGE - NIGHT. 28.
Sugar, thrown off balance, grabs on to Joe.
I mean - I'll see.
He sticks his head out through the curtains.
29. INT. PULLMAN CAR - NIGHT. 29.
The girls heaped in the aisle are extricating themselves and
scurrying back as fast as they can into their berths. Jerry
scrambles up the ladder into Upper 7, pulls the curtains,
just as the curtains of Lower 1 are flung open and Sue
emerges. She glances up the aisle, which is now empty and
What's going on around here?
Bienstock staggers sleepily out of Lower 2.
Are we in Florida?
At the entrance to the women's lounge, Sugar has joined Joe
and the two are peering through the curtains. The door of
the car opens, and the Conductor runs in angrily. The two
withdraw back into the lounge.
The Conductor joins Sue and Bienstock.
All right. Who pulled the emergency
brake? Who was it?
(bellowing at the
Come on, girls. Who was it?
Through the curtains of Upper 7, Jerry's head appears
I was it.
What's the big idea?
I'm sorry. I was having a nightmare.
Something I ate. I'm not at all well.
(holds out cocktail shaker)
See? Hot water bottle.
Musicians! The last time we had some
on the train, they started a wild, drunken
brawl - twelve of them in one berth!
Jerry clucks his tongue disapprovingly. The Conductor jerks
the emergency cord a couple of times, signaling the
engineer to start the train again.
30. EXT. LOCOMOTIVE WHEELS - NIGHT. 30.
The stalled wheels start to turn over and pick up speed.
31. OMITTED 31.
32. INT. PULLMAN CAR - NIGHT. 32.
The train is moving. Joe appears from the women's lounge,
signals to Sugar, who is behind him.
Okay, Sugar - all clear. You better
go back to bed.
I might as well stay in there.
I won't be able to sleep anyway.
Bienstock. He snores to beat the band.
We cut cards to see who sleeps over him,
and I always lose. Wouldn't you know?
Want to switch berths with me?
Would you mind terribly?
Not at all.
He leads her to Lower 7. The curtains of Upper 7 are
I can fall asleep anywhere, any time,
He takes his suitcase out, stashes it under the berth.
Good night, Sugar.
In Upper 7, Jerry is lying on his back with his eyes wide
open, listening intently. From OFF comes -
Good night, Josephine.
Jerry props himself up on one elbow, a smug grin of
anticipation on his face.
Sugar gets into Lower 7, closing the curtains. Joe proceeds
down the aisle, mounts the ladder to Upper 2.
In Upper 2, Joe closes the curtains, settles down to sleep. In
the berth below, Bienstock is snoring away. Unable to take
it, Joe clamps the spare pillow over his head.
In Upper 7, Jerry takes a long swig out of the hot water
bottle to get his courage up. Then he parts the curtains
cautiously, drops to the aisle. He leans toward the closed
curtains of Lower 7.
Joe - are you asleep, Joe?
In Lower 7, Sugar, her eyes closed, is drifting off to sleep.
Jerry, satisfied that Joe is asleep, pussyfoots down the aisle
to Berth 2. He listens for a second to Bienstock snoring,
climbs up the ladder to Upper 2.
In Upper 2, Joe lies facing the window. The curtains part
gingerly, and Jerry sticks his head in.
(a honeyed whisper)
Sugar - Sugar baby -
Joe opens his eyes wide, and is about to turn around, but
Jerry puts a restraining hand on his shoulder.
Sssh. Don't move. It's me - Daphne.
We don't want to wake up Bienstock.
He slips into the berth, and the curtains close behind him.
It's pretty dark now. Jerry stretches out on top of the
covers, addresses the back of Joe's head. Joe, a grim
expression on his face, is waiting to see how far Jerry will
the big moment)
You know what I promised you before -
that surprise - well, I better break it
to you gently. In the first place, I'm not
a natural blonde - as a matter of face,
there are all sorts of things about me
that are not natural - you see, my friend
and I - the reason we're on the train
with you girls - well, you know those
holes in the bull-fiddle - that wasn't
mice - what I'm trying to say is - my
name isn't really Daphne - it's Geraldine -
I mean, Jerry - and you know why
it's Jerry? - because I'm a boy!
He sweeps his blonde wig off. Joe, who's had enough,
makes a move to sit up, but Jerry pushes him back gently.
Don't scream, please. Don't spoil it -
it's too beautiful. just think of it,
you and I - same berth, opposite sexes -
male and female - he and she -
the moth and the flame -
(takes Joe's hand,
puts it on his heart)
Feel my heart - like a crazy drum.
(starts kissing Joe's hand)
I'm mad for you, Sugar.
What are we going to do about it?
Joe has had it. Wheeling around, he grabs Jerry by the
front of his nightgown, starts to shake him like a terrier
shaking a rat.
Sugar, what are you doing?
Don't get sore, baby -
Beginning to realize something may be wrong, Jerry
reaches up and switches on the light. There is something
(holding Jerry with one
hand, cocking the other)
Male and female - the moth and the
flame - I ought to slug you!
(slapping wig back
on his head)
You wouldn't hit a girl, would you?
33. EXT. SEMINOLE-RITZ HOTEL - DAY. 33.
The sprawling gingerbread structure basks in the warm
Florida sun, fanned by towering palm trees, and lulled by
waves breaking lazily on the exclusive beach frontage.
Wintertime and the livin' is easy, fish are jumpin' and the
market is high.
The hotel bus chugs up the curved driveway toward the
main entrance, hauling the Society Syncopators fromt he
station. The rear of the bus is loaded with luggage and
instruments. From inside comes the SOUND of girls' voices,
singing DOWN AMONG THE SHELTERING PALMS.
On the hotel veranda, creaking in their rocking chairs, are
a dozen elderly gentlemen. They are all in resort clothes -
white flannels, striped flannels, knickers, Panama hats,
white linen caps - and they are all reading the Wall Street
Journal. Their combined age must be about a thousand
years, and their combined bank balance just about as many
millions. As they hear the bus drawing up, they stop
rocking, and slowly lower their Wall Street Journals. They
are all wearing sunglasses, and leaning forward, they peer
through them at the new arrivals.
In the driveway, the girls are climbing out of the bus,
luggage and instruments are being unloaded. Jerry helps
Sugar down, while Joe gets their instruments out of the pile.
He hands the bull-fiddle case to Jerry, the ukulele case to
(taking the ukulele
I'll carry the instruments.
Thank you, Daphne.
(handing Jerry the
Thank you, Daphne.
Isn't she a sweetheart?
He leads her toward the entrance. Jerry, loaded down with
bass fiddle, ukulele and sax, glares after them - angrily,
then follows them, balancing precariously on his high heels.
On the veranda, the twelve rich dodos remove their
sunglasses to get a better look at the girls. The one nearest
to the steps is OSGOOD FIELDING III.
He is a bit younger than the others, but that still puts him
in his late fifties. He wears white plus-fours, argyle socks,
two-toned shoes, and a gleam in his eye. He tips his
Panama hat rakishly as the girl musicians mount the steps.
Joe and Sugar come up the steps. Joe nudges her, directing
her attention to the old crooks.
Well, there they are - more millionaires
than you can shake a stick at.
I'll bet there isn't one of them
Seventy-five. That's three-quarters
of a century. Makes a girl think.
Yeah, I hope they brought their
As they pass Osgood Fielding III and start into the lobby, he
tips his Panama jauntily. Then he turns to inspect the next
The next girl is Jerry, struggling up the steps, loaded with
bass fiddle, saxophone and ukulele. He trips on the top
steps, loses one of his shoes. Osgood jumps up gallantly.
Just a moment, miss -
(picks up shoe)
(extending his foot
(slipping shoe on)
I am Osgood Fielding the Third.
I am Cinderella the Second.
He starts to pull away, but Osgood holds on to his ankle.
If there is one thing I admire, it's a girl
with a shapely ankle.
Me too. Bye now.
Let me carry one of the instruments.
(loading him up with
all the instruments)
Aren't you a sweetheart?
He starts into the lobby, Osgood struggling after him with
34. INT. LOBBY OF THE SEMINOLE-RITZ - DAY. 34.
The lobby is very resort-y - potted palms, overhead fans,
and a heavy undergrowth of wicker furniture. Osgood,
balancing the instruments, follows Jerry in.
It certainly is delightful to have
some young blood around here.
Personally, I'm Type O.
You know, I've always been
fascinated by show business.
You don't say.
Yes, indeed. It's cost my family quite
a bit of money.
You invest in shows?
No - it's showgirls. I've been
married seven or eight times.
You're not sure?
Mama is keeping score. Frankly, she's
getting rather annoyed with me
I'm not surprised.
So this year, when George White's
Scandals opened, she packed me off to
Florida. Right now she thinks I'm
out there on my yacht - deep-sea fishing.
Well, pull in your reel, Mr. Fielding.
You're barking up the wrong fish.
They come up to the elevator. The doors are just closing on
a load of girl musicians going up.
If I promise not to be a naughty boy -
how about dinner tonight?
Sorry. I'll be on the bandstand.
Oh, of course. which of these instruments
do you play?
Fascinating. Do you use a bow or
do you just pluck it?
Most of the time I slap it.
You must be quite a girl.
My last wife was an acrobatic dancer -
you know, sort of a contortionist -
she could smoke a cigarette while
holding it between her toes - Zowie! -
but Mama broke it up.
She doesn't approve of girls who smoke.
The elevator has come down again, and the doors open.
(reaching for the
Goodbye, Mr. Fielding.
This is where I get off.
(the naughty boy)
Oh, you don't get off that easy.
He eases her into the elevator, follows with the instruments.
All right, driver. Once around the park.
Slowly. And keep your eyes on the road.
The door closes. CAMERA PANS UP to the floor indicator.
The arrow moves smoothly past the second floor, then stops
abruptly, jiggles violently, starts down again. CAMERA
PANS DOWN. the elevator door opens.
What kind of girl do you think I am,
He slaps Osgood's face, takes the instruments from him.
Please. It won't happen again.
No, thank you. I'll walk.
He stalks out of the elevator with the instruments, starts
indignantly up the stairs. Osgood stands holding his cheek,
looking after him enraptured.
35. INT. FOURTH FLOOR CORRIDOR - DAY. 35.
This is the floor on which the girls are billeted. Sugar, Joe
and the other Society Syncopators are gathered around
Bienstock and Sue, while bellhops are bringing up the
(holding up a list)
All right, girls - here are your
(tapping his pockets)
My glasses - where are my glasses?
As he continues to search, Sue takes the list from him,
starts to read it off.
Olga and Mary Lou in 412 - and Mary Lou,
keep your kimono buttoned when you ring
for room service - Josephine and Daphne
in 413 - Dolores and Sugar in 414 -
Me and Sugar?
What did you expect - a one-legged jockey?
Joe and Sugar are moving on toward their rooms.
I wish they'd put us in the same room.
So do I. But don't worry - we'll be
seeing a lot of each other.
They reach the door of 414, and Sugar opens it.
414 - that's the same room number
I had in Cincinnati - my last time
around with a male band.
What a heel he was.
What else? And was I ever crazy about him.
Two in the morning, he sent me down for
knackwurst and potato salad - they were
out of potato salad, so I brought coleslaw -
so he threw it right in my face.
Forget it, Sugar, will you? Forget about
saxophone players. You're going to meet
a millionaire - a young one.
What makes you so sure?
Just my feminine intuition.
She smiles gratefully at him as she enters 414. Joe crosses
to the open door of 413, goes in.
36. INT. ROOM 413 - DAY. 36.
It's a small room, twin-beds, more wicker, adjoining
bathroom. Outside the French windows is a balcony, giving
on the ocean.
As Joe comes in, a BELLHOP is just setting down some
suitcases - two of them are Joe's and Jerry's, the third is a
somewhat more elegant model in brown cloth with a white
stripe down the middle and the initials B.B. The Bellhop, a
fresh punk of seventeen, turns to Joe.
Are these your bags?
Yes. And that one, too.
I suppose you want a tip?
Forget it, doll. After all, you work here -
I work here - and believe you me, it's
nice to have you with the organization.
(the young Clark Gable)
Listen, doll - what time do you
get off tonight?
Because I'm working the night shift - and
I got a bottle of gin stashed away - and
as soon as there's a lull -
Aren't you a little too young for that, sonny?
Wanna see my driver's license?
Get lost, will you?
That's the way I like 'em - big and sassy.
(at the door)
And get rid of your roommate.
He pulls out his bow tie, which is on an elastic, lets in snap
back like an exclamation point. Joe looks after him grimly,
then his eyes fall on the suitcase with the stripe, and he
shoves it quickly under the bed. The door opens again, and
Joe whirls around. Jerry comes staggering in breathlessly
with the instruments, kicks the door shut with his foot.
Why, that dirty old man!
He throws the instruments disgustedly on one of the beds.
I got pinched in the elevator.
Well, now you know how the other half lives.
And I'm not even pretty.
They don't care - just as long as you
wear skirts. It's like waving a red flat
in front of a bull.
I'm tired of being a flag. I want to be a
bull again. Lets get out of here, Joe.
You promised - the minute we hit Florida,
we were going to beat it.
How can we? We're broke.
We can get a job with another band.
A male band.
Listen, stupid - right now Spats Colombo
and his chums are looking for us in every
male band in the country.
But this is so humiliating.
So you got pinched in the elevator.
So what? Would you rather be
picking lead out of your navel?
All right, all right!
(rips off his hat and wig,
tosses them on the bed)
But how long can we keep this up?
What's the beef? We're sitting pretty.
We get room and board - we get paid
every week - there's the palm trees
and the flying fish -
What are you giving me with the flying fish?
I know why you want to stick around -
you're after Sugar.
Me? After Sugar?
I watched you two on the bus - lovey-dovey -
whispering and giggling and borrowing
each other's lipstick -
What are you talking about? Sugar and
me, we're just like sisters.
Yeah? Well, I'm your fairy godmother -
and I'm keeping an eye on you.
There is a KNOCK on the door.
Are you decent?
Joe pulls Jerry's wig out of the hat, jams it down his head.
Bienstock comes in.
You girls have seen a brown bag with a
white stripe and my initials?
My suitcase - with all my resort clothes.
No, we haven't.
Can't understand it. First my glasses
disappear - then one of my suitcases -
Sugar appears in the doorway behind him.
Where's my ukulele?
- now a ukulele? There must be a
sneak thief around here.
He goes out, shaking his head in puzzlement.
Here you are, Sugar.
A bunch of us girls are going for a swim.
Want to come along?
Wait a minute, Daphne. You haven't got
a bathing suit.
She doesn't need one. I don't have one either.
See? She doesn't have one either -
We'll rent some at the bathhouse.
How about you, Josephine?
No, thanks. I'd rather stay in and
soak in a hot tub.
He steps into the bathroom, turns on the faucet.
Yeah - let her soak. Come on.
Don't get burned, Daphne.
Oh, I have some suntan lotion.
She'll rub it on me - and I'll rub it on her -
and we'll rub it on each other - bye.
He ushers Sugar out in high spirits. Joe looks after them,
then quickly locks the hall door, and stepping into the
bathroom, turns off the water. He hurries over to the bed,
slides out Bienstock's suitcase, opens it. It's crammed full
of resort clothes - and Joe takes out a blazer, flannel pants,
and a yachting cap, which he perches on his head. Then he
lifts his skirt above his knee, pulls out Bienstock's glasses
from under his garter. He puts them on, peers around
myopically. His enlarged eyes are grotesque - but then
again, so is his scheme.
37. EXT. BEACH - DAY. 37.
To the accompaniment of BY THE BEAUTIFUL SEA, several
girls from the band, in bathing suits and caps, are running
into the surf. The other girls are already in the water,
splashing around and frolicking like a school of playful
porpoises. There is no sign of Jerry. Sugar, standing up to
her waist in water, suddenly lets out a startled SQUEAL,
slaps the surface of the water behind her.
Daphne! Cut that out!
Jerry comes diving up, spouting water like a dolphin. He is
wearing a girls' knitted bathing suit with a short skirt, and
a rubber cap.
What do you think you're doing?
Just a little trick I picked up in the elevator.
A good-sized wave comes rolling in.
Oooh. Here comes a big one.
He grabs Sugar, holding on to her tightly. The wave breaks
over them, sweeps them off their feet.
Strolling casually along the beach is Joe. He is wearing
Bienstock's blazer (crest and eight gold buttons), flannel
slacks (bell-bottom), a silk scarf, a yachting cap, and the
glasses (which blur his vision considerably). In his hand he
carries a rolled-up copy of the Wall Street Journal. He looks
off toward the ocean.
The girls are scampering out of the water, and some of
them start to toss a beach ball around. Sugar and Jerry
come running up to the beach hand in hand. They take
their caps off, and Sugar puts on a short terry-cloth jacket.
Jerry jumps around on one foot, his head tilted, shaking the
water out of his ear, then starts to rub himself off with a
You know, Daphne - I had no idea
you were such a big girl.
You should have seen me before
I went on a diet.
I mean, your shoulders - and your arms -
That's from carrying around the bull fiddle.
But there's one thing I envy you for.
You're so flat-chested. Clothes hang
so much better on you than they do on me.
Look out, Daphne!
The beach ball comes sailing INTO SHOT, and Jerry catches it.
Come on, Sugar - let's play.
He takes Sugar's hand, skips off with her to join the other
Joe, meanwhile, has come up to a basket chair nearby.
Sitting in front of it, sorting sea shells out for a small pail,
is a BOY of five. A few feet away stands his MOTHER,
calling to him.
Let's go, Junior. Time for your nap.
Nah. I wanna play.
(out of the corner
of his mouth)
You heard your mudder, Junior. Scram.
They boy looks up at him, fearfully.
This beach ain't big enough for both of us.
The boy scrambles to his feet, and screaming "Mommy,"
runs off, leaving the pailful of shells behind. Joe settles
himself in the chair, peers over his shoulder toward the
girls playing ball.
The girls, Sugar and Jerry among them, are standing in a
wide circle, tossing the beach ball around and chanting
rhythmically: "I love coffee, I love tea, how many boys are
stuck on me? One, two, three, four, five - "
There is a wild throw over Sugar's head, in the direction of
Joe's chair. Sugar turns and runs after the ball to retrieve
This is exactly what Joe has been waiting for. As the ball
comes rolling past, he unfolds the Wall Street Journal,
pretends to be reading it. Just as Sugar runs by, Joe
extends his foot a couple of inches - enough to trip her and
send her sprawling to the sand.
Cary Grant by now)
Oh, I'm terribly sorry.
(helping her up)
You're not hurt, are you?
I don't think so.
I wish you'd make sure.
Because usually, when people find out
who I am, they get themselves a wheel chair
and a shyster lawyer, and sue me for a
quarter of a million dollars.
Well, don't worry. I won't sue you -
no matter who you are.
(returning to chair)
Who are you?
Now, really -
Jerry and the other girls are looking off toward Sugar,
waiting for the ball.
Hey, Sugar - come on.
Sugar picks up the ball.
He buries himself behind the Wall Street Journal again.
Sugar hesitates for a second, then throws the ball back to
the girls. She steps closer to Joe, peers around the paper,
Haven't I seen you somewhere before?
(without looking up)
Not very likely.
Are you staying at the hotel?
Not at all.
Your face is familiar.
Possible you saw it in a newspaper -
or magazine - Vanity Fair -
That must be it.
(waving her aside)
Would you mind moving just a little?
You're blocking my view.
Your view of what?
They run up a red-and-white flag on the
yacht when it's time for cocktails.
(snapping at the bait)
You have a yacht?
She turns and looks seaward at a half-a-dozen yachts of
different sizes bobbing in the distance.
Which one is yours - the big one?
Certainly not. with all that unrest in the
world, I don't think anybody should have
a yacht that sleeps more than twelve.
I quite agree. Tell me, who runs up that
flat - your wife?
No, my flag steward.
And who mixes the cocktails - your wife?
No, my cocktail steward. Look, if you're
interested in whether I'm married or not -
I'm not interested at all.
Well, I'm not.
That's very interesting.
Joe resumes reading the paper. Sugar sits on the sand
beside his chair.
How's the stock market?
Up, up, up.
I'll bet just while we were talking, you
made like a hundred thousand dollars.
Could be. Do you play the market?
No - the ukulele. And I sing.
For your own amusement?
Well - a group of us are appearing at the
hotel. Sweet Sue and Her Society Syncopators.
You're society girls?
Oh, yes. Quite. You know - Vassar, Bryn
Mawr - we're only doing this for a lark.
Syncopators - does that mean you play
that fast music - jazz?
Yeah. Real hot.
Oh. Well, I guess some like it hot. But
personally, I prefer classical music.
So do I. as a matter of fact, I spent
three years at the Sheboygan
Conservatory of Music.
Good school! And your family doesn't
object to your career?
They do indeed. Daddy threatened to
cut me off without a cent, but I don't care.
It was such a bore - coming-out parties,
- Inauguration balls -
- opening of the Opera -
- riding to hounds -
- and always the same Four Hundred.
You know, it's amazing we never ran into
each other before. I'm sure I would have
remembered anybody as attractive as you.
You're very kind. I'll bet you're also very
gentle - and helpless -
I beg your pardon?
You see, I have this theory about men
Maybe I'll tell you when I know you
a little better. What are you doing tonight?
I thought you might like to come to the
hotel and hear us play.
I'd like to - but it may be rather difficult.
(his eyes on the pail
with the shells)
I only come ashore twice a day -
when the tide goes out.
It's on the account of the shells.
That's my hobby.
You collect shells?
(taking a handful of
shells from the pail)
Yes. So did my father and my
grandfather - we've all had this passion
for shells - that's why we named the
oil company after it.
Please - no names. Just call me Junior.
By this time, the ball game is breaking up, and Jerry
approaches Sugar and Joe.
Come on, Sugar - time to change for dinner.
Run along, Daphne - I'll catch up with you.
(a casual glance
He takes a couple of steps away from them, freezes, comes
back and stares at Joe open-mouthed.
What is it, young lady? What are you
You - you -
This happens to me all the time in public.
I recognized him too - his picture was
in Vanity Fair.
(waving him aside)
Would you mind moving along, please?
Yes, you're in the way. He's waiting for
a signal from his yacht.
It sleeps twelve.
This is my friend Daphne. She's a Vassar girl.
I'm a what?
Or was it Bryn Mawr?
I heard a very sad story about a girl who
went to Bryn Mawr. She squealed on her
roommate, and they found her strangled
with her own brassiere.
Yes - you have to be very careful
about picking a roommate.
Well, I guess I'd better go -
It's been delightful meeting you both.
And you will come to hear us tonight?
If it's at all possible -
Oh, please do come. Don't disappoint us.
It'll be such fun. And bring your yacht.
Come on, Daphne.
She leads Jerry away. Joe throws them a casual salute.
As Jerry and Sugar move off, Jerry looks over his shoulder.
Well, I'll be - ! How about that guy?
Now look, Daphne - hands off -
I saw him first.
Sugar, dear - let me give you some advice.
If I were a girl - and I am - I'd watch my step.
If I'd been watching my step, I never would
have met him. Wait till I tell Josephine.
Yeah - Josephine.
Will she be surprised. I just can't wait
to see her face -
Neither can I. Come on - lets go up
to her room and tell her - right now.
He grabs her hand, starts to run toward the hotel.
We don't have to run.
Oh yes, we do!
38. INT. FOURTH FLOOR CORRIDOR - DAY. 38.
Jerry, holding Sugar by the hand, comes running down the
corridor from the elevator. He flings open the door of 413,
pulls Sugar inside.
39. INT. ROOM 413 - DAY. 39.
Jerry and Sugar stop breathlessly, look around. The room
I guess she's not in here.
That's funny. Josie -
(sees Josephine's dress on
a hanger; smugly)
I can't imagine where she can be.
Well, I'll come back later.
No, no, Sugar - wait. I have a feeling
she's going to show up any minute.
Believe it or not - Josephine predicted
the whole thing.
Yeah. This is one for Ripley.
Do you suppose she went out shopping?
That's it. Something tells me she's
going to walk through that door
in a whole new outfit.
He opens the door, peers out into the corridor expecting Joe
to show up in the yachting outfit. At the same time,
through the partly open door of the bathroom, comes
Josephine's VOICE, singing "RUNNING WILD."
Jerry does a double-take. Sugar starts toward the
bathroom door and opens it. Jerry follows her,
In the bathroom, Joe with his wig on, is lying languidly in
the tub taking a bubble-bath, up to his neck in white foam.
Oh, I didn't hear you come in.
Jerry looks back toward the windows, trying to figure out
how Joe got in.
The most wonderful thing happened -
They repealed Prohibition?
Oh, come on - you can do better than that.
I met one of them.
One of whom?
Shell Oil, Junior. He's got millions -
he's got glasses - and he's got a yacht.
You don't say!
He's not only got a yacht, he's got a bicycle.
Go on - tell me all about him.
Well, he's young and handsome and a
bachelor - and he's a real gentleman -
not one of these grabbers.
Maybe you'd better go after him -
if you don't want to lose him.
Oh, I'm not going to let this one get away.
He's so cute - collects shells.
Shells? Whatever for?
You know - the old shell game.
Daphne, you're bothering us.
Anyway, you're going to meet him tonight.
Because he said he's coming to hear us
play - maybe.
What do you mean, maybe? I saw the way
he looked at you. He'll be there for sure.
I hope so.
What do you think, Josephine? What does
it say in your crystal ball?
Joe glares at him. Meanwhile, Dolores has come into the
room in her wet bathing suit and carrying a dripping
rubber horse. She sticks her head into the bathroom.
Hey, Sugar, you got the key? I'm locked
out and I'm making a puddle in the hall.
(to Joe and Jerry)
See you on the bandstand, girls.
She follows Dolores out, closing the door. Joe and Jerry are
alone now. The atmosphere is tense. They look at each
Wise guy, huh? Trying to louse me up -
And what are you trying to do to
poor Sugar? Putting on that millionaire
act - and that phony accent -
(a la Cary Grant)
Nobody talks like that! I've seen you
pull some low tricks on dames - but this
is the trickiest and the lowest and the
His words trail off as he sees Joe rise slowly out of the tub.
The mystery of his quick change is now solved - he didn't
change at all. He is fully dressed in Bienstock's outfit, and
is clutching the yachting cap. As he emerges from the
bathtub, covered with suds, he looks like some diabolique
monster. He advances on Jerry menacingly.
I'm not scared of you -
I may be small, but I'm wiry -
(retreating some more)
When I'm aroused, I'm a tiger!
By this time he is up against the wall. Joe is closing in on
Don't look at me like that, Joe - I didn't
mean any harm - it was just a little joke -
don't worry - I'll press the suit myself.
The phone RINGS.
Joe closes in relentlessly.
You better answer the phone -
Joe slams the sopping cap on Jerry's head. As Jerry coughs
and splutters, Joe picks up the RINGING phone.
(remembering he is a
girl, pitches voice higher)
Hello - yes, this is 413 - ship-to-shore? -
all right, I'll take it.
40. EXT. FANTAIL OF THE YACHT CALEDONIA - DAY. 40.
It is a chic vessel indeed - and so is Osgood Fielding the
Third, lounging in a deck chair, speaking into a radio-
(that gleam in his eye)
Hello, Daphne? It's that naughty boy
again - you know, Osgood - in the
elevator - you slapped my face?
Who is this?
41. INT. ROOM 413 - DAY. 41.
Joe is on the phone. Through the open door of the
bathroom we see Jerry wiping his face.
This is her roommate. Daphne can't
talk right now. Is it anything urgent?
42. OSGOOD - ON PHONE. 42.
Well, it is to me. Will you give her a
message? I'd like her to have a little
supper with me on my yacht after
the show tonight.
43. JOE - ON PHONE. 43.
Got it. Supper - yacht - after the
show - I'll tell her.
44. OSGOOD - ON PHONE. 44.
The New Caledonia. That's the name
of it. The Old Caledonia went down during
a wild party off Cape Hatteras. But tell
her not to worry - this is going to be a
quiet little midnight snack - just the two of us.
45. JOE - ON PHONE. 45.
Just the two of you? What about the crew?
46. OSGOOD - ON PHONE. 46.
Oh, that's all taken care of. I'm giving
them shore leave. We'll have a little cold
pheasant - and champagne - and I
checked with the Coast Guard - there'll be
a full moon tonight - oh, and tell her I got
a new batch of Rudy Vallee records -
47. INT. ROOM 413 - DAY. 47.
That's good thinking. Daphne's a
push-over for him.
Jerry comes up, still holding the towel.
I'm a push-over for whom? What is it?
Who's on the phone?
Yes, Mr. Fielding - you'll pick her up after
the show in your motorboat - goodbye -
what's that you said? Oh - zowie!
I'll give her the message.
(he hangs up)
What message? What motorboat?
You got it made, kid. Fielding wants you
to have a little cold pheasant with him
on his yacht -
Oh, he does!
Just the three of you on that great big
boat - you and him and Rudy Vallee.
Fat chance! You call him right back
and tell him I'm not going.
Of course, you're not. I'm going.
You're going to be on the boat with that
dirty old man?
No. I'm going to be on that boat with Sugar.
And where's he going to be?
He's going to be ashore with you.
Oh, no! Not tonight, Josephine!
48. INT. HOTEL BALLROOM - NIGHT. 48.
It's a good sized nightclub of the period, with about 200
guests in formal dress - evening gowns, white dinner
jackets - at the tables and on the dance floor. A revolving
globe, with a mirrored surface, throws patterns of light and
shadow on the dancers.
On the bandstand, Sugar, backed by the rest of the
orchestra, is singing. The girls in the band, Joe and Jerry
among them, wear uniform evening gowns and long
earrings. Sugar and Sue war distinctive gowns.
Sugar's song is "I WANT TO BE LOVED BY YOU" - which she
belts across in the style of the Twenties, complete with
poop-poop-pa-doop trimmings. As she sings, she scans the
room for her bespectacled Prince Charming, but there is no
sign of him - naturally, since he is playing the saxophone
In back of Joe is Jerry, thumping the bass grimly. He looks
off, sees -
Osgood Fielding the Third, in a white mess jacket, sitting
alone at a table. Catching Jerry's eye, he waves
exuberantly, his face beaming with amorous anticipation.
On the bandstand, Jerry looks away haughtily.
(over his shoulder)
Daphne - your boy friend is waving at you.
You can both go take a flying jump.
Remember - he's your date for tonight.
Jerry smiles feebly.
Come on, you can do better than that.
Give him teeth - the whole personality.
(a frozen smile
on his face)
Why do I let you talk me into these things?
Because we're pals - buddies -
the two musketeers.
Don't give me the musketeers! How'm I
going to keep the guy ashore?
Tell him you get seasick on a yacht.
Play miniature golf with him.
Oh, no. I'm not getting caught in a
miniature sand trap with that guy.
The fresh young Bellhop we saw earlier comes up beside the
bandstand, carrying a large wicker basket full of flowers.
Which of you dolls is Daphne?
The Bellhop hands the basket to Jerry, nods off toward
It's from Satchel Mouth at Table Seven.
(he breaks off one
flower, hands it to Joe)
This is from me to you, doll.
Beat it, Buster.
Never mind leaving your door open -
I got a passkey.
He winks and moves off. Joe looks after him
contemptuously, then turns to Jerry, picks up the basket of
What are you doing with my flowers?
I'm just borrowing them. You'll get them
He hands Jerry the single flower, then looks around, fishes
a small envelope out of his decolletage, slips it into the
Sugar finishes her number, returns to her seat next to Joe.
Sue leads the orchestra into the signature music, SWEET
I guess he's not going to show up - it's
give minutes to one - you suppose he forgot?
Well, you know how those millionaires are.
(pointing at basket
These came for you.
(she opens the note)
It's Shell Oil.
Yes. He wants me to have supper with
him - on his yacht - he's going to
pick me up at the pier.
You heard her - yes.
Oh, Josephine - just imagine - me,
Sugar Kowalczyk, from Sandusky, Ohio,
on a millionaire's yacht. If my mother
could only see me now -
I hope my mother never finds out.
At his table, Osgood, catching Jerry's look, blows kisses to him.
On the bandstand, Sue turns to the audience for her
That's it for tonight, folks. This is Sweet
Sue, saying good night, and reminding
all you daddies out there - every girl in
my band is a virtuoso - and I intend to
keep it that way!
Behind her, Sugar picks up her ukulele and the basket of
flowers, tiptoes off the stand. Joe waves after her, wishing
her luck. Sugar hurries toward the staircase, passing
Bienstock, who is planted near the reservation desk. As Sue
cuts off the music Joe frantically packs up his saxophone.
Then he leaps off the bandstand, and dashing past the
bewildered Bienstock, starts up the stairs two at a time.
49. INT. ROOM 413 - NIGHT. 49.
Joe barges in, drops the saxophone case, locks the door.
Then he darts into the bathroom, wriggling out of his dress.
CAMERA PANS OVER to the other door of the bathroom as
the dress and shoes come flying out. They are immediately
followed by Joe, now partially dressed as a man. He slips
into Bienstock's coat, puts on the yachting cap. Even to a
captain he would be a captain now, except for one thing - in
his haste, he has neglected to take off his earrings. He
opens a window, steps out onto the balcony.
50. EXT. BALCONY OF ROOM 413 - NIGHT. 50.
Joe moves along the balcony, climbs over the railing, starts
to shinny down a post.
51. EXT. SIDE ENTRANCE OF HOTEL - NIGHT. 51.
Sugar, a fur boa over the evening gown she wore on the
bandstand, comes tripping down the steps, hurries eagerly
toward the beach.
52. EXT. HOTEL GROUNDS - NIGHT. 52.
In the f.g., to one side of the main entrance, a dozen
bicycles are parked in a rack. Joe drops down into the
scene, sees the bicycles, pulls one out, mounts it, and pedals
Standing under a tree in front of the hotel are Osgood and
Jerry. Jerry is in his evening gown and is holding a flower
in his hand.
But it's such a waste - a full moon -
an empty yacht -
I'll throw up!
Well, then, why don't we go dancing?
I know a little road-house, down the coast -
Joe comes whizzing past them on his bicycle. Jerry looks
after him, open-mouthed.
Well, I'll be - ! He does have a bicycle.
About that roadhouse -
They got a Cuban band that's the berries.
Why don't we go there - blindfold the
orchestra - and tango till dawn?
You know something, Mr. Fielding?
You're a pretty hot little firecracker yourself.
He links his arm through Jerry's, leads him down the path.
Sugar is now almost running toward the pier, a look of
great expectation on her face. This is the big night of her
Joe is pedaling desperately to get to the pier before her,
oblivious of the earrings dangling incongruously from his
53. EXT. PIER - NIGHT. 53.
About a dozen motorboats are tied up to the pier. Sugar
hurries across the planking and up the stairs to the
deserted pier, stops and looks around for her date. Behind
her, Joe comes skimming along the planking on his bicycle,
swoops under the pier.
A disheartened Sugar thinks that she has been stood up.
Joe dismounts from the bike, ducks underneath the pier,
and hops into the motorboat marked CALEDONIA.
Straightening up, he waves to Sugar on the pier above him.
Sugar turns, her face lighting up.
She hurries down the steps toward him.
Joe suddenly remembers his glasses. He takes them out of
his pocket, puts them on. As he does so, he feels the
earrings. He pulls them off, shoves them in his pocket -
and he's not a second too soon, for Sugar has just about
Been waiting long?
(Cary Grant again)
It's not how long you wait -
it's who you're waiting for.
He helps her down into the motorboat.
Thank you. And thank you for the flowers.
I wanted them to fly down some orchids
from our greenhouse but all of
Long Island is fogged in.
It's the thought that counts.
She settles herself back on the cushioned seat. Joe starts
fiddling around with the mysterious knobs on the
instrument panel. He pushes, pulls, twists the knob - finally
the motor turns over, but does not catch.
I seem to be out of gas.
It's sort of funny - you being out of
gas - I mean, Shell Oil and everything -
Joe, working the knobs desperately, does something right,
and the motor starts with a ROAR.
Here we go.
He presses every lever he can find, manages to shift into
gear. The boat backs out erratically. Joe shifts into
neutral, but no matter how hard he tries to find the
forward gear, he keeps winding up in reverse.
I just got this motorboat -
it's an experimental model.
Looks like they're on the wrong track.
Do you mind riding backwards?
It may take a little longer -
It's not how long it takes -
it's who's taking you.
The motorboat glides off backwards, and as though it were
the most natural thing in the world, skims out toward the
open water, where the yachts are anchored.
54. EXT. YACHT AT ANCHOR - NIGHT. 54.
The CALEDONIA is bobbing gently on a calm, moonlit sea.
The motorboat with Joe and Sugar comes in stern-
backwards. Joe, looking over his shoulder, maneuvers the
motorboat to a stop under the landing ladder. (Reams of
romantic music under all of this).
55. EXT. DECK OF CALEDONIA - NIGHT. 55.
as Joe and Sugar aboard. She gazes around, starry-eyed.
It looked so small from the beach -
but when you're on it, it's more like a
cruiser - or a destroyer.
Just regulation size. We have three like this.
Mother keeps hers in Southampton - and
Dad took his to Venezuela - the company
is laying a new pipe line.
My dad is more interested in railroads.
Baltimore and Ohio. Which is the port
and which is the starboard?
(the old mariner)
Well, that depends - on whether you're
coming or going - I mean, normally the
aft is on the other side of the stern - and
that's the bridge - so you can get from
one side of the boat to the other -
how about a glass of champagne?
Love it. Which way?
Yes - now let's see - where do you
suppose the steward set it up?
He looks around, confused by the unfamiliar geography,
then tentatively opens the nearest door, revealing a flight
of stairs leading below deck.
Oh, you have an upstairs and a downstairs.
Yes - that's our hurricane cellar.
He closes the door, opens another one - it's a storage bin,
containing mops, pails, coils of rope, etc.
And another nice thing about this yacht -
lots of closet space.
Sugar, meanwhile, has stepped up to a lighted porthole,
Oh - in here.
Of course. On Thursdays, they always
serve me in the small salon.
He opens the door, ushers Sugar inside.
56. INT. SALON OF YACHT - NIGHT. 56.
It's a very elegant layout - mahogany paneling, shelves of
trophies, a stuffed marlin on the wall, a luxurious couch
with a table for two et up beside it. On the table are lit
candles, cold pheasant under glass, and champagne in a
silver ice bucket.
Joe and Sugar come in, and as Joe takes his cap off, Sugar
looks around, dazzled.
It's exquisite - like a floating mansion.
It's all right for a bachelor.
(stopping by the
What a beautiful fish.
Caught him off Cape Hatteras.
What is it?
Oh - a member of the herring family.
A herring? Isn't it amazing how they get
those big fish into those little glass jars?
They shrink when they're marinated.
During this, he has opened the champagne, filled a couple
I don't mind if I do.
Down the hatch - as we say at sea.
As she sips the drink, she glances at the shelves of trophies.
Look at all that silverware.
Trophies. You know - skeet-shooing,
dog-breeding, water polo...
Water polo - isn't that terribly dangerous?
I'll say. I had two ponies drowned under me.
Where's your shell collection?
Yea, of course. Now where could they
have put it?
On Thursdays, I'm sort of lost around here.
What's on Thursdays?
It's the crews' night off.
You mean we're alone on the boat?
You know, I've never been completely
alone with a man before - in the middle
of the night - in the middle of the ocean.
Oh, it's perfectly safe. We're well
anchored - the ship is in shipshape -
and the Coast Guard promised to call me
if there are any icebergs around.
It's not the icebergs. But there are certain
men who would try to take advantage of a
situation like this.
You're flattering me.
Well, of course, I'm sure you're a gentleman.
Oh, it's not that. It's just that I'm - harmless.
Harmless - how?
Well, I don't know how to put it - but
I have this thing about girls.
They just sort of leave me cold.
You mean - like frigid?
It's more like a mental block. When I'm
with girls, it does nothing to me.
Have you tried?
Have I? I'm trying all the time.
He casually puts his arms around her, kisses her on the lips,
lets go of her again.
Nothing at all?
That makes me feel just awful.
Oh, it's not your fault. It's just that
every now and then Mother Nature throws
somebody a dirty curve. Something goes
You mean you can't fall in love?
Not anymore. I was in love once - but
I'd rather not talk about it.
(takes the glass bell
off the cold cuts)
How about a little cold pheasant?
I don't want to bore you.
Oh, you couldn't possibly.
Well, it was my freshman year at
Princeton - there was this girl - her
name was Nellie - her father was
vice-president of Hupmobile - she wore
glasses, too. That summer we spent
our vacation at the Grand Canyon -
we were standing on the highest ledge,
watching the sunset - suddenly we had
an impulse to kiss - I took off my glasses -
I took a step toward her - she took a
step toward me -
(hand flying to mouth)
Yes. Eight hours later they brought her up
by mule - I gave her three transfusions -
we had the same blood type - Type O -
it was too late.
Talk about sad.
Ever since then -
numb - no feelings. Like my heart was
shot full of novocaine.
You poor, poor boy.
Yes - all the money in the world - but
what good is it?
Mint sauce or cranberries?
How can you think about food at a time
What else is there for me?
(tears off leg
Is it that hopeless?
My family did everything they could -
hired the most beautiful French upstairs
maids - got a special tutor to read me all
the books that were banned in Boston -
imported a whole troupe of Balinese
dancers with bells on their ankles and those
long fingernails - what a waste of money!
Have you ever tried American girls?
She kisses him - pretty good, but nothing spectacular.
Is that anything?
(shaking his head)
Thanks just the same.
He resumes nibbling on the pheasant leg, sits on the couch.
Maybe if you saw a good doctor...
I have. Spent six months in Vienna with
Professor Freud - flat on my back -
(stretches out the
couch, still eating)
- then there were the Mayo Brothers -
and injections and hypnosis and mineral
baths - if I weren't such a coward,
I'd kill myself.
Don't talk like that. I'm sure there must
be some girl some place that could -
If I ever found a girl that could - I'd
marry her like that.
He snaps his fingers. The word "marriage" makes
something snap inside Sugar, too.
Would you do me a favor?
What is it?
I may not be Dr. Freud or a Mayo Brother
or one of those French upstairs girls -
but could I take another crack at it?
All right - if you insist.
She bends over him, gives him a kiss of slightly higher
Anything this time?
I'm afraid not. Terribly sorry.
Would you like a little more champagne?
And maybe if we had some music -
- how do you dim these lights?
Look, it's terribly sweet of you to want to
help out - but it's no use.
I think the light switch is over there -
(Sugar dims lights)
- and that's the radio.
(Sugar switches it on)
It's like taking somebody to a concert
when he's tone deaf.
By this time there is only candlelight in the salon, and from
the radio comes soft music - STAIRWAY TO THE STARS.
Sugar crosses to the couch with two champagne glasses,
hands one to Joe, sits beside him. Joe drinks down the
champagne, and Sugar hands him the second glass. He
drains that, too.
You're not giving yourself a chance.
Don't fight it. Relax.
(she kisses him again)
(shaking his head)
It's like smoking without inhaling.
This kiss is the real McCoy. As they stay locked in each
other's arms -
57. INT. ROADHOUSE - NIGHT. 57.
It is small, dark, and practically deserted. The Cuban band
is playing LA CUMPARSITA. Among the dancers on the floor
are Osgood and Jerry, easily the most stylish couple in the
joint. Jerry has the flower tucked in his cleavage. As they
You're leading again.
They tango on.
WIPE BACK TO:
58. INT. SALON OF CALEDONIA - NIGHT. 58.
Joe and Sugar are still in the same embrace. The radio
music continues. Finally they break.
Well - ?
I'm not quite sure. Try it again.
She does. As they break, she looks at him - the suspense is
I got a funny sensation in my toes - like
somebody was barbecuing them over a
Lets throw another log on the fire.
I think you're on the right track.
I must be - because your glasses are
beginning to steam up.
She kisses him again.
59. INT. ROADHOUSE - NIGHT. 59.
Osgood and Jerry have now got the tango by the throat.
Jerry is dancing with his back to the CAMERA, and as
Osgood whips him around, we see that Jerry has the flower
clamped between his teeth. They reverse positions again,
and Osgood grabs the flower between his teeth.
WIPE BACK TO:
60. INT. SALON OF CALEDONIA - NIGHT. 60.
The radio is still on, and Joe and Sugar are just coming out
of their last kiss. Joe removes his glasses, which are now
completely fogged up.
I never knew it could be like this.
They told me I was caputt - finished -
washed up - and now you're making
a chump out of all those experts.
Mineral baths - now really!
Where did you learn to kiss like that?
Oh, you know - Junior League - charity
bazaars - I used to sell kisses for the
They kiss again.
(going, going, gone)
Tomorrow, remind me to send a check
for a hundred thousand dollars to the
She doesn't have to kiss him any more - he takes over now.
61. INT. ROADHOUSE - NIGHT. 61.
The chairs are stacked on the tables, and Osgood and Jerry
are the only couple on the floor. Osgood, wearing the
flower behind his ear, and massaging his behind with a
tablecloth, is tangoing with wild abandon around Jerry.
Suddenly he grabs Jerry, bends him over in a dashing dip.
They straighten up, dance a couple of steps, and now Jerry
returns the compliment - he almost breaks Osgood's spine
with an even more dashing dip.
As for the Cuban musicians - we now discover that Osgood
has kept his word. They are all blindfolded.
62. EXT. YACHT AT ANCHOR - DAWN. 62.
Sugar and Joe are in the motorboat, gliding away from the
Caledonia toward the pier - backwards, naturally. It is
quite romantic - with the sun about to rise - and the
incidental music augmenting the mood.
63. EXT. PIER - DAWN. 63.
Joe and Sugar, his arm over her shoulder, walk dreamily
toward the hotel. From the other direction comes Osgood,
twirling the flower in his hand, and humming LA
CUMPARSITA. As he passes Sugar and Joe, he waves to
them jauntily, then continues toward the same motorboat
which just deposited them. He gets in, starts the motor,
64. EXT. HOTEL ENTRANCE - DAWN. 64.
Joe leads Sugar up to the steps, then stops and faces her.
How much do I owe the Milk Fund so far?
Eight hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
Let's make it an even million.
He gives her a final kiss. Sugar turns, starts up the steps,
then stops and comes back to him.
I forgot to give you your receipt.
She kisses him, then floats through the entrance of the
hotel. Joe watches her till she is out of sight, then takes off
his glasses. He hurries up the steps, starts to climb up one
of the posts of the veranda.
65. INT. ROOM 413 - DAWN. 65.
Jerry, still in his evening gown, is stretched out on his bed,
gaily singing LA CUMPARSITA and accompanying himself
with a pair of maracas. Joe appears over the railing of the
balcony, steps through the window into the room.
Hi, Jerry. Everything under control?
Have I got things to tell you!
Congratulations. Who's the lucky girl?
Osgood proposed to me. We're planning
a June wedding.
What are you talking about?
You can't marry Osgood.
You think he's too old for me?
Jerry! You can't be serious!
Why not? He keeps marrying girls
all the time!
But you're not a girl. You're a guy!
And why would a guy want to marry a guy?
Jerry, you'd better lie down.
You're not doing well.
Look, stop treating me like a child.
I'm not stupid. I know there's a problem.
I'll say there is!
His mother - we need her approval. But
I'm not worried - because I don't smoke.
Jerry - there's another problem.
Like what are you going to do on
We've been discussing that. He wants to
go to the Riviera - but I sort of lean
toward Niagara Falls.
You're out of your mind! How can you
get away with this?
Oh, I don't expect it to last. I'll tell him
the truth when the time comes.
Like right after the ceremony.
Then we'll get a quick annulment - he'll
make a nice settlement on me - I'll have
those alimony checks coming in every month -
Jerry, listen to me - there are laws -
conventions - it's just not being done!
But Joe - this may be my last chance to
marry a millionaire!
Look, Jerry - take my advice - forget
the whole thing - just keep telling yourself
you're a boy!
I'm a boy - I'm a boy - I wish I were
dead - I'm a boy - I'm a boy -
(slaps his wig down
on the desk)
What am I going to do about my
What engagement present?
Jerry picks up a jewel box, opens it, hands it to Joe.
He gave me this bracelet.
Joe takes Bienstock's glasses out of his pocket, examines the
bracelet through one of the lenses.
Hey - these are real diamonds.
Naturally. You think my fiance is a bum?
Now I guess I'll have to give it back.
Wait a minute - lets not be hasty.
After all, we don't want to hurt poor
There is a KNOCK on the door.
(in girl's voice)
Just a minute.
They grab their wigs, slap them on. Joe dives into bed,
pulling the covers up to his chin.
It's me - Sugar.
Sugar, in a negligee, comes in - or rather, floats in.
I thought I heard voices - and I just had to
talk to somebody. I don't feel like going
I know what you need - a slug of bourbon.
He opens a bureau drawer, takes out the hot-water bottle.
Oh, no. I'm off that stuff - for good.
Did you have a nice time?
(on a cloud)
It was suicidally beautiful.
Did he get fresh?
Of course not. As a matter of fact, it was
just the other way around. You see he
And talk about elegant - you should
see the yacht - candlelight - mint sauce
Gee, I wish I'd been there.
I'm going to see him again tonight -
and every night - I think he's going to
propose to me - as soon as he gets up
(looking at Joe)
That's some nerve!
(covering up quickly)
Daphne got a proposal tonight.
From a rich millionaire.
(suddenly turning to Joe)
Daphne has a beau - I have a beau -
if we could only find somebody for you.
The door opens, and in strides the fresh Bellhop, gin bottle
in one hand and the passkey in the other.
Here I am, doll!
Joe disappears under the covers.
66. INT. LOBBY SEMINOLE-RITZ HOTEL - DAY. 66.
We are CLOSE on a doormat bearing the name SEMINOLE-
RITZ HOTEL. A pair of men's feet step across the mat, the
shoes encased I white linen spats.
CAMERA PULLS BACK TO REVEAL Spats Colombo entering
the lobby, surrounded by his four henchmen and followed
by bellhops carrying their luggage. The henchmen are all
dolled up for Florida - knickers, Panamas, two-toned shoes
- and one of them is carrying a golf bag.
Spats is somewhat more conservatively dressed in a light
gray business suit. They stop and look around.
Draped across the rear wall is an impressive banner
10TH ANNUAL CONVENTION
FRIENDS OF ITALIAN OPERA
Friends of Eye-talian Opera - hey, that's us!
A convention official, wearing a badge and ribbon
identifying him as a committee member, comes up to Spats.
Register over there.
Spats nods to his boys, and they move toward the
registration desk, past other groups of delegates. You
would hate to meet any of these mugs in a dark alley, but
what makes it heartwarming is that they all have a
cauliflower ear for good music.
Sitting on a settee is a gentleman reading the Police
Gazette. As he lowers the paper, we see it's our friend
Mulligan, the Federal agent. He looks after Spats and his
boys with a wry smile.
At the desk, Spats and his group are identifying themselves
to the registrar. Leaning against a column, supervising the
proceedings, is a dark, menacing young hoodlum, JOHNNY
PARADISE. He is insolently flipping a half dollar in the air.
Spats Colombo - delegate from Chicago -
South Side chapter.
The registrar pins an identification tag on his lapel.
Hi, Spats. We was laying eight to one
you wouldn't show.
Why wouldn't I?
We thought you was all broken up
about Toothpick Charlie.
Well, we all got to go sometime.
Yeah. You never know who's going
to be next.
(jerks his thumb
Okay, Spats. Report to the Sergeant-
Orders from Little Bonaparte.
Spats has now been joined by the four henchmen, who have
also received their identification tags, and Paradise motions
them behind the screen.
Behind the screen, a couple of officials are waiting.
Put 'em up, Spats.
What's the idea?
Little Bonaparte don't want no
Spats reluctantly complies and the official frisks him.
Okay - you're clean.
He pulls an automatic out of the official's shoulder holster,
tosses it into a wire basket which already holds a large
collection of hardware.
The official glares at him, then turns and runs his hands
down the First Henchman. He feels something at the
bottom of one of his knickers, pulls elastic cuff. A gun
It ain't loaded.
The official pulls the elastic of the other knicker, and
several dozen bullets drop to the floor. The official kicks
them away, faces the henchman with the golf bag.
What's in there?
My golf clubs. Putter, niblick,
number three iron -
The official pulls a submachine gun out of the bag.
Spats emerges from behind the screen.
(still tossing coin)
See you at the banquet, Spats.
Spats looks at the young punk contemptuously, snatches
the coin out of the air.
Where did you pick up that cheap trick?
(drops the coin in the
kid's breast pocket)
Come on, boys.
He and his henchmen start across the lobby toward the
reception counter. As they pass Mulligan, he rises.
Well, Spats Colombo - if I were saw one.
Hello, copper. What brings you down
I heard you opera-lovers were having a
little rally - so I thought I better be
around in case anybody decides to sing.
Say, Maestro - where were you at
three o'clock on St. Valentine's Day?
Me? I was at Rigoletto.
What's his first name? And where
does he live?
That's an opera, you ignoramus.
Where did they play it - in a garage
on Clark Street?
Clark Street? Never heard of it.
Ever hear of the DeLuxe French Cleaners
on Wabash Avenue?
Because the day after the shooting you
sent in a pair of spats - they had
blood on them.
I cut myself shaving.
You shave with your spats on?
I sleep with my spats on.
Quit kidding. You did that vulcanizing
job on Toothpick Charlie - and we know it.
You and who else?
Me and those two witnesses whom your
lawyers have been looking for all over Chicago.
You boys know anything about any garage -
or any witnesses?
Us? We was with you at Rigoletto's.
Don't worry, Spats. One of these days
we'll dig up those two guys.
That's what you'll have to do -
dig 'em up!
He leads his boys away from Mulligan toward the reception
The elevator door opens, and among the passengers
stepping out are Joe and Jerry, in their summer dresses.
Joe is carrying their room key.
bracelet on wrist)
I feel like such a tramp - taking jewelry
from a man under false pretenses.
Get it while you're young. And you better
fix your lips. You want to look nice for
Osgood, don't you?
Jerry stops, takes a mirror and lipstick out of his handbag,
starts to touch up his lips.
It's just going to break his heart when
he finds out I can't marry him.
So? It's going to break Sugar's heart when
she finds out I'm not a millionaire. That's
life. You can't make an omelette without
breaking an egg.
What are you giving me with the omelette?
Nag, nag, nag. Look, we got a yacht,
we got a bracelet, you got Osgood,
I've got Sugar - we're really cooking.
(his eyes transfixed by
something he sees in
What Jerry sees in the mirror is Spats Colombo and the four
Something tells me the omelette is
about to hit the fan.
He nods in the direction of the reception desk. Joe looks,
sees what Jerry has seen, then -
Come on, Daphne.
With as much grace as they can muster, they hurry back
toward the elevator. The doors are just opening, and our
Bellhops comes backing out, trundling an old man in a
wheelchair. The old man wears a Panama hat, dark
glasses, and is covered up to his chin with a plaid blanket.
Joe and Jerry almost fall over the invalid in their haste to
get to the elevator.
67. INT. ELEVATOR - (CONTINUOUS) - DAY. 67.
Joe and Jerry scramble inside.
As the elevator operator starts to close the doors, he is
arrested by -
Joe and Jerry freeze as Spats steps into the elevator,
followed by the four henchmen.
I don't mean to be forward - but ain't I
had the pleasure of meeting you two
You must be thinking of two other broads.
You ever been in Chicago?
Us? We wouldn't be caught dead in Chicago.
Spats, his interest aroused, is now also studying the two
boys. To their relief, the elevator stops and the operator
opens the door.
(to the boys)
What floor are you on?
Never you mind.
He waves them away with the hand holding the room key.
The henchman glances at the numbered tag.
Room 413 - we'll be in touch.
He follows the others out.
Don't call us - we'll call you.
As the elevator doors start to close, Spats glances over his
shoulder toward the boys, frowning thoughtfully. In the
elevator, Joe and Jerry look at each other, swallow hard.
68. INT. ROOM 413 - DAY. 68.
Joe and Jerry are frantically dumping their clothes into two
open suitcases on the bed.
I tell you, Joe, they're on to us. They're
going to line us up against the wall and -
(imitating machine gun)
Eh-eh-eh-eh-eh - and then the police are
going to find two dead dames, and they're
going to take us to the ladies' morgue,
and when they undress us - I tell you, Joe,
I'm just going to die of shame.
Shut up and keep packing.
He picks up an orchid corsage, in a transparent box, from
the desk, starts to put it into the suitcase.
Not that, you idiot.
But they're from Osgood. He wanted me
to wear them tonight.
Joe tosses the corsage box into the waste basket. Jerry
starts to pack the maracas.
I'll never find another man who's so
good to me.
Joe fishes out Bienstock's yachting cap from under the bed,
turns it over in his hand, lost in thought.
Joe, if we get out of this hotel alive,
you know what we're going to do?
We're going to sell the bracelet, and
grab a boat to South America and
hide out in one of those banana republics -
(removes bracelet, puts it
in jewel case on desk)
The way I figure is, if we eat nothing
but bananas, we can live there for
fifty years - maybe a hundred years -
that is, if we get out of the hotel alive.
Did we forget anything?
(still studying cap)
There's our shaving stuff - and
(picking up phone)
Get me Room 414.
What do you think you're doing?
Making a telephone call.
Telephone call? Who's got time for that?
We can't just walk out on her without
Since when? Usually you leave 'em
with nothing but a kick in the teeth.
That's when I was a saxophone player.
Now I'm a millionaire.
Drop her a postcard. Any minute now
those gorillas may be up here -
(into telephone, in a
Southern female voice)
Hello, Room 414? This is the ship-to-shore
operator - I have a call for Miss Sugar Cane.
69. INT. ROOM 414 - (CONTINUOUS) - DAY. 69.
Dolores, in a robe and hair-curlers, is at the phone. Sugar,
in a negligee, is stretching out on her bed, dreamily reading
a copy of Vanity Fair.
Hey, Sugar, it's for you - from the yacht.
Sugar jumps up, grabs the phone eagerly.
70. INT. ROOM 413 - (CONTINUOUS) - DAY. 70.
Jerry is watching Joe on the phone.
(Cary Grant once more)
Hello, my dearest darling. So good
to hear your voice again.
I may throw up.
He disappears into the bathroom.
No, I didn't, darling - to tell the truth,
I never closed an eye.
As he and Sugar continue, their telephone conversation,
INTERCUT between the two rooms.
That's funny - I never slept better. And
I had the most wonderful dream. I was
still on the yacht, and the anchor broke
loose - and we drifted for days and days -
you were the captain and I was the crew -
I kept a lookout for icebergs, and I sorted
your shells, and mixed your cocktails, and
wiped the steam off your glasses - and
when I woke up, I felt like swimming
right back to you.
Yes. Now about our date for tonight...
I'll meet you on the pier again -
right after the show.
I'm afraid not. I can't make it tonight.
Not tomorrow, either. You see, I have to
leave - something unexpected came up -
I'm sailing right away.
Where to? South America? Oh.
That is unexpected.
You see, we have those oil interests
in Venezuela - and I just got a cable
from Dad - the board of directors
decided on a merger.
A merger? How long will you be gone?
Quite a while. As a matter of fact,
I'm not coming back at all.
It's all rather complicated - what we call
high finance - but it so happens that the
president of the Venezuelan syndicate
has a daughter, and -
Oh - that kind of a merger. Is she young?
According to our tax advisers, she's only
so-so. But - that's the way the oil gushes.
A man in my position has a certain
responsibility to the stockholders - all those
little people who invest their life savings -
Oh, of course. I understand. At least,
I think I do.
71. JOE - ON PHONE. 71.
I knew you would.
He picks up the jewel case with the diamond bracelet from
the desk, studies it thoughtfully.
I only wish there were something I
could do for you.
72. SUGAR - ON PHONE. 72.
But you have. You've given me all that
inside information - first thing tomorrow
I'm going to call my broker and have him
buy fifty thousand shares of Venezuelan oil.
73. INT. ROOM 413 - (CONTINUOUS) - DAY. 73.
(reaches into waste basket,
extracts corsage box)
Oh, by the way - did you get my flowers?
You know, those orchids from my
greenhouse - the fog finally lifted over
Long Island, and they flew them down
As he talks he opens the corsage box, puts the bracelet in
with the orchids, closes it again.
That's strange - I sent them to your room -
they should have been delivered by now -
Holding the phone in one hand and the corsage box in the
other, he moves toward the hall door.
74. INT. ROOM 414 - (CONTINUOUS) - DAY. 74.
Sugar covers the mouthpiece of the phone, turns to Dolores.
Hey, Dolores - will you see if there are
any flowers outside?
Dolores starts toward the hall door.
75. INT. FOURTH FLOOR CORRIDOR - DAY. 75.
The door of 413 opens. Joe, having come as far as the
length of the telephone cord will permit, sets the corsage
box down, kicks it across the hall to the door of 414. As he
closes his door, the door of 414 opens. Dolores reaches out,
picks up the corsage box, starts back inside.
76. INT. ROOM 414 - (CONTINUOUS) - DAY. 76.
Dolores brings the corsage box to Sugar.
Yes, they're here.
Oh - white orchids. Would you believe
it - I haven't had white orchids since I
was a debutante.
77. JOE - ON PHONE. 77.
What's what? Oh, that. just a little
going away present.
78. SUGAR - ON PHONE. 78.
Real diamonds. They must be worth
their weight in gold. Are you always
79. JOE - ON PHONE. 79.
Not always. But I want you to know I'm
very grateful for what you did for me.
80. SUGAR - ON PHONE. 80.
I didn't do anything. It just happened.
81. INT. ROOM 413 - (CONTINUOUS) - DAY. 81.
Jerry emerges from bathroom, carrying their toilet articles
and an armful of towels embroidered with SEMINOLE-RITZ
Oh. The navigator just came in -
we're ready to cast off.
82. SUGAR - ON PHONE. 82.
Well, anchors aweigh, you have a bon
voyage. And if you need an orchestra to
play at your wedding, we'll be through
here in a couple of weeks.
83. INT. ROOM 413 - (CONTINUOUS) - DAY. 83.
Goodbye, my darling.
He hangs up, stares moodily at the phone. Jerry shuts his
I don't know about the captain - but the
navigator is getting his tail out of here.
(snapping out of
Yeah - lets shove off.
They start to gather up their instruments and luggage.
Wait a minute - my bracelet.
(picks up jewel case,
shuts it, then realizes
What happened to my bracelet?
What do you mean, your bracelet?
It's our bracelet.
All right. What happened to our bracelet?
Don't worry. We did the right thing with it.
What did we do? Joe, you're not pulling
one of your old tricks.
No tricks, no mirrors, nothing up my
sleeve. It's on the level this time.
The door opens and Sugar comes in. The boys whirl
Where's that bourbon?
She heads straight for the bureau, starts to open various
drawers. Joe steps in front of the suitcases to conceal them
What's the matter, Sugar?
I don't know. All of a sudden, I'm thirsty.
Joe fishes the hot-water bottle out of the open suitcase
behind him, hands it to Sugar. As she reaches for it, Jerry
notices the diamond bracelet on her wrist.
How did you get that bracelet?
You like it?
I always did.
Junior gave it to me. It must have
at least thirty stones -
He's going to South America to marry
some other girl - that's what they call
That's what I call a louse! If I were you,
Sugar, I'd throw that bracelet right back
in his face.
He was the first nice guy I ever met in
my life - and the only one who ever
gave me anything.
You'll forget him, Sugar.
How can I? No matter where I go, there'll
always be a Shell station on the corner.
(indicating hot-water bottle)
I'll bring this back when it's empty.
She exits. Jerry turns on Joe furiously.
You crazy or something? The place is
crawling with mobsters - gangrene is
setting in - and you're making like
Diamond Jim Brady! How are we going to
get out of here? How are we going to eat?
We'll walk. And if we have to, we'll starve.
There you go with that we again.
He picks up his suitcase, starts toward the door. Joe grabs
him and pulls him back.
Not that way.
(heading for window)
We don't want to run into Spats and
He steps through the open French window onto the balcony.
Jerry starts to hand out the instruments and luggage to
84. INT. SPATS' SUITE - DAY. 84.
The four henchmen, in dinner clothes are playing cards in
the lavishly appointed living room when Spats emerges
from the bedroom. He is just slipping into his tuxedo coat,
and his spats are unbuttoned.
(to Second Henchman)
Your hands clean?
(the henchman extends
his palms up, then
turns them over)
Okay. Button my spats.
He drops into a chair, and the Second Henchman kneels,
starts to button the spats.
Say, boss - I been talking to some of the
other delegates - and the word is that
Little Bonaparte is real sore about what
happened to Toothpick Charlie. Him and
Charlie, they used to be choir boys together.
Stop, or I'll burst out crying.
He even got Charlie's last toothpick -
the one from the garage - and had it
Like I was telling you - Little Bonaparte
is getting soft.
(taps his chest)
He doesn't have it here any more. Used to
be like a rock.
(shaking his head)
Too bad. I think it's time for him to retire.
Second the motion.
How are we going to retire him?
We'll think of something cute. One of
these days, Little Bonaparte and
Toothpick Charlie will be singing in
the same choir again.
He points up. Outside the window, Joe appears, climbing
down a post from the floor above. He lands on the balcony,
reaches up for the instruments and suitcases which the
unseen Jerry is passing down to him.
And this time, we'll make sure there are
The First Henchman glances out the window, sees Jerry
climbing down the post to join Joe.
Look - it's those two broads from the
Spats turns and looks. The Second Henchman, beaming,
crosses to the window, calls out.
Hey - join us!
Joe and Jerry, panic-stricken, peer through the Venetian
blinds at Spats and his mob. Then they scramble for their
lives over the railing of the balcony and down, their hats
and wigs knocked askew.
What's the matter with those dames?
Maybe those dames ain't dames!
He yanks up the Venetian blinds, steps quickly out onto the
balcony, looks down over the railing. Then he picks up the
bull-fiddle, drags it through the window into the room.
Same faces - same instruments -
(pointing at bullet holes)
- and here's your Valentine's card.
Those two musicians from the garage!
They wouldn't be caught dead in Chicago -
so we'll finish the job here. Come on.
Led by Spats, they all dash out of the room.
After a moment, Joe's and Jerry's heads appear cautiously
over the balcony railing. Seeing that the room is empty,
they climb up, rush in through the open windows.
All right - so what do we do now?
First thing we got to do is get out
of these clothes.
He opens the door to the corridor and they peer out.
85. INT. THIRD FLOOR CORRIDOR - DAY. 85.
There is no sign of Spats and his boys. The elevator door is
just opening, and the Bellhop emerges, pushing the old man
in the wheelchair. Joe and Jerry watch as the Bellhop
wheels the old man into one of the rooms. They look at
each other, as the same idea occurs to them both, nod their
heads in agreement. Slipping out of Spats' room, they cross
the corridor to the old man's room, start inside.
86. INT. LOBBY - DAY. 86.
The elevator doors open, and a Bellhop backs out with a
man in a wheel chair. As they turn INTO CAMERA, we
discover that the bellhop is Jerry - the uniform fitting him
much too snugly - and the blanket-covered figure in the
wheel chair is Joe, dressed in the old man's suit, Panama
hat, and dark glasses.
As Jerry and Joe proceed with dignity toward the front
door, we see Spats and his henchmen deployed in strategic
positions around the lobby. Jerry wheels Joe past Spats.
Spats glances at them casually, then becomes aware of a
strange CLACKING SOUND. He looks down.
There is something decidedly odd about the bellhop -
because his trouser-legs terminate in high-heeled shoes.
Spats, grinning smugly, signals the two henchmen who are
guarding the front door. They start to close in on Joe and
Jerry. Jerry abruptly spins the wheel chair around, trundles
it toward the rear of the lobby. The other to henchmen
take up the chase. Jerry and Joe disappear into a corridor
leading toward the rear of the hotel. As the pursuing
henchmen start to turn into the corridor, the empty wheel
chair comes whizzing toward them. The henchmen stumble
over it, become momentarily entangled.
Joe and Jerry, sprinting down the corridor, reach an open
door, dart inside. The henchmen come racing up, and
passing the door, round a bend in the corridor.
87. INT. PANTRY - DAY. 87.
In the center of the room stands a huge cake, and two
convention officials are decorating it under the watchful eye
of Johnny Paradise, who leans against the wall
monotonously tossing a coin into the air. One of the
officials, wielding a confectioner's cone, has almost finished
lettering the inscription HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SPATS.
Joe and Jerry burst in from the corridor, and the three
hoods look up, startled. Before they can recover, the boys
have scooted across the room and out another door.
88. INT. BANQUET ROOM - DAY. 88.
Joe and Jerry come dashing in breathlessly, stop to get their
bearings. Dominating the room is a U-shaped table,
covered with flowers and about thirty place-settings, with a
half grapefruit on each plate. On the wall behind the head
of the table is the banner welcoming the Friends of Italian
Opera. The boys glance around the empty room, make a
beeline for the main entrance. As they reach the door, it
starts to open, and voices are HEARD from the corridor.
They turn desperately toward a second door, but that too is
opening. Trapped, they duck under the banquet table,
disappearing behind the long white tablecloth just as the
banqueteers start to troop in. They are the same mugs we
saw in the lobby, but they are now dressed in tuxedos or
white dinner jackets. Chatting amiably, they move to their
places at the table.
Under the table, Joe and Jerry huddle together as the
delegates start to seat themselves. Suddenly a pair of legs
slide beneath the tablecloth directly in front of them - and
the boys recoil when they see that the owner's shoes are
encased in spats.
Spats Colombo is settling himself at the table, while his four
henchmen take the seats on either side of him.
Me and Tiny, we had them cornered -
but we lost 'em in the shuffle.
(turning to other
Where were you guys?
Us? We was with you at Rigoletto's.
Why, you stupid -
He picks up the half-grapefruit in front of him, and is about
to ram it in the henchman's face.
It's all right, boss - we'll get 'em after
the banquet. They can't be too far away.
Under the table, Joe and Jerry exchange a panicky look.
There is a burst of APPLAUSE from the delegates as through
the door strides LITTLE BONAPARTE, accompanied by half a
dozen convention officials. Little Bonaparte is short, bald,
vicious, and wears a hearing aid. As he proceeds toward
the head of the table, his pose is Napoleonic -head bowed,
hands clasped behind his back. Spats and his henchmen
pointedly abstain from applauding. Little Bonaparte
remains standing at the place of honor while his associates
Thank you, fellow opera-lovers. It's been
ten years since I elected myself president
of this organization - and if I say so
myself, you made the right choice. Let's
look at the record. We have fought off the
crackpots who want to repeal Prohibition
and destroy the American home - by
bringing the corner saloon. We have
stamped out the fly-by-night operators
who endangered public health by brewing
gin in their own bathtubs, which is very
unsanitary. We have made a real contribution
to national prosperity - we are helping
the automobile industry by buying all
those trucks, the glass industry by using
all those bottles, and the steel industry -
you know, all those corkscrews. And what's
good for the country is good for us. In the
last fiscal year, our income was a hundred
and twelve million dollars before taxes -
only we ain't paying no taxes.
The delegates applaud.
Of course, like in every business, we've
had our little misunderstandings. Let us
now rise and observe one minute of silence
in memory of seven of our members from
Chicago - North Side chapter - who are
unable to be with us tonight on account of
being rubbed out.
All the delegates rise and bow their heads - except Spats
and his henchmen.
You too, Spats. Up!
Spats and his boys get up reluctantly, join the others in
89. INT. PANTRY - DAY. 89.
The inscribed top of the cake has been lifted off to reveal a
hollow interior. Johnny Paradise is climbing inside.
Easy now. You know when you come out?
Yeah. The second time they sing -
For he's a jolly good fel-low
Which nobody can deny.
(handing him a
And don't mess up the cake - I promised
to bring back a piece to my kids.
Johnny Paradise squats down inside the cake. The officials
set the lid back in place.
90. INT. BANQUET ROOM - DAY. 91.
The minute of silence is over, and the delegates are seating
themselves. Little Bonaparte remains on his feet.
Now, fellow delegates, there comes a
time in the life of every business executive
when he starts to think about retirement.
There are ad lib cries of "No! No!" from the delegates.
Little Bonaparte holds up his hand.
In looking around for somebody to fill
my shoes, I've been considering several
candidates. For instance, there is a
certain party from Chicago -
South Side Chapter.
He glances in the direction of Spats. Spats' henchmen turn
and look at their boss.
Now some people say he's gotten a little
too big for his spats - but I say he's a
man who'll go far. Some people say he's
gone too far - but I say you can't keep a
good man down. Of course, he still has
a lot to learn. That big noise he made on
St. Valentine's Day - that wasn't very good
for public relations. And letting those two
witnesses get away - that sure was careless.
Under the table, Joe and Jerry try to make themselves as
small as possible.
Don't worry about those two guys - they're
as good as dead - I almost caught up with
You mean you let them get away twice?
(clicks his tongue)
Some people would say that was real
sloppy - but I say to err is human, to
forgive divine. And you, Spats - the
boys told me you was having a birthday -
so we baked you a little cake.
My birthday? It ain't for another four months.
So we're a little early. So what's a few
months between friends?
(turning to the others)
All right, boys - now all together -
For he's a jolly good fellow....
The other delegates, including Spats' henchmen, join in the
song. The lights are extinguished, and from the pantry
come the two officials, pushing a cart on which stands the
cake, with candles blazing. They wheel the cake up directly
in front of Spats, who eyes it uneasily. Little Bonaparte,
meanwhile, is conducting the song with relish. As the
singers reach the climactic line, the top of the cake tears
open and out pops Johnny Paradise. Aiming his machine
gun at Spats and his henchmen, he starts blazing away.
Under the table, Joe and Jerry cringe.
Little Bonaparte winces, turns down the volume of his
hearing aid - he can't stand loud noises.
Spats' four henchmen have slumped across the table. Spats
is clutching his chest.
His eyes close, and he starts to slip out of his chair.
Under the table, Joe and Jerry react as Spats' body comes
sliding toward them, feet first.
Let's get out of here.
He grabs Jerry, pulls him out from under the table.
The delegates, who are watching Johnny Paradise scramble
out of the cake, are momentarily off guard as Joe and Jerry
streak across the darkened banquet room toward the
Get those two guys!
Four of the officials rush into the pantry after Joe and Jerry.
At the same time, the main door opens, and Mulligan
strides in. Standing in the corridor behind him are several
frightened waiters. Mulligan switches on the lights, looks
down at the five corpses.
What happened here?
There was something in that cake
that didn't agree with them.
Mulligan crosses to the cake, glances inside, then turns to
My compliments to the chef. And nobody's
leaving this room till I get the recipe!
You want to make a Federal case out of it?
(grabs hearing aid,
yells into mike)
91. INT. LOBBY - NIGHT. 91.
Joe and Jerry bolt out of the rear corridor, go pounding up
the stairs, followed by two of the officials. As they
disappear from sight, CAMERA PANS OVER to the elevator.
The door opens, and out step Joe and Jerry, wearing their
wigs and girls' coats.
As the boys mince daintily toward the front door, they see
the other two officials coming toward them. They change
their course abruptly. The first two officials come hurrying
down the stairs.
They slipped right through our hands.
Don't worry. We got our guys watching
the railroad station, the roads, the airport -
they can't get away.
(to Joe, in a
Did you hear that?
Yeah, but they're not watching yachts.
Come on - you're going to call Osgood.
He steers Jerry toward a row of telephone booths near the
entrance to the ballroom. There is an easel sign outside
announcing that Sweet Sue and her Society Syncopators are
appearing nightly in the Peacock Room, and from inside
comes the SOUND of MUSIC.
What'll I tell him?
Tell him you're going to elope with him.
Elope? But there are laws - conventions -
(jerking his thumb
over his shoulder)
There's a convention, all right. There's
also the ladies' morgue.
He shoves Jerry toward a phone booth. Jerry reaches under
his coat for a coin, revealing the rolled up trousers of the
Bellhop uniform underneath.
As he steps into the phone booth, Joe becomes aware of the
SOUND of sugar's VOICE drifting up from the ballroom. She
is singing "I'M THROUGH WITH LOVE." Almost despite
himself, Joe finds himself drawn toward the ballroom
92. INT. BALLROOM - NIGHT. 92.
Joe appears in the vestibule at the top of the stairs, looks
From his point of view, we see Sugar perched on top of the
piano, bathed in a spotlight. She is a little drunk, and more
than a little blue, and she is singing the lyrics with
Joe, watching her from the landing, is deeply moved.
Slowly, he starts down the steps.
One the bandstand, Sugar is winding up the torchy ballad,
when suddenly Joe steps into the spotlight. Without a word,
he takes her in his arms, kisses her.
Nearby, Sweet Sue is watching open-mouthed.
Bienstock, who is standing near the reservation desk, turns
and peer myopically toward the bandstand. At the same
time, two of the convention officials come up behind him.
Hey - that's no dame!
He and his companion rush toward the bandstand.
On the bandstand, Joe is brushing a tear away from
(in a male voice)
None of that, Sugar - no guy is worth it.
He catches sight of the two officials bearing down on him,
leaping from the bandstand, shoulders his way through the
couples on the dance floor. With the two officials on his
heels, Joe gallops up the stairs.
On the bandstand, all is confusion, as the girls stop playing
and stand up. Sugar is staring after Joe in complete
Suddenly it dawns on her - that kiss! Her eyes widen, her
hand flies to her mouth, and she looks with growing
comprehension at the bracelet on her wrist.
93. INT. LOBBY - NIGHT. 93.
Jerry is just stepping out of the phone booth when Joe
bursts out of the ballroom entrance.
It's all fixed! Osgood is meeting us
on the pier -
We're not on the pier yet -
He grabs Jerry, and they take off across the lobby, as their
pursuers appear behind them.
The boys head for the front door, but finding their way
blocked by the other two officials, they reverse their field
and hotfoot it toward the rear corridor. The four officials
converge on their trail.
Joe and Jerry charge down the rear corridor, go skidding
around the corner. As the officials come tooling after them,
two ambulance attendants round the turn in the corridor,
pushing a wheeled stretcher. On the slap is a boy, covered
with a sheet that hangs down the sides, and sticking out
from the end of the sheet are a pair of spat-covered shoes.
The four officials make way for this grisly cargo, then
resume the chase.
As the ambulance attendants wheel the stretcher toward
the lobby, the trailing sheet lifts up, and Joe and Jerry, who
have been clinging to the under-carriage, hop out. They
tear across the lobby and scoot out the front door.
94. EXT. PIER - NIGHT. 94.
Osgood is waiting impatiently on the pier. He hears
something, looks off toward the beach.
Jerry and Joe, still wearing their wigs and girls' coats, come
scrambling down the steps, race across the planking
toward the pier.
On the pier, Osgood's face lights up. Jerry comes puffing
up the stairs, followed by Joe.
This is my friend Josephine - she's
going to be a bridesmaid.
Pleased to meet you.
He practically drags Osgood down the stairs leading to the
(over his shoulder, to Joe)
She's so eager!
Swooping down from the beach on a bicycle comes Sugar,
pumping like mad. The bicycle bounces down the steps, and
Sugar pedals across the planking, sounding her HORN.
Osgood and Jerry have settled themselves in the front seat
of the motorboat, and Joe is getting into the rear seat when
he hears the SOUND of the bicycle HORN. He looks back.
Osgood starts the motor. Sugar comes racing up the stairs
tot he pier, leans over the railing.
Wait for Sugar!
She hurries toward the other staircase.
In the motorboat, Osgood turns to Jerry.
Sugar comes charging down the stairs, starts to get into the
rear seat beside Joe.
Sugar! What do you think you're doing?
I told you - I'm not very bright.
on the back)
The motorboat takes off with a ROAR.
95. EXT. MOTORBOAT - NIGHT. 95.
In the back seat, Joe is removing his wig and coat.
You don't want me, Sugar - I'm a liar and
a phony - a saxophone player - one of
those no-goodnicks you've been
running away from -
(hitting her head)
Do yourself a favor - go back where the
millionaires are - the sweet end of the
lollipop - not the cole slaw in the face
and the old socks and the squeezed-out
tube of toothpaste -
That's right - pour it on.
(twines her arms
around his neck)
Talk me out of it.
She kisses him resoundingly, bending him over backwards
till they are both practically out of sight.
Up front, Osgood is blithely steering the boat, keeping his
eyes straight ahead. Jerry is looking over his shoulder at
the activities in the back seat.
I called Mama - she was so happy she
cried - she wants you to have her
wedding gown - it's white lace.
Osgood - I can't get married in your
mother's dress. She and I - we' not
built the same way.
We can have it altered.
Oh, no you don't! Look, Osgood - I'm
going to level with you. We can't get
married at all.
Well, to begin with, I'm not
a natural blonde.
It doesn't matter.
And I smoke. I smoke all the time.
I don't care.
And I have a terrible past. For three
years now, I've been living with a
I forgive you.
(with growing desperation)
And I can never have children.
We'll adopt some.
But you don't understand!
(he rips off his wig;
in a male voice)
I'm a MAN!
Well - nobody's perfect.
Jerry looks at Osgood, who is grinning from ear to ear,
claps his hand to his forehead. How is he going to get
himself out of this?
But that's another story - and we're not quite sure the
public is ready for it.