ONE SALIVA BUBBLE
David Lynch Mark Frost
first draft 5/20/87
FADE IN:
INT. HIGH-TECH TRACKING STATION - NIGHT
A top-secret, experimental, offensive/defensive military
installation hidden away in the countryside outside Philadelphia,
Pennsylvania.
CLOSE on a beautiful, intricate, state of the art computer panel as
it is lifted out of a large console. A huge, dimly lit display
board, sporting a galaxy of small running lights, looms above.
The panel's removal creates a large, vulnerable opening, inside of
which is a massive confluence of electronics.
As a small group of refined, well-groomed SCIENTISTS studiously
examine the removed panel, their intense concentration is
periodically disrupted by the hysterical guffaws of a nearby group
of three uniformed SECURITY GUARDS, who appear to be refugees from
the Neolithic period.
The Guards, totally oblivious to the Scientists, are regaling each
other with pitiful and infantile jokes.
GUARD #1
... so she said to him, "poo-
poo on your pee-pee".
The Guards explode like a pack of howling hyenas. The Scientists
glance over at them with a look that seems to say, "How is it
possible for us to be sharing the same planet?"
GUARD #2
Did you just cut a big one or is
Suzie back in town?
Guard #3, the biggest Neanderthal of the bunch, stops laughing long
enough to contribute a rude, tounge-flapping raspberry, during the
course of which ...
CUT TO:
CLOSE ON FLAPPING TONGUE
Unbeknownst to him, Guard #3 jettisons a perfect saliva bubble out
into the air and we follow it through space, across the room, past
the unknowing, refined, well-groomed Scientists and down into the
microscopic copper wires, creating a tiny, seemingly insignificant
electrical short circuit, which will soon prove to have monumental
consequences.
CUT TO:
CLOSEUP COMPUTER CONTROL PANEL
Unnoticed by anyone in the room, a small, yellow light emitting
diode blinks on, then blinks off.
CUT TO:
EXT. EARTH'S STATOSPHERE - NIGHT
A simple, streamlined satellite, which resembles nothing so much as
a large red onion surrounded by a hula-hoop, suddenly stops, then
spins on its axis. As we MOVE IN CLOSE on the satellite we hear a
loud metallic CLICK, and a small panel slides open revealing a
digital clock with a readout of: 24:00. Another CLICK and the
clock begins to count down.
CUT TO:
EXTREME CLOSE UP
On the bubble rhythmically pulsating between the two copper wires.
Bubble MUSIC begins and we roll CREDITS.
CUT TO:
EXT. NEWTONVILLE, KANSAS - MORNING
A billboard beside the highway on the outskirts of town reads:
WELCOME TO NEWTONVILLE
LIGHTING CAPITAL OF THE WORLD ...
WE'RE ZAPPY TO SEE YOU !!!
pop. 43,108
Behind the billboard, two lightning bolts crack the dry desert sky,
followed by a peal of distant thunder, under which FADES IN the
melodic strains of a happy country waltz.
CUT TO:
EXT. NEWTONVILLE ROLLER RINK - MORNING
A gigantic, old red barn, its roof adorned by a huge, cement roller
skate, whose weatherworn wheels revolve lazily in the warm morning
sun. Neon sparks spray out from under the wheels. A sign under the
skate reads:
GET A CHARGE ON OUR LIGHTNING FAST SPEEDWAY!
CUT TO:
INT. NEWTONVILLE ROLLER RINK - MORNING
BIG TOM and WOODY, the rink's proprietors, sit on a small balcony
overlooking the rink, directly above the concession stand, manned by
RANDY, a pear-shaped menial. Randy pours two coffees, under the
critical supervision of Woody, a man particularly obsessive about
the preparation of his java.
WOODY
One lump you idiot.
RANDY
How many lumps?
WOODY
ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
BIG TOM
(leaning down, kindly)
Randy, defrost the "Beefy Cheese Louise".
RANDY
Yes, sir.
Randy moves to a refrigerator, plastered with a garish sign that
reads:
"HOT AND JUICY BEFFY CHEESE LOUISE"
He opens it, revealing neatly arranged rows of bright yellow,
cheese-covered hamburger patties. Big Tom and Woody sit back, sip
their coffee, gazing out at the lone COUPLE skating around the rink.
BIG TOM
Not bad business for a Wednesday.
Woody looks nervously at his watch, hardly reassured.
CUT TO:
EXT. ROLLER RINK - MORNING
MOVING off the huge skate, we travel down the road and can't help
but notice the large, rotating, neon lightning rod on top of an
electric pink, pearlescent stucco building. The sign below the rod
reads:
NNIE'S LIGHTNING ROD
COMING SOON
SAMMY "THE STOMP" JOHNSON
Ominous jazz MUSIC fades up and out as we pass Vinnie's. Across the
street, on the marquee of the Rialto Theatre we see the words:
ONE WEEK ONLY
THE FABULOUS CHINESE ACROBATS
FROM THE FAR PROVINCES
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. USED CAR LOT - MORNING
The sign above reads:
LUCKY BUCK'S
USED CARS AND TRUCKS:
14U
DON'T PASS THE BUCK
A YOUNG COUPLE examines a used Rambler, parked outside the sales
office.
CUT TO:
INT LUCKY BUCK'S SALES OFFICE - MORNING
WALLY NEWTON, a forty year old milquetoast salesman, wilts under the
stern finger of his boss, militaristic, ramrod-stiff LUCKY BUCK.
LUCKY BUCK
Before you fall out for chow, you
yellow-bellied, jelly-spine, you march
directly out there, soldier, engage the
enemy, and DON'T let them look under the hood.
WALLY
(quivering)
But, but the engine --
LUCKY BUCK
Mister, the only BUT I want to hear
from you is, "my butt's out there
selling that vehicle". Move out!
WALLY
Yes sir, Lucky Buck.
Wally heads directly out the door. The door closes. Lucky Buck
watches him go.
INTERCUT:
LUCKY BUCK'S POV
Wally moves to the Couple, engages them in a conversation we don't
hear. The Husband points to the hood. Wally nervously glances back
at Lucky Buck, who stares at him. Wally pulls his neck in and opens
the hood. Lucky Buck shakes his head in dismay, mutters ...
LUCKY BUCK
Mister, you are one sorry piece of poop.
CUT TO:
INT. RAMBLER HOOD
Empty. No engine.
CUT TO:
EXT. COMPANY "B" - DAY
A large, imposing, 30's style, concrete office building, topped by a
gigantic, blue:
"B"
CUT TO:
INT. COMPANY "B" - DAY
The lobby reception area; blue carpet, blue walls. Two EMPLOYEES
pass by the RECEPTIONIST, all wearing standard company issue yellow
uniforms that sport a big blue "B" on the lapel.
Looking through the glass front doors we see HORTON THURSBY, a man
who from a distance you might mistake for Wally Newton, until you
get close enough to feel his radioactively terrifying aura of
twisted, homicidal power. His eyes are like black, malignant
bumblebees. His sport coat is a hundred decibels. The doors fly
open as if to flee from him and he enters without breaking his
juggernaut stride. The Receptionist, who on the face of it appears
she could give him a run for his money, looks up as he reaches the
desk.
HORTON
Horton Thursby.
RECEPTIONIST
I'm sorry, there's no one here
by that name.
HORTON
(extremely ominous)
What did you say?
RECEPTIONIST
I s-s-said, no one here, that name.
HORTON
Because that's my name, tubby.
RECEPTIONIST
(nailed to her chair)
W-who shall I say is calling?
HORTON
(leaning in very close)
Horton Thuraby.
Panicked, she rifles through her appointment book and slams her
finger down when she finds ...
RECEPTIONIST
Uh-huh, I s-s-see your name right here.
HORTON
I have a pointment with Mr. Biggs,
bean brain.
RECEPTIONIST
Indeed you do, of course you do, you
certainly do, he's expecting you, he's
set aside the time to --
HORTON
(a finger in her face)
That's enough.
RECEPTIONIST
(nods vigorously, can't look at
him, points)
Ma-Mr. Thuraby, if you'd like to take
the Ex-exec-executive Elevator --
Horton's already making a beeline for the elevator; its doors zip
open and shut behind him as he enters.
CUT TO:
INT. EXECUTIVE ELEVATOR
Horton stands underneath a speaker, piping out insipid Muzak. His
icy stare travels up to the speaker. It sputters, gasps and goes
silent. His gaze moves back down.
CUT TO:
EXT AIRPORT, ZURICH, SWITZERLAND - DAY
Deep, deep snow and more falling. The Matterhorn is visible in the
distance. A sign reads:
ZURICH INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
ALWAYS ON TIME
Lederhosen clad PORTERS on skis carry in the curbside luggage of
passengers arriving in a variety of sleds and toboggans. A small
herd of bell-clad COWS part as a horse-drawn sleigh pulls up and out
hops a sprightly, middle-aged, bright-eyed, frizzy-haired genius,
PROFESSOR HUGO ZINZERMACHER. He walks up to the DRIVER and hands
him a note.
HUGO
International Airport, please.
The Driver looks at him, looks at the note. The note reads:
"PLEASE TAKE THE PROFESSOR TO
ZURICH INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT"
The Driver turns back to the Professor.
DRIVER
You are here.
HUGO
That may be, however I have a
plane to catch.
DRIVER
Please. This IS the airport.
The Professor looks around, looks back at the Driver.
HUGO
Thank you so much.
He takes off his coat, hands it to the Driver and gets back into the
sleigh. The Driver exhales heavily.
CUT TO:
INT. ZURICH AIRPORT TERMINAL - DAY
Doors open, the Driver hustles the Professor in through the doors,
carrying his bag and coat. Two young clean-cut men, BERT FINE and
MEL GLEASON, both in bright blue uniforms with a big yellow "A" on
the label, spot the Professor, rush across the terminal to him.
BERT
Professor Zinzermacher?
HUGO
(cheerfully)
No, I'm Professor Zinzermacher.
Bert and Mel look at each other. The Driver shakes his head, hands
the bag and coat to Bert and Mel and walks away.
HUGO (CONT'D)
I am Professor Hugo Zinzermacher.
Hugo you way und I'll go mine.
He extends a hand. They each shake it. Under the following wails
the low, sonorous boom of an Alpine horn.
BERT
Bert Fine.
MEL
Mel Gleason. It's an honor to meet
you, sir.
HUGO
You boys seemed a bit confused at
first.
BERT
It's a long flight from Kansas, we're
a little jet lagged.
CUT TO:
BERT, MEL AND THE PROFESSOR
Mel looks at his watch.
MEL
That's us. Have your ticket,
Professor?
HUGO
Well, I don't mind if I do.
What kind?
Mel and Bert look at each other again.
BERT
Would you mind going through your
pockets, Professor --
MEL
And see if you're in possession
of an airline ticket to Kansas.
HUGO
(with a faraway look)
What if we relate the vector on
a parallelogram, equidistant to but
not exceeding the bifurcation of
the remaining cardinal coordinates?
BERT
Mel, go through his coat --
MEL
(searching him)
You can bet that plane's going
to leave on time.
BERT
There was something in the report
about his socks ...
They both kneel down and each pulls up a pant leg, revealing droopy
socks of vastly different colors. One sock yields a toothbrush and
the other a crumpled airline ticket which Mel immediately grabs.
MEL
Let's move.
They each grab one of Hugo's arms and start running him towards the
gate.
CUT TO:
Meanwhile, back in Newtonville, Kansas...
INT. COMPANY "B" BOARDROOM - DAY
Thwack! A telescoping pointer in the hand of Company "B"'s CEO, MR.
BIGGS, smacks into a lifesize photograph of Professor Zinzermacher
on the wall of the Company "B" boardroom. In the photograph, the
Professor's shoelaces are wildly askew. His rumpled, tweed suit is
encrusted with food. His frizzled hair looks like a bird's nest. A
small retinue of yellow-clad FUNCTIOMARIES sit at the conference
table, giving Horton, at the far end, a wide berth.
MR. BIGGS
He can't even tie his own shoes,
yet he's one of the greatest minds of
Western Civilization, and who's got him?
Company "A"!! According to Mr. Posthole,
our worthy mole who's penetrated the
innermost sanctums of Company "A" --
CAMERA drifts over and finds MR. POSTHOLE, the Company "B" spy, a
shifty blonde guy in brick-thick black hornrims.
MR. BIGGS (CONT'D)
-- they've purchased Professor Zinzermacher's
brainpower for their covert Center for
Advanced Nucleacly Abritrary Permutations
Experimentation, also known as C.A.N.A.P.E.
Yes, they've got the Professor. But, ladies
and gentlemen, not for long, because we've
got Mr. Horton Thursby.
Everyone smiles and all eyes turn to Horton. He doesn't flinch.
MR. BIGGS (CONT'D)
Thursby, this ... is your target.
CLOSE on Horton, as he squints at Hugo's picture.
CUT TO:
HORTON'S POV
Hugo's picture comes into focus and cross-hairs appear between his
eyes, as if looking through the telescopic sight of an elephant gun.
CUT TO:
HORTON
As he lights a cigarette, inhales a big drag. His eyes flit back to
Mr. Biggs.
HORTON
It's your money.
The Functionary nearest to Horton subtly moves the tabletop "THANK
YOU FOR NOT SMOKING" plaque out of Horton's sightline.
CUT TO:
INT. AIRPLANE - NIGHT
Mel and Bert are asleep under blankets, both smiling blissfully, but
their sleep becomes more troubled and they are eventually woken by
an atrociously loud cellophane rustling SOUND. The Professor is
trying desperately to open a small airline bag of peanuts.
CUT TO:
EXT. VALLY NEWTON'S HOUSE - DAY
Wally drives his 1950 two-tone, four-door Pontiac Firechief into the
driveway of his modest house. He stops the car, cuts the engine and
cautiously peers out the window. Silence. He carefully opens the
car door, trying to minimize all sounds, gets out and tip-toes
towards the front door.
Out of nowhere, flies a tiny, yapping Pekinese dog, sporting a
yellow ribbon in its hair and baring its hideous little teeth.
Wally breaks into a sprint and is about to reach the door when the
dog overtakes him and clamps its jaws onto one of his ankles. Wally
wildly flails his leg around, trying to dislodge the beast, finally
succeeds and sends it soaring into the air over a hedge.
Wally bolts into the house, slamming the door behind him, just as
the dog jets back on the attack, making a hair net out of the screen
door.
CUT TO:
INT. WALLY NEWTON'S HOUSE - DAY
Wally catches his breath, turns. A savage cry is heard and his son,
GORDIE, rolls out from behind an overstuffed chair and empties a toy
machine gun at his father's chest and head. Wally just stands
there.
POLLY'S VOICE
Where have you been? Do you
realize what time it is?
(appearing around a corner)
I'll tell you what time it is,
Gordie, what time is it?
Gordie activates his talking military digital.
WATCH VOICE
Sixteen hundred hours. Time to bivouac.
POLLY
Sometimes I think you're stupider
than your Cousin Newt, don't you
realize what we were supposed to
do tonight?
GORDIE
Newt's an idiot.
POLLY
We were supposed to look at our
video BEFORE dinner so we could
practice DURING dinner. I suppose
you forgot the wine, too.
WALLY
I had a --
POLLY
Are you going to give me an excuse?
You were going to give me an excuse,
weren't you? Wally? Do I look like
the type of person who'd be interested
in an excuse?
Demoralized, Wally slouches towards his overstuffed chair, reaching
under his left arm to scratch.
POLLY (CONT'D)
Don't you touch that rash! You'll keep
me up all night with your scratching!
(Wally slumps in the chair)
If I was really interested in hearing
some pitiful story don't you think
I'd ask to hear it? Do I look like
the type of person who lives in a
fantasy world? Look at me, Wally.
Wally, look at me when I'm talking
to you, what do you see? Hmm?
(Wally shakes his head)
Do you see a poor, tired housewife,
holding our lives together by sheer
force of will, who received today
a phone call? A phone call from
your rich relatives up at the Manor
who didn't otherwise even know I'm
alive, who asked ME to ask YOU to
please pick up your idiot cousin
Newt tomorrow at the airport? Do
you have any idea how humiliating
that is?
She stands and screams towards the ceiling, repeatedly. Wally
covers his eyes and face with his hands. When he uncovers them,
Gordie is right in front of him, assuming the classic police stance.
He fires six quick rounds from his toy pistol, emptying the magazine
point blank at Wally's head.
CUT TO:
A TV MONITOR
CLOSE on the grainy image of a sophisticated couple seated at a
candlelit table. Syrupy MUSIC and a dry, industrial film NARRATOR
over ...
NARRATOR'S VOICE
Sniff the cork along with us now
and let its heady bouquet transport
you into the Wonderful World of
Wine Tasting! Part Two.
(big music cue)
Wally and Polly sit facing the television, each holding a large
glass of red wine, staring attentively at the screen. Wally wears an
apron that says:
DON'T BOTHER ME I'M COOKING
NARRATOR'S VOICE (CONT'D)
You've made your selection, and by the
sommelier's sly little smile you know
he approves. The wine's been decanted,
it's had a chance to b-r-e-a-t-h-e.
It sits, poised in your glass, a ruby
nectar beckoning your lips.
(hushed tones)
Now, band forward ... a little further ...
a little further, that's right ...
Wally and Polly follow the actions of the couple on the screen.
NARRATOR'S VOICE (CONT'D)
Extend the neck ... imagine your lips
forming the perfect letter "o" ... lower
the "o" to the rim ... now, remember the
babbling brook ...
The couple on screen LOUDLY SUCKS UP AIR AND WINE, making a weird
fluted whistling sounds. Wally and Polly mimic it.
NARRATOR'S VOICE (CONT'D)
... and again ...
Both couples repeat the action.
CUT TO:
EXT. SOOTHING BREEZES SANITARIUM - DAY
CLOSE on a sign that reads:
SOOTHING BREEZES
SANITARIUM
A fierce wind is howling, violently waving a tree limb in front of
the sign.
CUT TO:
INT. SOOTHING BREEZES OFFICE - DAY
DR. ANGELA RUTHERFORD, in a sharp, tailored tweed suit, is
consulting with the sanitarium's administrator, DR. ETHAN FLORD. As
they speak, he watches the fish in a small aquarium on his desk.
Angela holds a thermos of coffee.
ANGELA
So all I really need is your signature
here, Dr. Flord, and we can release Newt
Newton for his annual visit home.
She puts a form in front of him on the desk.
DR. FLORD
You know, he's not even left us yet and
it's as if I miss Newt already. When I'm with
him, of course I'm always with him in spirit,
as I am with all our patients, even now,
against all evidence to the contrary, I
sense some small spark of mental activity
behind those bulging eyes. Perhaps this
is a projection on my part. A projection
filled with a physician's unquenchable
hopefulness.
ANGELA
Uh-huh.
DR. FLORD
Has it been a year already? It seems it was
only last week when he was flying off to the
bosom of his family, when in fact three hundred
and sixty five days, give or take a few -- this
wasn't a leap year was it? No, of course not.
Ah, remembrances -- remembrances.
Fighting off the wave of crippling boredom and mental exhaustion
induced by the Doctor's monotone, Angela quickly pours a large cup
of coffee, stifling a yawn.
ANGELA
I only need your signature --
DR. FLORD
Was it March of last year when my Aunt was
fitted for her prosthesis? I suppose it was.
What a difference it made, how it changed
her! In ways one couldn't possibly imagine.
First, the new carpeting. Inexplicable perhaps,
at first glance. But on closer scrutiny,
however, an underpinning of rationality
seemed to emerge.
Angela takes a big gulp of coffee, grabs an arm of a chair and
lowers herself into it, struggling to keep her eyes open. The fish
in the aquarium begin to slow perceptibly.
ANGELA
Only your signature. Please, Doctor.
DR. FLORD
(looking at his hands)
As if creation, splintered into a hundred
million realities, was actually nothing
less than the complicated interweavings ...
(locking his fingers together)
... of one, grand design. Well-hidden,
mind you, but upon deeper examination,
open the doors ...
(he opens his hands and wiggles
his fingers)
... and there's all the people.
(a small, vanilla chuckle)
And of course that's when I realized
Aunt Hildy had friends and had purchased
a pet. Which brings me back to Newt. Isn't it
odd how every Newton since Newt's Grandad has
been struck by lightning? Newt's Grandad
was struck by lightning. He's a complete
idiot. Newt's father was struck by lightning.
He's no longer with us. And of course Newt
was struck by lightning and by golly, he's
a complete idiot. And all of them were named
Newton. Newton Newton. Newton Newton. Newton
Newton ...
We hear the SOUND of liquid pouring slowly onto the carpet. We see
Angela's relaxed hand tipping her coffee cup towards the floor. We
see Angela is sound asleep. A fish in the aquarium slowly rolls and
goes belly up.
DR. FLORD (CONT'D)
Those eyes. Those bulging, happy
puppy eyes.
CUT TO:
NEWT NEWTON'S EYES
Bulging. Happy, gleaming puppy eyes. We periodically and
rhythmically hear the SOUND of breaking eggs. With each crack his
eyes widen.
CUT TO:
INT. SOOTHING BREEZES CORRIDOR - DAY
Angela is leaning over a drinking fountain, splashing cold water
onto her face, trying to shake off Dr. Flord's torpor. She moves on
and stops to speak to a PATIENT standing in the hall, dressed as and
in fact bearing an uncanny resemblance to Napoleon.
ANGELA
Have you seen Newt?
PATIENT
Helping out in ze kitchen. Assemble
all ze men; tomorrow we march on
Moscow.
ANGELA
Thank you, your Highness and good
luck tomorrow.
PATIENT
We will need it; zose beasts haf no
souls. I hope ze weather holds. I
saw Bing Crosby in a dream.
She moves on towards the kitchen.
CUT TO:
INT. SOOTHING BREEZES KITCHEN - DAY
We see a COOK pick up an egg, crack the egg on top of Newt's head
and empty it into a huge bowl. We MOVE around and down the
customized chair Newt is strapped into, to his right knee; as we
hear another egg crack, Newt's knee jerks up and hits a pedal device
that flips a pancake on a long, conveyor-belt griddle. We follow
the pancakes on the beltway to he end of the line where another COOK
spatulas the pancakes onto the plates of seven ravenous but polite
PATIENTS, all dressed as Jesus, passing the maple syrup back and
forth.
THE JESUSES
(variously)
Thank you, Brother -- you're too
kind -- don't mention it --
Angela enters and moves to the first Cook.
ANGELA
Unstrap Newt, I've got his sock
in the car --
(to Newt)
Time to go home, Newt.
NEWT
Can I pee?
ANGELA
Yes, in just a moment, Newt.
NEWT
(a happy eye-roll)
Rock' em-sock' em.
CUT TO:
INT. SOOTHING BREEZES SANITARIUM - DAY
A door opens, Newt sprints down the hallway and into a door, marked
with the symbol:
Angela cools her heels outside the door.
CUT TO:
EXT. SOOTHING BREEZES SANITARIUM - DAY
Angela and an ORDERLY walk Newt to a waiting van. The Orderly is
steering the meandering, easily distracted Newt by a handle attached
to the back of his jacket. Just above the handle are the
embroidered words:
GIMME FIVE
Angela hands the Orderly a plane ticket.
ANGELA
Be sure to walk him onto the plane
yourself, fasten his seatbelt, remember
to tell the Stewardess no liquids for
Newt and don't let them check his sock,
it's carry on. His cousin Wally will
be there to meet him in newtonville.
(turns to Newt)
Newt, the whole staff will miss you and
I'll miss you, too.
NEWT
Two. Zero. One. Two --
She grabs Newt by the shoulders.
ANGELA
Have a wonderful time at home, Newt.
Angela gives Newt a big kiss; he smiles enigmatically and tries to
deck her with a roundhouse right, which she expertly ducks, and he
completes his compulsive reaction to her kiss with a sly wolf
whistle. The Orderly tightens his grip on Newt's handle. Angela
attaches a large, adhesive badge to Newt's jacket that reads:
HI
MY NAME IS NEWT
ARE YOU MY COUSIN WALLY?
CUT TO:
EXT. OUTER SPACE
The satellite clicks and we see that the digital countdown readout
is t-minus 12:00 and counting.
CUT TO:
EXT. LOADING DOCK - NIGHT
We see the back of a large semi packed solid with large bricks of a
yellow substance, wrapped in waxy paper. A FOREMAN with a clipboard
walks back and forth as the two DRIVERS finish tidying the cargo.
FOREMAN
Boys, you've packed your load/
and it's time to hit the road/
Let the slowpokes eat your dust/
It's Newtonville or bust/
Let the highway be your heyday/
And I'll see you here on payday.
The Drivers, who hate this rhyming business, close and lock the
doors. A picture of a large wheel of bright yellow cheese is
painted on the doors, along with the words:
CHEESE IS MADE FROM MILK
The Drivers move to and enter the cab, as the Foreman works himself
into a rhyming frenzy.
FOREMAN (CONT'D)
Please, boys, please/
Be careful with that cheese/
For the Beefy Cheese Louise/
If anything should happen/
You'll put me in a squeeze/
You'll bring me to my knees/
I could lose all my fees/
Are you sure you've got your keys?
(the truck starts)
Watch out for all those trees!
Hi-ho, hi-ho/
I hate to see you go/
We'll see you back here soon/
Remember: Newtonville by noon!
The truck thunders off into the night, obscuring the last wretched
rhymes of the Post Foreman.
CUT TO:
EXT. NEWTONVILLE CITY LIMITS - NIGHT
A police car is parked behind the sign:
WELCOME TO NEWTONVILLE
LIGHTNING CAPITAL OF THE WORLD ...
WE'RE ZAPPY TO SEE YOU !!!
pop. 43,108
We see a bright flash of lightning in the distance.
CUT TO:
INT. POLICE CAR - NIGHT
DOUGY "SHERLOCK" WATSON, a heavyset, easy-going Highway Patrolman,
sits behind the wheel, looking up at the sky.
DOUGY "SHERLOCK" WATSON
Four hundred and one ...
(pause -- then, more lightning)
Four hundred and two ...
CUT TO:
INT. WALLY NEWTON'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Wally sits catatonically in his overstuffed chair, with his shirt
off, his left arm raised in an uncomfortable position. A big red
rash under his left arm is covered with pink lotion. The room is
strewn with Gordie's toy weapons. Gordie himself is violently
stomping up and down on a newspaper-stuffed dummy/enemy soldier,
screaming as he guts the dummy and plunges the toy knife into its
brainpan. GUCCI-GUCCI, the dreaded Pekingese, is busy rending one
of Wally's argyle socks.
CUT TO:
INT. AIRPLANE - NIGHT
CLOSE on peanuts in the aisle, as we hear a plastic crunching SOUND.
While everyone else sleeps, the Professor futilely struggles to pry
open his salad dressing container with a plastic fork.
CUT TO:
INT. HORTON THURSBY'S ROOM - NIGHT
Horton sits in his '40's noir hotel room, in a sleeveless t-shirt,
boxer shorts and gartered socks, cleaning his massive, chrome-plated
.357 Magnum pistol, staring holes in a picture of Professor
Zinzermacher on the table in front of him. His moll, LORRAINE, an
irresistible, shapely blonde bombshell, lolls on the bed, blowing
kisses to the ceiling and watching them float.
CUT TO:
INT. NEWTONVILLE ROLLER RINK - NIGHT
Randy slowly cleans the concession area. Woody sits at a table near
the rink, playing a beautiful, forlorn county waltz on a steel
guitar. Big Tom is slowly and gracefully skating around the rink
in time to the music.
CUT TO:
EXT. NEWTONVILLE ROLLER RINK - NIGHT
The lights around the big skate on top of the rink turn off. The
distant waltz merges with the crickets.
SLOW FADE OUT:
FADE IN:
EXT. NEWTONVILLE AIRPORT - DAY
A huge lightning rod in the shape of a key sits atop the modest
terminal. A sign on the building reads:
NEWTONVILLE'S
"BEN FRANKLIN"
AIRPORT
THE KEY TO ALL YOUR TRAVEL NEEDS
BEN SAYS, "CHARGE IT!!"
A black stretch limo with a big "A" on the side pulls up in front of
the terminal. The stocky Cockney chauffeur, BOB McNABB, gets out,
and opens the door for his petite and proper wife, ALICE, who gets
out of the passenger side. Both are dressed in yellow uniforms that
sport a big blue "A".
BOB McNABB
Watch your loaf, luv.
ALICE
(middle-class English)
Wait here, Bobby ducks. Back in a
tick with Bert, Mel and the Professor.
BOB McNABB
Standin' by, ready to stab it and steer.
Go on, plant one on me boat. Come on then.
She shyly gives him a kiss on the cheek. He gives her an
affectionate hug and tickle, which makes her giggle. She starts
towards the terminal. Bob admires her small, shapely figure.
BOB McNABB (CONT'D)
What a butcher's; makes me want
to fall to me chips'ns.
CUT TO:
EXT. PARKING LOG - DAY
Wally Newton pulls into a slot, parks and starts digging through the
mass of Gordie's toys, piled high from the front seat to the back.
He retrieves a piece of paper with some flight info on it, stuck to
a huge wad of gum. The array of weaponry and Gordie-and-Polly-
generated filth in the car is staggering.
CUT TO:
INT. BEN FRANKLIN TERMINAL - DAY
Alice moves through the terminal, past a small newsstand. We PICK
UP and STAY WITH Horton Thursby, lurking near the magazine rack. he
sets down the copy of "DETECTIVES IN LOVE MAGAZINE" he was
pretending to read and follows Alice toward the arrival gates.
CUT TO:
A HEINZ 57 COMPANY BANNER
Near an arrival gate. The banner reads:
WELCOME TO OUR 35 NEW
EMPLOYEES FROM LUBBOCK, TEXAS
35 NEW REASONS WHY 57 IS
NUMBER 1
We MOVE off the banner to see Horton walking away, still following
Alice towards the gate. We PICK UP and STAY with Wally, as he
enters through a side door, looking for a trash can. He carries a
large conglomeration of hundreds of pink gum wads and other sticky
car refuse. We stay with Wally until he crosses paths with a group
of thirty-five robust TEXANS, all in goofy, double-knit leisure
suits, carrying briefcases.
Waiting to greet the Texans under the Heinz banner, beside a big
black cauldron are three large CHEFS in white outfits and large
chef's hats, bearing the distinctive, ketchup-red "57" logo.
As the Texans approach, a TAP DANCER dressed as a bottle of Heinz 57
sauce rises out of the cauldron and begins enthusastically tap
dancing to taped musical accompaniment. The Chefs shake the hands
of the happy Texans and hand each of them a large bottle of steak
sauce.
CUT TO:
WALLY
Still looking for a trash can. Near another gate, he passes another
welcoming committee, under another banner that reads:
MAYOR BILLY BENSON IS ZAPPY TO WELCOME
THE RENOWNED CHINESE ACROBATIC TEAM
FROM THE FAR PROVINCES
IT'S VERY RICE TO SEE YOU
MAYOR BILLY BENSON and his wife, DOTTY, stand behind two BATON-
TWIRLING BLONDS and a TRICK DOG jumping back and forth through a
hoop. A Sousa march blares as the CHINESE ACROBATS come off the
plane, all wearing identical Chinese red sweatsuits with Nehru
collars. A great deal of bowing and smiling and unintelligible
greetings ensues.
CUT TO:
EXT. OUTER SPACE
The countdown on the satellite continues: it now reads: 00:10. It
changes to: 00:09.
CUT TO:
INT ARRIVAL GATE - DAY
Wally's at a trash can, trying to dislodge the sticky gum wad from
his hands, when he looks out a window and spots Newt in a crowd of
people exiting a plane down a portable stairway. Instead of
crossing the tarmac to the terminal with the other passengers, Newt
stops at the bottom of the stairs and is quickly left alone.
A concerned STEWARDESS moves towards Newt. He smiles and backs up.
The Stewardess stops, Newt stops. Wally watches. Within moments
half a dozen assorted AIRPORT PERSONNELL are giving chase to Newt,
who gleefully darts in and out around the plane's landing gear.
CUT TO:
HORTON (NEAR ANOTHER GATE)
Positioned behind a column, watching Mel, Bert and the Professor
deplane off the jetway, where they're greeted by Alice. Mel and
Bert are rhythmically bobbing their heads and knees, because they
have to urinate with such urgency their back teeth are floating.
CUT TO:
MEL, BERT, THE PROFESSOR AND ALICE
As the Professor shakes Alice's hand.
HUGO
I am Professor Hugo Zinzermacher.
Hugo your way und I'll go mine.
Alice stares at him. Mel leans over to Bert and whispers.
MEL
I gotta pee so bad I can taste it.
BERT
Me too, Mel. My bladder's stretched
out like a water balloon.
ALICE
Did you check your bag, Professor?
HUGO
Unfortunately no; they took it from
me at the other airport.
Alice stares at him again, nods slowly and turns towards the baggage
claim area.
CUT TO:
HORTON
As Alice, Mel, Bert and the Porfessor pass by, Horton cautiously
follows them.
CUT TO:
EXT. OUTER SPACE
The satellite countdown moves from: 00:04 to 00:03.
CUT TO:
INT. ARRIVAL GATE - DAY
Two burly SECURITY GUARDS carry a rigid, smiling Newt up a jetway
into the terminal to the waiting Wally. Newt sees Wally, points at
him and breaks into a wild, moonbeam smile. The Guards carry him to
Wally.
GUARD #1
Are you his Cousin Wally?
WALLY
Yes, sir, I am. Where's his sock?
The other Guard holds up a bulging grey sock with a red stripe. The
Guards set Newt down. He and Wally immediately start to circle each
other, quickly accelerating into faster and faster revolutions.
They stop at the same time and break into huge, identical grins.
CUT TO:
INT. NEWSSTAND - DAY
SAMMY "THE STOMP" JOHNSON, a middle-aged black musician is buying a
big cigar from the CASHIER behind the counter. He carries a well-
traveled guitar case, stenciled with the words:
SAMMY "THE STOMP" JOHNSON
As he moves on, lighting the stogie, HANK THE BARBER, a tall, thin
man, wearing sleeve garters and a racy bow-tie, exits the Barber
Shop across the corridor and moves towards the newsstand.
CUT TO:
EXT. OUTER SPACE
The satellite countdown moves under: 00:01 and starts counting in
seconds: 00:00:59. The satellite begins emitting a beeping sound
which gradually increases in tempo, pitch and volume. Another panel
slides open and a large, metallic nozzle slides out.
CUT TO:
INT. NEWTONVILLE AIRPORT BAGGAGE CLAIM AREA - DAY
The baggage carousel starts revolving and bags begin to appear. We
see the following groupings: Alice, the Professor, Mel and Bert.
MEL
We'll be right back.
BERT
We're going to the men's room.
They begin fast-bobbing towards the men's room. Sammy "The Stomp"
Johnson waits just to the right of Alice, who takes out a make-up
mirror and powders her nose. Horton lurks behind a nearby column,
watching the Professor.
The Texans and the Chinese Acrobats are on opposite sides of the
carousel, along with their respective welcoming committees.
Wally leads Newt to the carousel, takes off his belt, loops it
though the handle on Newt's jacket and ties it around a column.
NEWT
Can I pee?
WALLY
Soon as I get your bag, Newt.
NEWT
Rock' em-sock'em?
WALLY
(hands Newt his sock)
I'll be right back, Newt. I see your
bag right there.
Wally starts after a plaid bag with a "SOOTHING BREEZES" tag on
it, trying to dart through the Texans to reach the bag before it
disappears.
CUT TO:
EXT. OUTER SPACE
We see the satellite countdown: 00:00:03 / 00:00:02 / 00:00:01
and as it hits 00:00:00 the beeping crescendos and goes
SILENT for one brief moment. Then, the satellite produces
an emission.; a small burst of light shoots from the nozzle
and hear a sound like a sharp slam on a ping-pong ball.
CUT TO:
EXT. OUTER SPACE
HIGH ANGLE, looking down on the United States. The emission, a
short piece of light, enters the earth's atmosphere and heads down
towards Kansas.
CUT TO:
EXT. NEWTONVILLE AIRPORT - DAY
The emission strikes the Ben Franklin key on top of the terminal.
The key lights up and spins.
CUT TO:
INT. NEWTONVILLE AIRPORT BAGGAGE CLAIM AREA - DAY
HIGH ANGLE, looking down on the carousel area. The emission zooms
down, strikes the carousel and a glowing four-way beam in the
shape of a "X" appears. One arm of the "X" connects Horton
Thursby and Wally Newton; the other arm connects Professor Hugo
Zinzermacher and Newt Newton.
The glowing "X" vibrates wildly and spins, sending off small pieces
of the emission in various directions.
One piece hits the group of Texans, bounces over and strikes the
Chinese Acrobats.
Another shard hits Alice, makes a sharp right and slams into Sammy
"The Stomp" Johnson.
A third bolt hits Alice's open make-up mirror, bounces behind her
and nails Mel and Bert just as they open the door to the men's room.
This piece of the emission then hits the mirror in the men's room
and shoots back out into the corridor, striking the Cashier and Hank
the Barber at the newsstand.
The bolt continues out an open door, bounces off the three Heinz 57
Chefs, the tap dancing 57 Sauce Bottle and the Trick Dog, all
standing by the curb, then smacks into the head of Bob McNabb,
sitting behind the wheel of Company "A"'s limo.
From there, the beam spreads out towards all of Newtonville.
The three Chefs, the tap dancing Bottle and the Trick Dog are
suddenly compelled to leap into Bob's limo. And Bob, as if
possessed by the spirit of a mad hot rodder, puts the pedal to the
metal, lays two hundred feet of rubber, slams on the breaks when he
reaches a stop sign, throws it in reverse and comes roaring
backwards through the pick-up area in front of the terminal.
CUT TO:
INT. BAGGAGE CLAIM AREA - DAY
The glowing "X" of light burns brightly; the clothes of the two
opposing pairs fly off and land on the person opposite; Newt now
wears the Professor's clothes and the Professor is wearing Newt's
clothes. Horton Thursby is wearing Wally Newton's clothes and Wally
Newton is wearing the clothes of Horton Thursby. Newt's sock flies
into the Professor's hand. He immediately drops it. Horton's .357
Magnum flies across and lands in Wally's hand. He immediately drops
it.
The "X" hits another level of intensity and now the two pairs
literally change places; Newt Newton, in the Professor's clothes,
now stands next to Alice. He leans down and picks up his sock. The
Professor is in Newt's clothes, strapped to the column. Wally wears
Horton's clothes, lurking behind a column and Horton wears Wally's
clothes, looking for Newt's bag. Horton bends down, picks up his
Magnum and sticks it in the waistband of his pants.
The "X" hits its brightest level and completely EVAPORATES. The
carousel makes a stressful, screeching sound.
Newt, the Professor, Wally and Horton blink their eyes and shake
their heads, feeling confused.
For no reason they can understand, the Texans are compelled to march
en mass to the other side of the carousel, just as the Chinese
acrobats, equally befuddled and compelled, walk around to where they
Texans were standing.
Alice and Sammy "The Stomp" Johnson are still standing side by side.
However, their positions have been reversed, she's wearing his
sharkskin suit and aviator shades and he's wearing her Company "A"
dress suit.
The carousel stops suddenly, smoking slightly. Stunned silence.
Mayor Billy Benson is the first person who rouses himself enough to
speak. He makes a few strange noises, before squeezing out the
words ...
MAYOR BILLY BENSON
It-it-it-it-it was only lightning.
Stay c-c-c-c-calm.
The crowd, instantly reassured and pathetically grateful for this
convenient explanation, murmurs, as one ...
CROWD
It was only lightning.
The carousel slowly starts to revolve again. People begin to move
forward to claim their luggage.
CUT TO:
INT. MEN'S ROOM
Mel and Bert, who had been frozen near the door, shake their heads
clear and bob to the urinals.
CUT TO:
INT. NEWSSTAND
Hank the Barber picks up a newspaper and hands it to the Cashier.
CASHIER
The Hank, usual?
HANK THE BARBER
Bet you.
The Cashier takes the paper, opens the cash register drawer and
tries to stuff the newspaper inside. Meanwhile, Hank unwraps a
candy bar and smears it in a tight circle on his forehead, near the
third eye area. The Cashier takes out a handful of nickels and
dimes, holds out his arm and throws the coins onto the corridor
floor. The Barber and the Cashier look at each other for a moment
with a look of complete blankness. The Barber spins violently and
storms back to the Barbershop.
CUT TO:
EXT. CITY LIMITS - DAY
The satellite emission beam zips towards the "Welcome to
Newtonville" sign, hits the city limits, stops dead, glows brightly
for a second, then disappears with a loud pop. A moment later, a
semi-tractor trailer barrels down the highway, entering Newtonville.
On it's back doors we see the words:
CHEESE IS MADE FROM MILK
CUT TO:
EXT. THE PENTAGON - DAY
High angle. Stock shot. Establish.
CUT TO:
INT. PENTAGON CORRIDOR - DAY
CLOSE on a high-tech security door, with a sign that reads:
SDI
SECTION FOUR
CODE SIX CLEARANCE REQUIRED
CUT TO:
INT. SDI SECTION FOUR - DAY
MOVING along a heavily instrumented control panel, we come to rest
on a blinking, and as yet undetected, red warning light. Printing
above the light reads:
RANDOM COLL. DEEP SPACE EMISSION
CUT TO:
INT. NEWTONVILLE AIRPORT BAGGAGE CLAIM AREA - DAY
Horton-as-Wally, undoes the belt that holds the Professor-as-Newt to
the column. He hands the plaid bag to the Professor.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
Time to go, Newt.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
Where?
HORTON-AS-WALLY
(slight pause)
To the Manor?
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
I thought we would go to the ... Institute.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
You just came from the Institute.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
Oh, I see.
They start towards an exit.
CUT TO:
INT. BAGGAGE CLAIM
Sammy "The Stomp"-as-Alice takes Newt-as-the-Professor by the arm.
SAMMY "THE STOMP"-AS-ALICE
This way, Professor Zinzermacher.
Newt-as-the-Professor smiles, grips his sock and they march towards
the exit. Stepping out from behind the column, Wally-as-Horton
shadows them.
CUT TO:
EXT. AIRPORT -DAY
Sammy "The Stomp"-as-Alice and Newt-as-the-Professor exit the
terminal to the white zone and stop at the curb. Wally-as-Horton
exits after them, hanging back behind a trolly of luggage. A moment
later the Company "A" limousine rockets by, the top of the Tap
Dancing 57 Bottle sticks out of the sunroof. The limo screeches to
a halt at the same stop sign, then shoots back past the white zone
again, 70 mph in reverse, tires smoking and screaming.
SAMMY "THE STOMP"-AS-ALICE
(after the limo passes)
What is my husband doing?
Newt-as-the-Professor stares blissfully. Mel and Bert come hustling
out of the terminal. Due to the peculiar nature of the satellite
emission, they, along with everyone else affected by it, are only
dimly aware that any changes have occurred.
MEL
Sorry we're late, Alice.
A slight pause. They both look at her somewhat curiously, then
dismiss whatever doubt might have arisen.
MEL (CONT'D)
We were bobbin' like a cork.
BERT
We'd been holding our water since Zurich.
The limo roars by yet again at 95 mph.
MEL
Where's Bob going?
Sammy "The Stomp"-as-Alice takes out a white hankie, steps to the
curb. He speaks in his voice, but with Alice's accent and
vocabulary.
SAMMY "THE STOMP"-AS-ALICE
(waving the hankie)
Yoo-hoo! Bobby! Ducks! Oh, ducks, come
right over here now, we're all ready to go.
The limo screams back into view, stops on a dime. Bob McNabb is a
desperate man, a vessel for a twisted A.J. Foyt from Hell. His
"good" side controls the foot on the break, the "demonic" side pumps
the accelerator like Buddy Righ assaulting his bass drum pedal. The
entire car shakes and smokes like a dragster on the starting line.
BOB McNABB
(eyes popping)
Jump in, Mates, and make it snappy;
I'm ridin' a rhino in a brushfire.
Doors fly open, Mel and Bert lift Newt-as-the-Professor into the
back seat with them, wedging in between the Chefs and the Tap
Dancing Bottle. Stricken with a profound love, the Trick Dog
instantly leaps into Newt-as-the-Professor's arms. Equally
infatuated, Newt-as-the-Professor grabs the little Dog's cheeks and
they smile at each other, point blank. Sammy "The Stomp"-as-Alice
climbs into the front seat beside Bob.
SAMMY "THE STOMP"-AS-ALICE
(a bit stern)
Robby-ducks, remind me to speak to you
about your tea consumption. It seems
to be affecting your driving --
Bob can't hold back the surge any longer and the limo leaps forward
like a cheetah on the trail of a leaping ibex. Wally-as-Horton comes
forward to the curb, hails a cab, jumps in the back and says to the
DRIVER
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Follow that limo!
The cab starts after the limo.
CUT TO:
EXT. PARKING LOT - DAY
The Professor-as-Newt stands by, as Horton-as-Wally opens the door
to Wally's car. Enraged with revulsion, he reaches in and with two
or three violent motions sweeps Gordie's toys and Polly's garbage
out of the car, spraying it into the parking lot.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
What a load a' crap.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
So it would seem.
Horton-as-Wally looks at him askance for a moment, then opens the
door for the Professor-as-Newt, places him in the front seat and
fastens his seat belt.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT (CONT'D)
I have a feeling we're not in Zurich
anymore.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
You said a mouthful there, buddy.
Horton-as-Wally starts the car and they drive off.
CUT TO:
INT. LIMOUSINE - DAY
The limo zooms towards an intersection. The light ahead turns red.
Bob slams on the breaks. The passengers tumble like ten-pins. Bob
throws the limo into reverse and floors it. The passengers, just
regaining their balance, get thrown again.
CUT TO:
INT. CAB - DAY
The Taxi Driver reacts in horror as the limo shoots backwards towards
him. Panicked, he puts the cab in reverse and floors it. Wally-as-
Horton holds on for dear life.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Did we do something wrong?
CAB DRIVER
(nonchalant)
I see this sort'a stuff every day;
the whole world's comin' apart.
The limo shoots back past them, swerves, does a 360 and heads back
straight for them. The Cab Driver shifts back to drive and burns
rubber, the limo right on his rear fender.
CAB DRIVER (CONT'D)
I gotta admit though, this one's somethin'
special.
The cab is pushed forward down the road by the limo. They disappear
over the crest of a hill.
CUT TO:
EXT. NEWTON MANOR - DAY
A palatial estate, high on a hill, hard by the sixteenth tee of the
Newtonville Country Club golf course. A sign reads:
NEWTON MANOR
CUT TO:
INT. NEWTON MANOR ENTRYWAY - DAY
In the grand foyer, at the base of a grand, circular staircase,
TIDMAN, a nervous, middle-aged, slightly disheveled butler is
addressing the assembled Manor STAFF.
TIDMAN
As you know ... Newt ... is coming home.
He will be arriving momentarily. You
will recall two years ago, due to a
former employee's negligence, one of
the garages was not secured. Newt
crawled into the workings of the furnace;
during the six months it took to undo
his handiwork we suffered through the
coldest winter in recent memory. Black
smoke issued from the faucets. Boiling
water was found in the toilets. Thermostat
circuitry was hardwired to all the baking
ovens. Yes, as a result Chef Pierre did
develop his "Jiffy Baked Alaska", which
we've all enjoyed, he also developed a
rare skin disorder from working in the
113 degree kitchen.
A sheepish CHEF PIERRE, wearing heavy medical mittens and hat with
asbestos ear flaps, shrugs.
CHEF PIERRE
Cis la'vie.
TIDMAN
I want the following words engraved in
the core of your beings: this year there
will be no such incidents. If air can
reach a hidden place, so can Newt. If water
can flow through a crack, there too Newt
will go. Readiness. Vigilance. Perseverance.
May God be with us all.
CUT TO:
INT./EXT. MANOR HOUSE - DAY
Quick CUTS: Fine crockery's locked in high cabinets. Hallway closet
doors are nailed shut. Iron grates are padlocked over air ducts.
In the garage, a steel box is lowered by winch over the Rolls. In
the basement, a GUARD takes his post in front of the new furnace.
CUT TO:
EXT. MANOR HOUSE - DAY
The electric gates swing open. Horton-as-Wally drives Wally's car
up the circular drive to the front walk. Tidman approaches the car,
flanked by a pair of Orderlies -- IKE and MIKE -- built like
refrigerators. Tidman opens the door, Ike and Mike stand by to
pounce. The Professor-as-Newt looks up at them and smiles. Horton-
as-Wally gets out on the driver's side.
TIDMAN
(a big cheesy smile)
Welcome home, Master Newt. Hello, Wally.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
Who are the goons?
TIDMAN
Help for you-know-who. Come along,
Newt, we've got the Rocking Horse
room all ready for you.
The Orderlies lift the Professor-as-Newt out of the car. He smiles
at them benignly.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
Two big assistants. This is good.
TIDMAN
(shocked, to Wally)
What a tremendous improvement.
(goes to the Professor-as-Newt)
Can you say anything else?
THE-PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
As I was saying to Bert and Mel,
if we relate the vector on a
parallelogram, allowing the azimuth to
intersect but not confirm the dimensional
factors contributing to the parameters of
the logarithmic module, it won't
necessarily be a part of it.
Tidman turns back to Wally, almost relieved.
TIDMAN
Still an idiot.
He gestures to the Goons. One of them picks up the Professor-as-
Newt by the handle on his coat, the other takes his plaid bag.
TIDMAN (CONT'D)
Where's his sock?
(he shushes himself)
Never mind, let's not upset him.
(quietly to Horton-as-Welly)
We've got duplicates.
Tidman is ready to lead the others into the Manor, when he realizes
Horton-as-Wally is still standing there.
TIDMAN (CONT'D)
You didn't want to ... come in,
did you, Wally?
HORTON-AS-WALLY
What did you say?
TIDMAN
(shocked, instantly cowed)
I said, would you like to come in?
HORTON-AS-WALLY
What would I want to go in there
for? I got a home of my own, pal.
Horton-as-Wally cooly gets into the car and drives away. Tidman
frowns, perplexed, then escorts the Goons and the Professor-as-Newt
into the Manor.
CUT TO:
INT. NEWTON MANOR - DAY
Tidman leads the Professor-as-Newt, his feet barely touching the
floor, half-carried by Ike and Mike, into the grand foyer. The
Manor Staff is assembled like shock troops about to charge enemy
trenches. Some wear chest protectors, others shin guards, a few
carry cans of Mace and stun guns. The Professor-as-Newt smiles at
them with growing excitement.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
(to Tidman)
If you could show me to my room
I'll start work immediately.
TIDMAN
(apprehensive)
What did you have planned, Master
Newt?
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
As you know from my letters, I hope
to make a massive breakthrough. It
came to me while contemplating a
large, smooth concrete floors.
TIDMAN
Very good, Master Newt.
(aside, to an Aide)
Get Gordon Cole on the phone; I want
a complete inventory of all our floor
systems.
The Aid moves off, Ike and Mike start carting the Professor-as-Newt
up the grand staircase.
CUT TO:
EXT. COMPANY "A" - DAY
A massive office building, across the street from and nearly
identical to Company "B". On the roof is a gigantic yellow:
"A"
The limo tears up in a series of short, brutal stops and starts.
Tremendous grinding SOUNDS, billowing smoke, the throttle wide open,
fan belt screaming.
SAMMY "THE STOMP"-AS-ALICE
Get out quick before he kills us.
(screams at Bob)
NO MORE TEA! I'll speak with you at home.
Mel and Bert quickly help Newt-as-the Professor out of the limo.
Newt-as-the Professor and the Trick Dog still cling to each other.
Sammy "The Stomp"-as-Alice is the last one out, before the limo
explodes backwards away from the curb, the three Chefs and the Tap
Dancing Bottle still trapped inside. PASSERS-BY cover their ears at
the excruciatingly deafening SOUND of engine and tires.
CUT TO:
THE TAXI
Stopped across the street. The Taxi Driver hoses down his flaming
engine with a fire extinguisher, while Wally-as-Horton takes out a
pair of binoculars and looks through them ...
INTERCUT:
WALLY-AS-HORTON'S POV - BINOCULAR MATTE
We see Sammy "The Stomp"-as-Alice, Mel, Bert and Newt-as-the
Professor enter a side door in the Company "A" building. The door
is flanked by two UNIFORMED GUARDS. Wally-as-Horton moves the
binoculars up to read the sign above the door:
C.A.N.A.P.E.
Center for Advanced Nucleacly Arbitrary Permutation Experimentation
A DIVISION OF COMPANY A
Wally-as-Horton lowers the binoculars, puts them in his pocket. He
takes a matchbook and a pack of cigarettes out, lights one up like a
nerd version of James Dean, inhales deeply, plunging himself into a
spasmodic coughing jag. He jettisons the cigarette into the gutter
and while trying to recatch his breath, he notices the printing on
the matchbook:
VINNIE'S LIGHTNING ROD
A glimmer of confused memory flits across his features. He reaches
under his coat and gingerly scratches his rash.
CUT TO:
INT. COMPANY "A" CANAPE CORRIDOR - DAY
Bert and Mel follow Sammy "The Stomp"-as-Alice and Newt-as-the
Professor through automatic-opening, glass, sliding doors, bordered
in red suede. On the doors are the words:
C.A.N.A.P.E
TOP SECRET
As they move through the doors, CAMERA drifts to find Mr. Posthole,
the Company "B" spy, lurking in the corridor. He smiles, as he
watches them enter the clean room.
CUT TO:
INT. CANAPE CLEAN ROOM - DAY
Inside the "clean room" reception area are assembled the top brass
of Company "A", forming a reception line to greet them, all gently
bobbing their heads. The President, DELBERT CORRIGAN, a young,
dandified, old-money Ivy leaguer, gives Sammy "The Stomp"-as-Alice a
slightly strange look.
SAMMY "THE STOMP"-AS-ALICE
Gentlemen, may I present Professor Hugo
Zinzermacher.
Polite applause. Newt-as-the Professor beams, still holding the
Trick Dog in one hand and his dirty, bulging sock in the other.
Delbert Corrigan steps forward to shake his hand, accompanied by his
young, blonde bombshell wife, SIMONE.
SAMMY "THE STOMP"-AS-ALICE
Professor, I'd like you to meet the
President of Company "A", Mr. Delbert
Corrigan and his lovely wife, Simone.
Corrigan shakes Newt-as-the Professor's hand. Newt-as-the Professor
won't let go, happily pumping away.
DELBERT CORRIGAN
This is one of the proudest moments
of my life. I can safely say I speak
for everyone here when I tell you that
with you pulling your oar in our shell
we'll be at the mouth of the Charles
before you can sing three bars of the
Whiffenpoof song. Just dandy.
(getting a little uncomfortable)
What a darling little pooch.
(Newt-as-the-Professor continues
to smile blankly and shake his hand)
Do you know my wife, Simone?
Simone, in a devastating little Chanel number, steps forward.
SIMONE
(bad Radcliffe French)
Professor, je suis tres heureux a faire
votre connaissance.
She grips Newt-as-the Professor by the shoulders and kisses him on
both cheeks. His eyes light up like a pinball machine, he rears
back and throws a roundhouse right. Simon and Delbert, using their
good genetic reflexes, both shy back in shock. The punch sails past
them and lands squarely on Mel's nose with a resounding SMACK.
Mel grabs his broken honker, tears squirt from his eyes. He grabs
the nearest wall and a piercing, high-pitched, one-note wail of
contained agony escapes from him. Mel turns back around.
BERT
(stunned)
The Professor hit Mel.
Holding his nose, Mel turns back to them, in extreme pain and
feeling somehow responsible for it.
MEL
I must have provoked him.
Everyone else is still speechless.
NEWT-AS-THE PROFESSOR
(looking around)
Can I pee?
DELBERT CORRIGAN
(trying to smile)
Yes, C.A.N.A.P.E.
(he refers to his CANAPE security badge)
And please be assured, the Center for Advanced
Nucleacly Arbitrary Permutation Experimentation
is absolutely thrilled to have you here. Please,
be assured of this.
Hiding behind her husband, eyes darting nervously, Simone tries to
light a cigarette, her hands shaking like a frog on a hot plate.
NEWT-AS-THE PROFESSOR
Can I pee?
DELBERT CORRIGAN
(slight pause)
What is it, exactly, that you're
confused about?
Newt-as-the-Professor makes a fast beeline to the nearby men's room,
clearly marked with the following symbol:
Mel and Bert quickly confer.
MEL
That could explain a lot.
BERT
We should'a let him go when we
got off the plane.
They both quickly turn to Delbert Corrigan.
MEL
We should'a let him go when he
got off the plane.
SAMMY "THE STOMP"-AS-ALICE
(also trying to explain)
One must continually bear in mind that
these geniuses are a queer lot.
DELBERT CORRIGAN
(the "good sport")
I've a few eccentrics swinging from my own
family tree. If he delivers the "massive
breakthrough" he's promised in correspondence,
believe you me, we'll put up with the best
the Professor can muster in the Peculiar
Behavior Department.
From inside the bathroom, we hear the Trick Dog happily barking in a
conversational way, as if talking to Newt-as-the-Professor. A
moment later the door opens and a big, black puff of smoke rolls
into the room.
CUT TO:
EXT. PENTAGON - DAY
The same stock shot.
CUT TO:
INT. SDI SECTION FOUR - DAY
A CORPORAL stares at the blinking red warning light we saw earlier
under the words:
RANDOM COLL. DEEP SPACE EMISSION
The Corporal flicks the bulb once or twice, makes sure it's not
malfunctioning. It continues to blink, unabated. The Corporal
takes out a key, unlocks a small box, opens it, flicks the switch
inside. The blinking red light turns green, continues to blink,
turns back to red, rotates and a small telephone slides out of a
panel beneath it. The Corporal picks up the phone, without taking
his eyes off the still blinking light.
CORPORAL
(trying to remain calm)
Put me through to Colonel Mofler ...
(pause)
Colonel Mofler? ... Corporal Gumm.
Sir, we've got a tuna on the line.
Yes, sir, a verified tuna.
CUT TO:
INT. COLONEL MOFLER'S OFFICE - DAY
Colonel Mofler sits at his desk, holding the phone.
COLONEL MOFLER
Thank you, Corporal. I don't need to
remind you this is Code Six ...
He hangs up, grimly takes a key from his desk, inserts it into a
lock on the edge of his desk. The desk top slides open, revealing a
large red book emblazoned with the word:
FISH
Colonel Mofler pages through the book. We see subheadings that
read: TROUT, HALIBUT, GROUPER, ANCHOVIE, MACKERAL. He comes to a
page that reads: TUNA. He read something that shocks him.
COLONEL MOFLER
Holy jumping George ...
CUT TO:
INT. SITUATION ROOM - DAY
GENERAL CONRAD stands at the head of the long conference table. A
pack of very cool GENERALS with the Right Stuff are gathered around.
A number of large, stuffed, mounted fish adorn the knotty-pine
walls.
GENERAL CONRAD
(high fury)
A TUNA!!?? A TUNA!!??
COLONEL MOFLER
(also standing, data in hand)
Yes, Sir, prelim's indicate an
albacore ...
GENERAL CONRAD
That's white meat!!!
COLONEL MOFLER
Yes, Sir; an emission.
GENERAL CONRAD
ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME THAT THING
PEED!!!!????
COLONEL MOFLER
Yes, Sir, a contained pinpoint emission
somewhere in Friendly Delta Forty.
GENERAL CONRAD
(covers his eyes in despair)
FRIENDLY!! GAHHHH!!
(questions the others)
Delta? Delta Forty?
The other Generals calmly confer. The group's spokesman, GENERAL
THRASHER, turns to General Conrad.
GENERAL THRASHER
Kansas.
GENERAL CONRAD
It peed on Kansas? THAT THING PEED
ON KANSAS!!!???
COLONEL MOFLER
Sir ... uh, should we notify, uh, the,
uh, Commander in, uh, Chief?
General Conrad looks at the red phone on the table in front of him.
He picks up the entire instrument and then bangs it on the table
with increasing intensity. The other Generals don't move a muscle,
brimming over with the Right Stuff
GENERAL CONRAD
NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!!!!!!
General Conrad does a backflip and lands heavily, out of sight, with
the SOUND of major fracturing. The other Generals respond with
slight head shakes, sympathetic whistles and other small,
compassionate gestures.
A GENERAL
(pause, calmly)
Mofler, call an ambulance.
CUT TO:
EXT. VINNIE'S LIGHTNING ROD - DAY
The wounded Taxi limps up to the door. Wally-as-Horton gets out of
the cab and cautiously enters the Rod.
CUT TO:
INT. VINNIE'S LIGHTNING ROD - DAY
Pearlescant stucco and a persistent South Seas motif; weathered rope
nets, varnished blowfish lamps, dusty spears and shields. The
CUSTOMERS, a hardboiled bunch of sleazy criminal types, freeze in
their tracks when Wally-as-Horton enters and tentatively makes his
way across the room; the denizens part for him like the Red Sea.
VINNIE, the short, stocky, balding proprietor, behind the bar is the
only person who dares to speak to him.
VINNIE
Hey, Horton. What's happening?
WALLY-AS-HORTON
(stops, terrified but handling it)
Not much. What's happening with you ...
Vinnie?
He looks at Vinnie with some confusion.
VINNIE
(clearly frightened of him)
Not much.
Wally-as-Horton nods and continues on. He passes a booth full of
four GANGSTERS, clearly a few notches tougher than the bar's other
customers. Their leader, JIMMY "CRAWLIN" UNDERWOOD, a big Irishman,
rises as Wally-as-Horton approaches. Wally-as-Horton's knees shake
and he smiles politely. The whole room tensely watches the
following exchange.
UNDERWOOD
(timidly)
Me and the boys was wondering what a
guy named Mr. Biggs is doing up in
front of your apartment.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Why didn't you ask him?
UNDERWOOD
(self-deprecating laugh)
Okay, Horton, sure, it's none of our
business, you know us, always lookin'
for a taste of the action.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Would you like me to ask him for you,
Mr. Underwood?
UNDERWOOD
(severe anxiety, backing up)
No, no, come on, Horton, you know us,
we're not tryin' to muscle in, you're
the man, you call the shots.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
I'm going upstairs now.
UNDERWOOD
Sure, Horton, sure. So, same time
for drinks tonight, huh Horton?
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Why not, Mr. Underwood?
They look at each other uncertainly. Wally-as-Horton exits up a
rear stairway and the room comes back to life. Underwood returns to
the table full of Gangsters.
GANGSTER #1
(an Italian)
What'd he say?
UNDERWOOD
(talking tough)
Something stinks, big. Pew. He kept
calling my Mr. Underwood.
GANGSTER #2
(a black guy)
That's your name.
Underwood twists Gangster #2's nose.
UNDERWOOD
Mr. Schmaty Pants: my name's Jimmy!
That guy, maybe he's been on top too
long. Lemme tell you something; the
bigger they are, the harder they fall.
(the Gangsters mutter agreement)
Hey Vinnie, how 'bout a round a'
cheeseburgers?
GANGSTER #3
(a Mexican guy)
Con mucho queso.
The other Gangsters grunt their approval.
VINNIE
(in front of the open fridge)
Sorry, gents, looks like we're fresh outta
cheese.
The Gangsters raise a ruckus, each in his own dialectical style.
CUT TO:
INT. VINNIE'S SECOND FLOOR - DAY
Wally-as-Horton reaches the top of the stairs. Mr. Biggs steps out
of the shadows, flanked by two big BODYGUARDS in Company "B"
jumpsuits. Their heads are bobbing like Bert and Mel's were before
they peed at the airport.
MR. BIGGS
So? Has the deed been done?
WALLY-AS-HORTON
(fearfully thinking on his feet)
I'm going to march right out there
and engage the enemy.
MR. BIGGS
Every second that genius' brain is working
for Company "A", a fog of trouble engulfs
our enterprise in a cloud of uncertainty.
(moves closer)
One twenty-five cent bullet, Mr. Thuraby,
delivered in a timely fashion, will spell
victory for Company "B"
WALLY-AS-HORTON
And I'll bet there's no butts about it.
MR. BIGGS
I think we understand each other.
Mr. Biggs heads down the stairs, followed by his bobbing Bodyguards.
Wally-as-Horton quickly ducks into the door of Horton's apartment.
CUT TO:
INT. HORTON'S APARTMENT - DAY
Wally-as-Horton shuts the door, leans back against it, gulping air.
He turns on a light and finds himself staring at two huge gun racks,
one for rifles, one for pistols. Wally-as-Horton hyperventilates,
terrorized. He takes off his jacket and is shocked to see himself
wearing an empty shoulder holster.
CUT TO:
EXT. WALLY'S HOUSE - DAY
Horton-as-Wally pulls into the driveway in Wally's car. He gets
out, heads for the front door. We hear the ferocious yapping of
Gucci-Gucci the Pekingese and a moment later it bursts through the
underbrush and makes a beeline for Horton-as-Wally. Horton-as-Wally
turns and his gaze narrows menacingly just as Gucci-Gucci leaps up
at his face for the kill.
In mid-flight, the look in Horton-as-Wally's eyes register in Gucci-
Gucci's little mind. Gucci-Gucci puts on the brakes and stops in
mid-air, inches from Horton-as-Wally's face, lingers there a moment,
then retreats along the same trajectory, with a squeal of total
capitulation.
Gucci-Gucci rolls over and surrenders, begging for mercy. Horton-
as-Wally snaps his fingers. Gucci-Gucci leaps up into his arms and
obsequiously slathers Horton-as-Wally's face with Gucci-Gucci
devotion.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
(to Gucci-Gucci)
In China they eat dogs.
Gucci-Gucci freezes and puts its paws over its eyes.
HORTON-AS-WALLY (CONT'D)
Lucky for you we're not in China.
Horton-as-Wally drops Gucci-Gucci and enters the house. Gucci-Gucci
heels after him like a dog with a PhD from Rin-Tin-tin University.
CUT TO:
INT. WALLY'S HOUSE - DAY
Horton-as-Wally enters. With an Apache war whoop, Gordie leaps
around a corner, pointing a toy pistol at Horton-as-Wally. With
reflexes faster than a jungle cat, Horton-as-Wally whips out his
huge, chrome-plated .357 Magnum, puts the barrel against Gordie's
forehead and kicks his legs out from under him. Gordie hits the
floor like a sack of rocks, Horton-as-Wally kicks the toy pistol
away, puts his foot on Gordie's neck and bends Gordie's nose back
with the Magnum.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
Didn't anyone ever tell you it's
dangerous to play with firearms?
Gordie is shocked into a semi-coma of terror, whimpering like a lost
baby seal. We hear Polly coming before she turns the corner.
POLLY
Wally, did you remember to pick up
the cheese for the wine and cheese--
(she turns the corner and sees them)
WALLY!!! GET OFF MY CHILD THIS INSTANT!!
WHAT ARE YOU DOING!! I'LL KNOCK YOU INTO
THE MIDDLE OF NEXT WEEK!!!
Horton-as-Wally's head slowly turns towards her like a robot's. His
cold steel eyes meet hers.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
What did you say?
POLLY
YOU ARE IN SERIOUS, SERIOUS TROUBLE,
MISTER !! I'LL SPANK YOUR BOTTOM SO
HARD YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO SIT FOR A --
Horton-as-Wally shoots out an arm with the speed of a cobra, snares
her adam's apple between his thumb and forefinger and lifts her
gently, sliding her up the wall.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
That's ... enough.
She faints dead away. Gordie, afraid to move a muscle, watches them
out of the corner of his eye. Gucci-Gucci sits obediently at
Horton-as-Wally's feet, wagging its tail and smiling, gazing up at
him with blind adoration.
CUT TO:
EXT. NEWTONVILLE ROLLER RINK - DAY
The wheels on the neon skate are revolving slightly faster than the
last time we saw them.
CUT TO:
INT. NEWTONVILLE ROLLER RINK - DAY
Country-waltz music. The rink has a few dozen skaters, all pushing
themselves forward with a strange and somehow familiar bobbing
motion. Over at the SKATE CHECK-OUT desk, a sweating, beaming Big
Tom is distributing skates to an eager crowd; his ability to supply
barely keeping up with demand. We hear comments from the CROWD:
CROWD
(variously)
Boy, I haven't been skating in years ...
you know I must have driver by this
place a hundred times and this is the
first time I even noticed it was here ...
hey, Jane, you come here often? ... it's
the strangest thing; I was just standing
there holding the baby and I suddenly
got this urge to skate; I ended up bringing
the baby-sitter ... I take a nine, Big Tom ...
Woody sits at the adding machine, ecstatically cranking out numbers
and banking cash.
WOODY
This is not bad business for a Thursday.
RANDY'S VOICE
How many lumps, Woody?
WOODY
ONE!!! RANDY, ONE!!!
RANDY'S VOICE
One lump, coming up, Woody.
WOODY
(embittered, to himself)
Sure thing, Mister Memory.
CUT TO:
INT. ROLLERRINK KITCHEN - DAY
A bunch of KIDS on skates are clustered around the snack counter,
all bobbing their heads. Randy is adding a lump of sugar to a cup
of coffee like Madame Curie handling uranium.
THE KIDS
Hey, Randy, six Beefy Cheese Louise ...
man, I'm so hungry I could eat a horse ...
me, too ... me three and I just ate lunch ...
me, too ...
RANDY
How many?
THE KIDS
SIX!!
Randy nods and his head starts to bob, somewhat erratically. He
goes to the Beefy Cheese Louise fridge, opens it. The patties are
brown and naked. No cheese in sight.
Randy doesn't change his expression. He closes the fridge, paces
back and forth, reopens the fridge, looks at the cheeseless patties
again and makes a high whining sound.
We hear three loud beeps from a TRUCK HORN. Big Tom calls out to
Woody.
BIG TOM
Cheese truck's here.
WOODY
I got it.
Woody rises, starts towards the back. Randy stares at the fridge,
filled with the wonder of life.
RANDY
What a coincidence.
CUT TO:
EXT. ROLLER RINK LOADING DOCK - DAY
The Drivers are swinging open the rear doors of the cheese truck.
Woody's face falls when he looks inside. The Drivers look at each
other, then a Woody.
The truck is empty. No cheese. White wax paper printed with the
words "CHEESE IS MADE FROM MILK" wafts in the breeze.
DRIVER #2
That damn truck was filled with cheese.
DRIVER #1
Where's that much cheese gonna go?
WOODY
(fighting back panic)
You want to try to explain this to
me and a barnload of hungry skaters?
Out of the Drivers shakes his head, gently kicks a rock.
WOODY (CONT'D)
HMMM??!!
CUT TO:
EXT. NEWTONVILLE HEINZ 57 PLANT - DAY
We see a banner in the plaza in front of the building:
WELCOME TO OUR 35 NEW
EMPLOYEES FROM LUBBOCK, TEXAS
35 NEW REASONS WHY 57 IS
NUMBER 1
A dais is set up under the banner. A relentlessly cheerful HEINZ
VICE PRESIDENT is making a speech into a microphone, to the Heinz
EMPLOYEES gathered in the plaza.
HEINZ VP
(head bobbing slightly)
It's the start of a brand new tomorrow
today and what a beautiful day it is.
The sun is shining brightly on Heinz 57.
We've got the welcome mat out today --
The microphone picks up a loud rumbling from the VP's stomach.
HEINZ VP (CONT'D)
--wo, 'scuse me, guess I'm running on
empty -- good thing for me we've got the
Welcome Lunch out, too.
(enthusiastic applause)
Good thing for me and for the thirty-five
new reasons why Heinz 57 is Number One.
Now I understand you folks are all from
Lubbock, is that right?
We now see the thirty-five Chinese acrobats in their Chinese red
sweatsuits, standing at the front of the crowd. They all rapidly
confer in an obscure Chinese dialect, then a SPOKESMAN steps forward
and beams proudly.
SPOKESMAN
Rubbock.
Applause from the crowd.
CUT TO:
EXT. THE RIALTO THEATRE - DAY
A STAGEHAND bobs his head while plastering up a bill on a wall
outside the theater:
OPENS TONIGHT
THE FABULOUS CHINESE ACROBATS
FROM THE FAR PROVINCES
As he finishes a delivery truck pulls up. Lettering on the side
reads:
LIGHTNING FAST CHINESE
The non-Chinese Delivery Man gets out, carrying a very large box of
Chinese food in the familiar cardboard buckets.
STAGEHAND
Weren't you just here?
NON-CHINESE DELIVERY MAN
They phoned up for more.
Off screen we hear a horrendous screeching and squealing. The
Delivery man hurries across the street and enters the theater. A
moment later the Company "A" limo flies by, lurching and bucking
like a harpooned whale.
CUT TO:
INT. BACKSTAGE - DAY
The thirty-five, leisure-suited Texans are spread out all over the
stage, wolfing down Chinese food like there's no tomorrow. Empty
cardboard buckets litter the area. In b.g., the Delivery Man
distributes more buckets from his big box.
THE TEXANS
(variously)
Damn; finish one a' these, two
minutes go by it's like I never et ...
stuff sure don't stick to your ribs ...
stuff's startin' to talk back to me ...
this beer wash' it down real good ...
'question is, how far down's it gonna
go? ... and will it stay there, pa'dner ...
sompin' tells me this stuff'll repeat on ya ...
ROGER, the light-in-the-loafers Stage Manager minces on state,
bobbing his head in an esthetic way.
ROGER
(clapping his hands)
All right, girls, chop-chop --
(points to his watch)
Clockse say time for rehearsee,
I'm not getting any younger, the
band's paid by the hour -- down
with the food, on with the tights --
The Texans stare at him balefully. A large one rises, puts a hand
on Roger's shoulder, towering over him and turns to the group.
TEXAN #1
What do you think, boys? Should we kill him?
ROGER
Ooh, quell macho behind the Bamboo
Curtain -- Roger read you loud and
clear, you angry Samurai; time to
zippee my lippee.
He mimes zipping and locking his lips, then throws away the "key".
Roger turns to the BAND, in the pit, and mouths the words:
ROGER (CONT'D)
Play something!
The Band lurches into a loony Chinese overture. As if hypnotized,
all the Texans drop their food containers, run to prearranged spots
on the stage, roll their socks up over the bottom of their pants
legs and bow to each other.
Half the troupe leans down and form stirrups with their hands. The
other half of the troupe take lumbering runs at them and strain one
foot up into the stirrup.
With agonized, muscle-ripping heaves, the runners are clumsily
lifted in unison a few inches into the air and fall as one to the
stage, landing on their backs like felled redwoods.
ROGER (CONT'D)
Ooh.
CUT TO:
INT. PENTAGON SITUATION ROOM - DAY
Doors open and General Conrad is wheeled into the room on a mobile
rig. The General wears a full-body cast, stuck in a position like a
freeze frame of someone being tossed into a swimming pool.
The other Generals, seated as before around the table, give low-key,
respectful greeting. An AIDE stands behind each of the Generals,
holding a stack of computer printout data.
THE GENERALS
(variously)
Hey, Pappy ... touch break ...
good to see you back in the saddle ...
guess you're gonna make that barbecue
Saturday, eh Pappy?
Colonel Mofler rises as General Conrad reaches the table, in the
middle of an extremely long slow burn.
GENERAL CONRAD
(low, angry, controlled)
Tell me about the fish.
COLONEL MOFLER
Sir, that tuna's been gaffed and he's
coming on deck now --
GENERAL CONRAD
What've we got!!
COLONEL MOFLER
(a look to the other Generals)
Sir, luckily the emission was confined.
(looks at the Generals again)
Confined to the limits of one small town.
(looks again)
Newtonville. Kansas
Long pause.
GENERAL CONRAD
That's IT??!! We're talking about
fist piss, what the hell did it DO??!!
Mofler looks at the Generals again, then at his notes.
COLONEL MOFLER
Uh, possible impact on basic metabolic
processes. Negative, uh, infringement
on calcium and magnesium molecular
structures. Uh, very likely some
compulsive hyperkinetic rebalancing --
GENERAL CONRAD
CUT THE CRAP!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU TELL
ME, COLONEL, WHAT THE HELL ARE WE
PULLING UP ON DECK!!
Another look at the Generals.
COLONEL MOFLER
Well, Sir, there's one thing we can say for
certain; Newtonville sure as hell isn't
going to have any cheese.
Silence. General Conrad tightens. His face turns the color of
borscht. SOUND of plaster straining. Hairline cracks appear up and
down the General's body cast. Strangulated moaning escapes from the
General as the cast shatters and he falls out of view like a man
going through a trapdoor.
The Generals shake their heads in admiration. They clench their
cigars, summoning up the Stuff for the ordeal that clearly lies
ahead.
CUT TO:
INT. WALLY'S HOUSE - NIGHT
In Gordie's room, Horton-as-Wally pounds the final nail into the
last in a wallfull of professional looking gun racks. The others
are already loaded with Gordie's toy weapons. Horton-as-Wally turns
to Gordie.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
Load 'er up.
Gordie loads the rest of his toys into the rack.
HORTON-AS-WALLY (CONT'D)
How many rounds in a Luger magazine?
GORDIE
Nine, Sir.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
What's the range on that Kalishnikov?
GORDIE
Accurate to three-hundred yards, Sir.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
Do you ever point a loaded weapon
at another human being if you don't
intend to use it?
GORDIE
No, Sir, never, Sir.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
That's good, Gordon. Tomorrow we're
going to talk about hand-to-hand
techniques. Now go tell your Mother
we're ready to eat.
GORDIE
Yes, Sir, I sure am hungry.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
You and me both, Junior.
Gordie exits happily.
CUT TO:
INT. WALLY NEWTON'S DINING ROOM - NIGHT
As Horton-as-Wally enters, Polly, wearing a blond, plastic neck
brace, ios setting out large amounts of food on the table, where
Gordie's eagerly seated, his head bobbing.
POLLY
(her voice strangely Munchkined)
Wally, I don't appreciate one little
bit being told by Gordie that you're
ready to --
Horton-as-Wally sits down, calmly takes out his Magnum and sets it
on the table beside his plate. Polly inhales her next word and
immediately sits. Gordie stares directly at Horton-as-Wally in a
trance of admiration.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
Dig in, Gordon. You'll need plenty
of energy when we go hand-to-hand.
Polly's impulse to interrogate is just barely contained by her sheer
terror. Gordie starts to eat, still gazing worshipfully at Horton-
as-Wally.
POLLY
Wally, you'll remember we're having
the wine and cheese get-together
tomorrow evening and I'll need you to
pick --
(he shoots her a look)
-- to remind me to pick up the wine
and cheese in the morning.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
(nods, then to Gordie)
If we had some cheese, we could have a
wine and cheese party, if we had some wine.
Gordie cracks up. He loves his dad so much now.
HORTON-AS-WALLY (CONT'D)
Son, you're bobbing like a boy who
needs a pogo stick. What do you say
we pick one up tomorrow?
GORDIE
(thrilled)
Gee, Dad, that'd be great -- what's
a pogo stick?
CUT TO:
INT. ROCKING HORSE ROOM - DAY
A basketball court sized room, the ceilings almost out of sight.
The walls are covered with murals of animals and fantasy lands. A
gigantic, electric rocking horse sits in the middle of the room,
near a desk where Tidman is emptying the contents of a large, grey
sock in front of the seated Professor-as-Newt. Ike and Mike are
standing guard nearby. The Professor-as-Newt stares at the objects
analytically, on the assumption they hold some hidden, symbolic
significance.
TIDMAN
(puzzled)
Don't you recognize these items,
Master Newt?
The Professor-as-Newt looks at Tidman, as if to say, "Should I?"
TIDMAN (CONT'D)
These are the contents of your sock.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
My sock.
TIDMAN
That's right --
(picking each object up)
This is your rock. This is your
piece of string. This is your
pink rubber pig. This is your
record player and your very
own record. See?
Tidman puts the plastic record on the plastic, toy turntable and
turns it on; a frantic, emotional children's SONG plays. Assuming
this is all a test of his brilliance, the Professor-as-Newt cocks
his head like the RCA dog, listening intently. He picks up the
rock, scrutinizing it, measuring it with his fingers.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
(shrewdly)
Instantly I see a relationship to
ze string.
TIDMAN
(humoring him)
Yes. They were all in the sock.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
All in ze sock?
TIDMAN
All ... in .... the sock.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
Ah, a frame of reference.
(putting it all together)
The sock ... is my universe. I'm going
to need a large chalkboard.
TIDMAN
Master Newt, you've come a long, long way.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
Halfway around the world.
TIDMAN
Yes. Of course
CUT TO:
INT. VINNIE'S LIGHTNING ROD - NIGHT
As the curtain opens on the small stage, BLACK MUSICIANS are playing
an introductory, three-chord blues riff. Jimmie Underwood and his
cronies are seated over drinks in their booth at the back. Vinnie
comes out on stage and takes the microphone.
VINNIE
Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me
great pleasure to introduce one
of the great legends of the blues,
it's his first visit here to the
Lightning Rod, direct from Gainesville,
Florida, the one and only Stompin'
Machine, Sammy "the Stomp" Johnson!
Round of applause, whistles. Jimmie and his group stomp their feet
and yell, heads bobbing in unison: the stomping spreads around the
room. The musicians start to stomp, the beat is picked up and
amplified by the bass drum. A spotlight hits the stage and out
stomps Alice-as-Sammy-the-Stomp, wearing a baggy, blue-sequined
suit, a purple pearlescent silk shirt, white bucks and a black
string tie. The audience immediately accepts her at face value and
the applause-o-meter shoots into the danger zone.
Alice-as-Sammy-the-Stomp, sounding like a bizarro mixture of B.B.
King and Princess Di, skillfully sings a blues standard with a great
deal of conviction, passion and diction.
Through the beaded curtain at the back, Wally-as-Horton enters the
Rod, scans the room, spots Jimmie and company and makes his way to
their booth.
GANGSTER #3
Hey, Horton, where's Lorraine?
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Lorraine?
Jimmie backhands Gangster #3 across the nose.
JIMMIE
What the hell business is it of yours
where she is?
(to Wally-as-Horton)
Guy's got a deathwish, huh Horton?
You gotta forgive a knothead like
this.
The Gangsters scrunch together to make room for Wally-as-Horton to
join them in the booth. They watch Alice-as-Sammy-the-Stomp finish
her number. Applause.
Under which, Lorraine teeters in on stiletto heels, dressed in a
clinging, cocktail sheath dress, with a slit up the side halfway to
Duluth. She leans down and gives Wally-as-Horton a big wet kiss.
LORRAINE
Sorry I'm late.
Wally-as-Horton's eyes roll back, close to losing consciousness.
LORRAINE (CONT'D)
What are you doin' sittin' with
these creeps?
WALLY-AS-HORTON
They're going to give me a drink.
LORRAINE
You mean a Mickey.
JIMMY
Lighten up, Lorraine, you gonna stop
a man from buying a man a drink in this
oh-by-gosh-by-golly world?
LORRAINE
Who me?
(she sits)
JIMMY
If you're not gonna stop me ...
(Jimmy winks at the others)
... then I'm not gonna stop you. I can't
stop you. And if I can't stop you, then --
THE OTHER GANGSTERS
(stupid singing)
-- "who'll stop Lorraine?"
On stage, Alice-as-Sammy-the-Stomp overhears the gangsters and
interpreting it as a request, launches the band into a tight,
explosive cover of CCR's "Who'll Stop the Rain?"
Jimmy raises his wine glass.
JIMMY
I'd like to propose a toast ...
Wally-as-Horton, Lorraine and the other Gangsters raise their wine
glasses.
JIMMY (CONT'D)
To Mr. Horton Thuraby, the fastest
gun in the west, with all good wishes
for continued success, especially in
whatever it is you might be doing at
the present time, which we have not
been let in on but tomorrow's a new
day ...
They wait to see if he's finished. Wally-as-Horton leans way
forward, forms a perfect "O" with his lips, attaches his lips to the
glass and makes like the babbling brook. The others look at him
like he just flew in from Mars. He continues to make the sound.
The Gangsters and Lorraine look at each other. Cautiously, they all
lean forward and duplicate Wally-as-Horton's wine tasting technique.
The band stops playing, all eyes turn to the booth. The sound of
the babbling brook continues.
CUT TO:
INT. NEWTONVILLE ROLLER RINK - NIGHT
Busier than before. A few happy SKATERS are seated at the lunch
counter, heads all bobbing. Holding a sheet of hamburger buns like
an accordion, Randy leans in uncomfortable close to one SKATER.
RANDY
I was telling Big Tom I smell gas.
And I still smell gas.
Stripping receipts off the spindle nearby, Woody grimaces and pulls
on his hair.
CUT TO:
INT. VINNIE'S SECOND FLOOR - NIGHT
Lorraine and Wally-as-Horton make their way up the stairs. Wally-
as-Horton is half in the bag, leading them in singing a mutilated
version of "Strangers in the Night". They stop outside the door to
Horton's apartment. Wally-as-Horton extends a hand.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Well, this is where I get off.
LORRAINE
You and me both, you animal.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
(shaking her hand)
Thank you for a wonderful evening,
Laura.
LORRAINE
You clown -- oh, I see, you want
to play Perfect Strangers, I like
this.
(she grabs his necktie)
Why don't you take me into your
apartment, Harley and let's see if I can
get that big engine of your's started?
We HEAR a rapid thumping, increasing in volume and intensity and
Wally-as-Horton's shirt starts to kick out like he's hiding a
mule undergoing shock treatment in his chest.
She opens the door and pulls him by the tie into the dark apartment.
The door closes. From inside, we hear Wally-as-Horton's heart
beating faster.
CUT TO:
EXT. NEWTONVILLE CITY LIMITS - DAWN
The early morning sun illuminates the "Welcome to Newtonville" sign.
Parked behind the sign in his patrol car, Dougy "Sherlock" Watson is
catching some Z's. His head bobs slightly in his sleep.
In the distance we hear the grinding and screeching of the Company
A" limo as it tears down the highway and roars past the sign.
"Sherlock" Watson wakes up like someone just poured ice water in his
shorts and sees the limo racing away. He starts the engine, hits
the siren and screeches out onto the highway, bubble lights
flashing, chasing the limo.
CAMERA holds on the sign. A few moments later, the patrol car zooms
back past the sign in reverse, the limo gaining on his front bumper.
"Sherlock" Watson testing the envelope of landspeed-backwards
travel.
The wretched whine of tortured engines fades. Lightning strikes the
desert in background. Moments later, what seems to be a sandstorm
erupts in the dry desert around the sign. Descending into this
malstrom, we see a contorted, white apparition attached to a
harness on a cable; General Conrad, in a new plaster body cast.
As he nears the ground, two troop carriers and a jeep speed into
frame, combat-ready GROUND TROOPS pour out and lower General Conrad
into a steel-tube scaffolding that allows him to stand in the back
of the jeep. He's strapped in, a microphone in front of his face
and large speakers on either side of him.
During above, the Generals with the Right Stuff and Colonel Mofler
arrive in a fleet of staff cars and three more transports disgorge
three companies of Marines.
GENERAL CONRAD
(into the loudspeakers)
Fall out! Fall out! Secure the perimeter
of Newtonville! No one gets in or out
without my say-so! Move, move, move!
CUT TO:
EXT. HEINZ 57 PLANT - DAWN
Songbirds. Peace. No one in sight.
CUT TO:
INT. HEINZ 57 PLANT - DAWN
An empty corridor. A blaring alarm starts filling the corridor with
sound. We hear frantic, running footsteps approaching and moments
later a panicked HEINZ EMPLOYEE comes into view around a corner,
screaming ...
HEINZ EMPLOYEE
THERE'S NO CHEESE!!! THERE'S NO
CHEESE!!!
CUT TO:
INT. COMPANY "A" CANAPE AREA - DAY
Carrying his sock and the Trick Dog, Newt-as-the-Professor is
escorted into a small, sparsely appointed laboratory by Bert and
Mel. In the room are a chalkboard, a box of chalk, a chair and a
periodic table of elements hanging on a wall.
BERT
These are all the things you asked
for, Professor.
NEWT-AS-THE PROFESSOR
Four
MEL
(nose expertly bandaged)
For your work. You're sure there's
nothing else you need?
NEWT-AS-THE PROFESSOR
Zero.
BERT
Okay, Professor.
MEL
We're going now.
BERT
We'll leave you to it.
No response. Bert and Mel exit.
CUT TO:
INT. CANAPE HALLWAY - DAY
Bert and Mel stop in the corridor.
BERT
He seems pretty preoccupied.
MEL
I'm sure he's got a lot on his mind.
CUT TO:
INT. CANAPE LAB - DAY
Newt-as-the Professor looks at the closed door.
NEWT-AS-THE PROFESSOR
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Newt-as-the Professor sits on the floor and opens his sock. The
Trick Dog sits beside him, watching attentively.
NEWT-AS-THE PROFESSOR (CONT'D)
Zero.
He takes his piece of string out of his sock and lays it out on the
floor.
NEWT-AS-THE PROFESSOR (CONT'D)
One.
He takes his smooth rock out of the sock and sets it down a certain,
exact distance from the string.
NEWT-AS-THE PROFESSOR (CONT'D)
Two.
We move off him towards a large mirror in the wall to his left.
CUT TO:
INT. CANAPE OBSERVATION ROOM - DAY
In a room filled with whirring computers, the group of Company "A"
SCIENTISTS we saw earlier observe Newt-as-the Professor through the
one-way glass mirror. Some of them sit at computer consoles, ready
to input Newt-as-the Professor's every action into their massive
hard discs. Mel and Bert enter and stand at the back of the room,
near Sammy-"the Stomp"-as Alice.
BERT
This is what we've been waiting for.
MEL
To watch an authentic genius at work.
One of the Scientists shushes them. The group watches as Newt-as-
the Professor takes his plastic record player out of the sock and
carefully sets it down. Video cameras record his every move.
NEWT-AS-THE PROFESSOR
(through a speaker in Room A)
Three.
They watch as Newt-as-the Professor takes out his record and puts it
on the turntable.
NEWT-AS-THE PROFESSOR (CONT'D)
Four.
Newt-as-the Professor turns it on; we hear the same frantic
children's song we heard on the other record player at Newton Manor.
The Scientists look at each other, a little wide-eyed.
SCIENTIST #1
(reassuringly)
Looks like he's getting warmed up.
SCIENTIST #2
He's priming the pump.
SAMMY-THE-STOMP-AS-ALICE
(aside to Bert and Mel)
That is one peculiar pump.
Bert and Mel look him/her up and down.
Newt-as-the Professor takes the pink, rubber pig out of the sock and
sets it down near the other objects.
NEWT-AS-THE PROFESSOR (CONT'D)
Five.
Newt-as-the Professor opens the box of chalk, takes out a piece of
chalk and feeds it into the open hold in the pig's mouth. He stands
up and starts flying the pig around the room in time to the music.
He occasionally grazes the chalk that extends out of the pig's mouth
against the blackboard. The Trick Dog starts jumping back and
forth over the chair.
NEWT-AS-THE PROFESSOR
Candy Pigs. Candy Pigs.
SCIENTIST #1
I'd heard his methods were unorthodox.
SCIENTIST #2
Stand by on computers; we'll have to
be on our toes ... school is in session.
The other Scientists nod in uncertain agreement.
CUT TO:
INT. CANAPE LAB - DAY
Newt-as-the Professor cruises around the room with the pig. As he
passes the periodic table on the far wall, we notice an eyeball
watching Newt-as-the Professor through the letter "o" in the word
"oxygen".
CUT TO:
INT. CANAPE SECRET OBSERVATION ROOM - DAY
The eyeball belongs to Mr. Posthole, the Company "B" spy, secreted
away in this tiny, dark space. He speaks into a small transmitter
hidden in his pen holder.
MR. POSTHOLE
Now he's simulating a kinetic flow
with the porcine symbol ... my
guess is he's establishing a spatial
vector between the objects for the
purpose of conceptual comparisons ...
(overwhelmed by the "brilliance")
... my God, I can't believe what I'm
witnessing, tell Mr. Biggs he's shed
more light on Arbitrary Permutation in
the last three minutes than we got in
two years out in the bush observing
the Mystic Sufis --
(back to business)
Am I kidding myself, or does the dog
represent Heisenberg's Uncertainty
Principle?
CUT TO:
EXT. LUCKY BUCK'S USED CARS AND TRUCKS - DAY
A beautiful summer morning. Horton-as-Wally drives up, parks beside
the sales office and heads inside. He feels like whistling and gets
out a note before catching himself. He enters the sales office.
CUT TO:
INT. LUCKY BUCK'S SALES OFFICE - DAY
As Horton-as-Wally enters, Lucky Buck gestures to him from behind
his desk.
LUCKY BUCK
Soldier, First Bugle's at 0900
hours, I'd like you to take a good
long look at your timepiece, bedbug,
and give me one good reason why I
shouldn't dock you three minutes
wages. You're a slacker, a slouch;
the original sadsack.
Horton-as-Wally, motionless, stares at this creature in disbelief.
A twinge of uneasiness filters down to Lucky Buck's cortex but he
shakes it off, crooks a finger and summons Horton-as-Wally.
LUCKY BUCK (CONT'D)
Walk that butt of yours right over here.
Private, I want to show you what put me
off my breakfast this morning.
Horton-as-Wally, stoking a nuclear powered slow burn, ambles over to
the desk, under ...
LUCKY BUCK (CONT'D)
The most pitiful, the most sickening
and embarrassing sales record it's
ever been my misfortune to encounter.
We're talking court martial. Dishonorable
discharge.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
What did you say?
LUCKY BUCK
(on micro-thin ice)
I said if this was Japan and I were
to hand you the hari-kari blade and
you were anything but the most miserable
excuse for a man in this outfit --
HORTON-AS-WALLY
That's enough.
Horton-as-Wally reaches out, grips Lucky Buck by the Adam's apple and
puts him gently against the wall and speaks calmly.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
The things you've been saying and
this attitude you're expressing
towards me are unacceptable. You
will never do this again.
LUCKY BUCK
(up about two octaves)
I agree completely.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
Fine. Let's sell some cars.
LUCKY BUCK
I'm all for it.
Horton-as-Wally releases Lucky Buck. Lucky Buck tells his trembling,
uncooperative facial muscles to smile, but the result looks like the
mouth of a catfish in a wind tunnel.
LUCKY BUCK (CONT'D)
Thank you.
CUT TO:
INT. ROCKING HORSE ROOM - DAY
Tidman enters, with Ike and Mike behind him. The Professor-as-Newt
sits at his desk, contemplating the contents of the sock laid
carefully out on the desktop, deeply lost in thought. A large,
blank blackboard stands at the ready.
TIDMAN
Good morning, Master Newt.
No response. The Professor-as-Newt doesn't budge, doesn't blink.
TIDMAN (CONT'D)
Sleep well, did you? Master
Newt? Master Newt?
Tidman touches the Professor-as-Newt's shoulder. The Professor-as-
Newt snaps out of his reverie and looks up at Tidman.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
(instantly alert)
Vhat kind of day is it? Is it a
cloudy day? Or is it a pleasant day?
TIDMAN
It's a pleasant day, Master Newt.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
That's good.
(they smile at each other)
You're the fellow who was in here
before.
TIDMAN
Yes, I'm Tidman.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
Tidman. You'll understand if I
return to my work now.
He turns back to the desktop. Tidman looks at Ike and Mike, sighs.
TIDMAN
Master Newt ... it's time for your
morning bath.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
(getting aggravated)
Please, kind sir, can't you see ...
I am this close --
(holds up thumb and forefinger)
-- this close -- these symbols are
swimming, swarming in my mind like
your bumblebees I've heard so much
about -- what pulls and pushes is
looking more and more like the
interwoven fibers of the SOCK!!
TIDMAN
(a pause, sternly)
Do you see your pig?
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
(thinking it's a clue, excited)
Yes?
TIDMAN
You're just as dirty as a pig.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
(eager to know more)
I am? What does this mean?
TIDMAN
It's time to see your Grandfather ...
it's time for your bath.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
(a new tangent)
Dirt ... water ... like a MEMBRANE!!
Tidman motions to Ike and Mike. They pick the Professor-as-Newt up
by the arms and carry him towards the door.
TIDMAN
Master Newt?
They stop. The Professor-as-Newt looks back at him.
TIDMAN (CONT'D)
(holding it up)
Don't you want to bring your pig?
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
(considers)
Vell, yes. I suppose I do.
CUT TO:
INT. NEWTON MANOR BATH ROOM - DAY
Ike and Mike carry the Professor-as-Newt, who's cradling his pig,
into the Roman bath-sized room. Tidman follows. Ike and Mike wear
regular bathing suits and t-shirts. The Professor-as-Newt is
wearing a 1890's style bathing suit. Also wearing the same style
suit, GRANDAD NEWTON, an ancient, shriveled version of Newt, stands
unsteadily in the far end of the steamy, swimming pool sized
bathtub. On the back of both their suits are the words:
LONG DISTANCE SWIMMER
Ike and Mike carry the Professor-as-Newt down steps into the bath
and drop him kitty-korner from Grandad. Tidman announces:
TIDMAN
Grandad, Master Newt is here.
Grandad looks at the Professor-as-Newt, shakes his head.
GRANDAD
That's not Newt.
TIDMAN
Don't be mean, Grandad, Newt's come such
a long way to see you. And I'll bet he'd
love to hear your record; wouldn't you
like to play it for him?
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
I vould like to hear your record. Does it
have any bearing on the pig? Or perhaps,
dirt or a membrane of some kind?
Grandad smiles warmly; he likes this guy even if it isn't Newt and
he's the only one who realizes it. Grandad reaches out of the pool
and turns on his plastic record player, similar to the one from the
sock. We hear a sweet, tender, warm-hearted song. As it plays,
Grandad takes out his own pink rubber pig and starts to suds it up
with a little brush. The Professor-as-Newt watches him intently,
smiling when Grandad smiles at him.
GRANDAD
Clean pig.
THE PROFESSOR-AS-NEWT
(aha, another clue)
A...clean...pig.
The Professor-as-Newt starts to scrub his pig. Using long-
handled brushes, Ike and Mike begin scrubbing down Grandad and
the Professor-as-Newt. Tidman steals behind a column and sneaks
a smoke.
CUT TO:
INT. AIRPORT - DAY
Moving off a clock that reads 12:33, we see Hank the Barber
exit the Barber Shop and move to the newsstand. He picks up
a newspaper and hands it to the Cashier.
CASHIER
The Hank, usual?
HANK THE BARBER
Bet you.
The Cashier takes the paper, opens the cash register drawer
and tries to stuff the newspaper inside. Meanwhile, Hank unwraps
a candy bar and smears it in a tight circle on his forehead,
near the third eye area. The Cashier takes out a handful of
nickels and dimes, holds out his arm and throws the coins onto
the corridor floor. The Barber and the Cashier stare at each
other with a look of complete blankness. The Barber spins
violently and storms back to the Barbershop.
Moving off them we find General Conrad, Colonel Mofler and the
other Generals observing the exchange. A SOLDIER approaches,
urgently.
SOLDIER
General, if you'd like to follow me.
GENERAL CONRAD
What is it?
SOLDIER
I think we've got a nibble.
They quickly follow the Soldier, Mofler and the other Generals
carrying General Conrad to the baggage claim area. The carousel has
been roped off and a number of SOLDIERS are crawling around,
carrying weird, Geiger-counter-like devices, all glowing and
emitting whooping noises.
GENERAL CONRAD
You smell that, Mofler?
COLONEL MOFLER
What's that, Sir?
GENERAL CONRAD
Tuna piss.
COLONEL MOFLER
Yes, Sir. Ground Zero.
GENERAL CONRAD
Mofler, you know what happens when tuna
goes bad?
Mofler nods, apprehensive, as the other Generals gather round.
GENERAL CONRAD (CONT'D)
Gentleman, we've got twenty-four hours to
cook this fish before it starts drawing
flies from Washington. I don't have to tell
you who'll have his barnacles scraped in
drydock if that happens.
CUT TO:
INT. LUCKY BUCKS USED CARS AND TRUCKS - DAY
The sales office is teeming with a crowd of anxious, head-bobbing
CAR PURCHASERS. Lucky Buck, in seventh heaven behind his desk, is
processing purchase agreements as fast as he can write.
LUCKY BUCK
(over above, voice still high)
Take a number, please ... Lucky
Buck'll get to you lucky shoppers
as soon as he can ...
CAR PURCHASERS
(variously)
I've got to have that car ... Wally
said it was the car for me and I
think he was right! ... I love that
car ... Wally wants me to have this
car and I don't want to upset him,
he was quite insistent ...
CUT TO:
EXT. LUCKY BUCK'S LOT - DAY
Horton-as-Wally walks a slow, rheumatic LITTLE OLD LADY firmly by
the elbow through the lot. As her head bobs, her eye is drawn to a
flashy, sporty convertible.
LITTLE OLD LADY
But I'm really kind of partial
to that one --
HORTON-AS-WALLY
No.
He stops her in front of a sensible, four-door sedan.
HORTON-AS-WALLY (CONT'D)
(finger in her face)
This is the car for you.
They Lady's eye's quiver. We hear a splashing on the tarmac. We see
a puddle forming between her orthopedic shoes.
LITTLE OLD LADY
(not eager to disappoint him)
Where do I sign?
CUT TO:
INT. VINNIE'S LIGHTNING ROD - DAY
Jimmie Underwood and the Boys sit around a table, over beers, heads
bobbing, deeply troubled.
JIMMIE
How can you tail a guy who don't
go out of his room?
MEXICAN GANGSTER
What are they doing up there?
They all punch him on the shoulders.
MEXICAN GANGSTERS (CONT'D)
No, I mean, this ain't like Horton;
he don't mix business with pleasure.
JIMMIE
Horton's beginning to act like an
enigma.
The other Gangsters brush off their sleeves and pick lint off their
lapels. Mr. Biggs and his two Bodyguards are eavesdropping on this
conversation from the next booth. Mr. Biggs gets up and moves to
Jimmie Underwood.
MR. BIGGS
I couldn't help overhearing what you
gentlemen were discussing. I, too,
have concern with regards to the behavior
of Mr. Horton Thursby. Perhaps we can
find a path through this thicket of
doubt and confusion to a golden pagoda
of mutual satisfaction.
JIMMIE UNDERWOOD
You're Mr. Biggs.
MR. BIGGS
Indeed I am, Sir. Let's talk turkey.
MEXICAN GANGSTER
Con mucho queso.
JIMMIE UNDERWOOD
There isn't gonna be any turkey or cheese.
Your deal's with Thursby.
MR. BIGGS
Until this moment. I consider it
void for non-performance of services.
Take Thursby out ... and the deal is
yours.
JIMMIE UNDERWOOD
One, two, three ...
The gangsters all give the thumbs up sign on the silent count of
"four"
CUT TO:
INT. HORTON THURSBY'S ROOM
A clock reads: 2:00 PM. Wearing a smile as wide as the
Mississippi, Wally-as-Horton lounges between the sheets with
Lorraine. Wally-as-Horton sings her a little ditty. She giggles
like an adored and adorable schoolgirl.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
(picture Gary Cooper, happy drunk)
Gosh, I think you're peachy/
And I'll bet you'd look real swell/
In a swimsuit at the beachy/
You really ring my bell/
Gosh, of gosh, oh gosh.
He pinches her nose, then holds up the tip of his thumb between two
fingers.
WALLY-AS-HORTON (CONT'D)
If I keep this, will it start to smell?
She giggles. He kisses her "nose" and puts it "back".
LORRAINE
Oh, Horton, this is the most romantic
day we've ever spent.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Oh gosh.
LORRAINE
If I feel anymore love I think I'll just
wiggle right out of my skin!!
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Awww. Me too.
She kisses him tenderly and quickly accelerating passion. Wally-as-
Horton's t-shirt starts thumping like a jackhammer.
CUT TO:
EXT. GRAZING PASTURE - DAY
A number of dairy cows stand in the field, moving their lips and
making an eerie, melodic yodeling. Moving over we find General
Conrad, Colonel Mofler and the Generals standing on the edge of the
field. Behind them, a mass of Soldiers are standing by. One of the
Generals looks through a huge pair of binoculars. Colonel Mofler
holds a tape recorder's microphone towards the cows.
INTERCUT:
BINOCULAR POV
CLOSE on a big pair of yodeling cow's lips.
CUT TO:
INT. CANAPE OBSERVATION ROOM - DAY
Newt-as-the-Professor lays out the piece of string on the floor,
picks up the rock and bangs it up in down on the string in time to
the song on the record player.
CUT TO:
INT. CANAPE BUNKER - DAY
We see Newt-as-the Professor on a video monitor mounted on a wall in
Company "A"'s secret boardroom. Cinderblock walls, low green
fluorescent lights. The group of Scientists we saw earlier
observing Newt-as-the Professor are seated around the table,
watching the monitor with Chairman Delbert Corrigan and his lovely
wife, Simone. Bert and Mel are standing quietly in the back near
Sammy "the Stomp"-as-Alice. Everyone watches the monitor intently,
heads bobbing, as we hear the tap-tap-tapping of Newt-as-the-
Professor's rock. A plate of small sandwiches sits in the middle of
the table.
DELBERT CORRIGAN
(watching the monitor, dumbfounded)
Interesting. But, somehow, vague.
SIMONE
(cutting the bullshit)
What the hell is he doing? We paid
top dollar for this dimwit.
SCIENTIST #1
(cowed but unbroken)
Mrs. Corrigan, please, this is an intuitive,
rhythmic translation of pure thought
into interpretive kineseology.
SIMONE
Oh please.
SCIENTIST #2
We think it's a code. We just haven't
cracked it yet.
SIMONE
I'll tell you what's cracked around here,
he is. He was cracked when he got here.
DELBERT
Perhaps he was damaged in shipping.
At the back, Bert and Mel exchange an anxious glance. Mel grimaces
and draws a finger across his throat.
BERT
(nods, whispers)
Pink slips, Mel.
MEL
Time to update those resumes.
SCIENTIST #1
(showing scads of print-outs)
Our data indicates he's in the process
of establishing the formula.
Still in time to the music, Newt-as-the-Professor is now hitting the
pig with the rock and jumping it down on the string. Each time he
hits it, the pig emits a high, sharp squeak.
DELBERT CORRIGAN
(trying to grasp it)
Ah, the frustration of the layman.
SCIENTIST #2
(trying to be helpful)
Might I suggest you read Smyth on the
encoding of natural processes in syncopated
Pygmy drumbeats?
Simone lets out a heavy, critical sigh and rolls her eyes.
DELBERT CORRIGAN
(trying to sum up)
I think what Simone and I are trying
to say, old boys, is that we're
somewhat concerned, as anyone would
be after a cash outlay of this magnitude,
with no apparent return other than these
inscrutable, albeit intriguing abstractions.
(loses his train of thought)
Company "A" is behind you one hundred
percent.
(bites into a sandwich)
Cracking good sandwiches, these. Sandwich,
Simone?
CUT TO:
INT. CANAPE COMPUTER ROOM - DAY
MONTAGE: whirring computers; on computer monitors, black and white
stills of the lab floor are overlaid with a grid, computerized
vectors compute distances between the objects with calipers,
feeding the data over microphone to programmers at keyboards; a
Scientist with headphones on analyzes the music from Newt's record
on computer.
In the secret observation room behind the element chart, Mr.
Posthole video tapes Newt-as-the-Professor through the peep hole.
In another computer room at company "B", the video data from Mr.
Posthole's camera is on a big monitor, being analyzed by Company
"B"'s battery of computers.
CUT TO:
INT. EXT. TOY STORE - DAY
A sign reads:
ZAP TOYS
CUT TO:
INT. TOY STORE - DAY
Horton-as-Wally leads Gordie stand in front of the counter where
kindly old MISTER ZAP climbs up a tall ladder, pulls a pogo stick
down off a shelf and blows off a thick layer of dust.
MISTER ZAP
(still on the ladder)
Yep. Haven't sold one of these things
in years. Got a back order died on
the shelf. Been clogging up my
inventory since '59. Used to be I'd
see kids bouncing all over Main
Street on these things.
(getting carried away)
Wished I had a nickel for every one
of these I saw bouncing by my window.
Could'a sold this old shop. Could'a
moved up ta Granny's farm 'fore the
rheumatism took her. Yep, I --
HORTON-AS-WALLY
(no good can come from this)
That's enough.
At 8 fps, Mr. Zap zips down the ladder and rings up the sale.
CUT TO:
EXT. TOY STORE - DAY
Regular speed. Horton-as-Wally watches with a smile as Gordie hops
on the stick and bounces away down Main Street. A couple of head
bobbing KIDS spot Gordie and are thunderstruck with desire for a
stick of their own.
CUT TO:
EXT. ROLLER RINK - EVENING
Sun set over the big skate. The exterior lights come on. The
parking lot is jammed with cars and would-be skaters.
CUT TO:
INT. ROLLER RINK - EVENING
In front of the empty skate dispensing shelves, Big Tom, Woody and
Randy stare in amazement at the rink, packed solid, shoulder-to-
shoulder with happy skaters, a mass of human flesh traveling around
and around.
WOODY
(incredulous)
This is great business, even for a Friday.
BIG TOM
Pinch me, Woody, I think we're dreaming.
WOODY
(has to worry about something)
Who are these people? They look like
total strangers.
RANDY
(at his most insistent)
Big Tom. I still smell --
Woody clamps a hand over Randy's mouth.
BIG TOM
Oh, the sound of many skates on wood.
CLOSE-UPS of many skates thunderously wheeling around the rink.
CUT TO:
INT. WALLY HORTON'S HOUSE - NIGHT
Horton-as-Wally scrutinizes pairs of polyester-clad GUESTS entering
the house for the wine and cheese party, each carrying a bottle of
wine. Polly greets them at the door and they all pointedly ignore
Horton-as-Wally.
GUESTS AND POLLY
(variously)
We were so fortunate to find this last
dusty little bottle ... Ted's so silly
he thought Neuf de Pape was the sound
champagne made when you opened it ...
we thought you'd like this adorable
burgundy ... I've read about it; it's
ingratiating without being impudent ...
Polly glances over at Horton-as-Wally. He's just turned the heat up
on his slow burn.
CUT TO:
INT. RIALTO THEATER - NIGHT
Thunderous applause from the packed house, among them some soldiers,
watching strategically. A spot comes up on Mayor Billy Benson as he
walks out on stage. Watching from a gold circle box on the mezzanine
level are General Conrad, Colonel Mofler and the other Generals.
MAYOR BILLY BENSON
Thank you, thank you and welcome, one
and all.
(his hand is bobbing erratically)
Before I introduce the illustrious Chinese
Acrobats I have an important announcement
to make.
(the crowd hushes)
During the last twenty-four hours I, Mayor
Billy Benson, have struggled mightily with
the questions and issues weighing heavily
on all our minds in these, our troubled times.
Ladies and gentlemen, Atlas did not shrug.
GENERAL CONRAD
(whispers to Mofler)
Where's my bozo gun?
MAYOR BILLY BENSON
And so it is tonight, with a heart filled with
joy and promise, that I am announcing my
candidacy for the office of President of these
United States of America.
Dead silence. Benson twitches, salutes sharply and strides off.
GENERAL CONRAD
Drop a net on that one, Mofler.
COLONEL MOFLER
He's got trout farm written all over him.
The band strikes up the Chinese overture. Lights dim. Curtains
open. To tumultuous applause the thirty-five Texans stride out and
take a bow.
GENERAL CONRAD
(squinting)
Kind'a big for Chinese.
COLONEL MOFLER
Maybe the stage is small.
A steady drum bead-roll, the Texans scramble back and, paunches
straining, begin to form a massive, five-tiered human pyramid.
Roger, the stage manager, watches from the wings, crossing all his
fingers and biting a nail, as his head bobs.
The men of the last tier climb precariously up to complete the
clumsiest and least graceful human pyramid in recorded history. The
bottom tier starts to shake and shimmy; the keystone Man's knees
start to buckle. The tiers sag inwards towards the middle. With a
look of eye-popping strain, the keystone Man farts. A split-second
later, another first-tier Texan rips a cheese-cutter and the Pyramid
collapses like a dynamited housing project.
ROGER
(averting his eyes)
Chinese food. Ix-nay on the Chinese food.
CUT TO:
INT. VINNIE'S BACKSTAIRS - NIGHT
Wally-as-Horton and Lorraine come down the stairs, happily glued to
each other. They enter the main room of the Rod. CUSTOMERS are
wolfing down huge portions of Vinnie's bad food. Jimmie and the
Gangsters, seated at a table in the middle of the room, all rise,
apprehensive, on edge. Vinnie approaches.
VINNIE
Evening, Horton.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
(happily)
Evening. We're starved!
LORRAINE
For food, that is, but not for anything
else.
VINNIE
Two deluxe dinners, coming right up.
(he moves off)
JIMMIE
(strained)
Have a seat with us, Horton. We've got
plenty of room.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Gee, thanks, Mr. Underwood.
The other Gangsters back away from the table, as Wally-as-Horton and
Lorraine take a seat. Vinnie sets down two sticky plates full of
undifferentiated sludge.
VINNIE
Buon appetito!
(he moves off)
The other Gangsters sit down again. Wally-as-Horton feels some
tension and starts to get nervous. Jimmie Underwood moves behind
Wally-as-Horton into the shadows. High violin/rash music fades in,
as Wally-as-Horton's rash starts to bedevil him. He moves his left
are uncomfortably as he starts to eat.
LORRAINE
(picking up on the danger)
Horton, something's not right.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Yeah, this food is terrible.
LORRAINE
No. Where's Jimmie?
Behind them, in the shadows, Jimmie Underwood slowly draws a pistol
from his jacket. His itch intensifying, Wally-as-Horton reaches
into his jacket to scratch his rash. The Other Gangsters dive lean
back, expecting the worse. As Wally-as-Horton scratches his rash he
accidently discharges the Magnum in his shoulder holster. BANG!
The bullet shoots a hole in Wally-as-Horton's jacket, ricochets off
the metal chairleg, flies up and knocks the gun out of Jimmie
Underwood's hand. Wally-as-Horton spins around. The other
Gangsters dive under the table and the rest of the room takes cover.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Oh geez, Mr. Underwood, I'm so sorry,
are you okay?
JIMMIE UNDERWOOD
(reduced to a whimpering mass)
Go ahead, finish me.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Was you dinner that bad, too? I could
cook better than that. In fact I could
cook a lot better than that.
LORRAINE
(puzzled)
You cook?
Silence. The other Gangsters stare at him in bewilderment and fear.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Well ... yeah, I cook.
JIMMIE UNDERWOOD
(frantically looking for a foothold)
You cook? cook, too.
ITALIAN GANGSTER
You guys cook? So do I.
BLACK GANGSTER
No kidding? I love to cook.
MEXICAN GANGSTER
Yo, tambien. Con mucho queso!!
JIMMIE UNDERWOOD
I was always kind's afraid to say so.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Hey, there's nothing wrong with cooking.
LORRAINE
Some of the world's greatest cooks are
men. Maybe Vinnie will let you boys
cook something.
CUSTOMERS
(variously)
Anything'd be better than this slop ...
let 'em cook ... hey, Vinnie, let 'em
cook!
(stomping as they shout)
Let them cook! Let them cook! Let
them cook!
VINNIE
(happily joining in the chant)
They can cook! They can cook!
JIMMIE UNDERWOOD
(offering a hand)
Whadda ya say, Hort?
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Let's cook!
CUT TO:
INT. WALLY NEWTON'S HOUSE - NIGHT
The entire room full of Guests, and Polly, are doing the "babbling
brook". Horton-as-Wally watches them in disgusted disbelief. A
Guest with thick glasses turns to Horton-as-Wally.
THICK-GLASSES GUEST
You're very quiet this evening, Wally.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
Yes I am.
DICK, a big, mean Sportsman, has heard this exchange.
DICK
I suppose it's a little past your
bedtime, huh Wally?
HORTON-AS-WALLY
No. I just want ot make sure Polly
enjoys her party.
Within earshot, Polly smiles, enormously pleased, then starts
offering a tray full of turgid treats around the room.
POLLY
Cheese substitute? Cheese substitute?
A Second Sportsman Guest, HAL, slightly looped and smelling a bit of
fun, moves next to Dick, near Horton-as-Wally.
HAL
Dick and I were wondering if you'd
sold your first car yet, Wally.
DICK
Yeah, how long you been working there,
'bout fifteen years now, isn't it?
You're headed for the Guiness Book
of World Records there, Wally boy.
A moment of tense silence.
POLLY
Dick, I'll have you know Wally's sold
almost every car on the lot in the last
two days.
HAL
There's a sucker born every minute and
even a sucker can get a driver's license.
POLLY
(a bit aglow: can it be love?)
Well, I'm very proud of Wally. Lucky
Buck's make him a full partner.
DICK
I guess Lucky Buck threw himself on
too many grenades.
POLLY
(sees the bumblebees in Horton's eyes)
Dick? Are you trying to provoke Wally?
DICK
Full partner? Selling cars? Is Polly
weaning you, Wally boy?
HORTON-AS-WALLY
Excuse me?
DICK
Thought for sure there'd be a little
rubber nipple on your glass there tonight.
You know; per usual.
A buzzing like twelve cubic yards of killer bees fills the room. A
row of nervous female GUESTS "babble brook" their wine.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
What did you say?
DICK
You heard me, Wimpy --
Horton-as-Wally throws a six-inch uppercut that puts Dick twelve
block down on "Queer Street". Hal moves three centimeters towards
Horton-as-Wally and one punch later finds himself on the floor,
looking for his eye-teeth.
In one fluid motion Horton-as-Wally whips out the Magnum and fires a
single shot down the row of female Guests, severing the stem of
their wine glasses. The wine empties onto the carpet like sand
through an hour glass.
HORTON-AS-WALLY
Goodnight.
At 8 fps the room empties out the front door. Returning to normal
speed, Horton-as-Wally holsters the Magnum. Polly points a not-
entirely-angry finger at him.
POLLY
Wally Newton!
HORTON-AS-WALLY
(responding in kind)
Polly Newton!
He grabs her, spanks her once playfully. She spanks him back and
giggles. He throws her over his shoulder and marches her upstairs
to you-know-where.
CUT TO:
INT. GORDIE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
Little Gordie sleeps peacefully, a blissful smile on his face, as he
cradles his precious pogo stick.
CUT TO:
INT. VINNIE'S LIGHTNING ROD KITCHEN - NIGHT
Wally-as-Horton and Jimmie Underwood are the boys are all in aprons,
laboring over different pots and griddles, each eagerly preparing
his own specialty, moving in and around each other with precision
choreography, taste-testing, pondering, adjusting ingredients.
Lorraine is working as Wally-as-Horton's spice gofer.
Vinnie comes back into the kitchen, carrying a huge stainless steel
baking tin.
VINNIE
This one big enough, Horton?
WALLY-AS-HORTON
That should do it, what do you think boys?
The others nod and continue cooking. Vinnie stands around like a
fifth wheel.
VINNIE
So, how's it coming along?
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Vinnie, Vinnie don't bug us. We're
working on something that's never been
done before, ever.
(to Lorraine)
Lorraine, a dash of cardomon seed.
(Lorraine complies)
VINNIE
Sounds expensive.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Yes it is. We're not gonna lie to
you, Vinnie, but we pull this off
and the Michelin people are gonna
need an extra star to rate this joint.
VINNIE
Gee, that's great. Kind of a Meals
on Wheels sort of situation, what
with the tires and the food and all.
Wally-as-Horton and Jimmie Underwood look at each other.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Not the tire company, Vinnie, this Michelin
is a snob outfit that rates swanky restaurants
and when we're finished you're goin' right to
the top of the list.
VINNIE
Wow.
WALLY-AS-HORTON
Now if you can't stand the heat get out of
the kitchen, Vinnie.
VINNIE
Boys, you ever see a man my age do something
like this?
He reaches up, grabs the pot rack and does a one-arm chin up. They
stare at him.
CUT TO:
INT. RIALTO THEATER - NIGHT
The stage is littered with broken crockery. A le