...just you and me...
175. Same as 162.
Later, Irving, later, we’ll curl up in your Morris chair and take each other’s blood pressure.
(As door closes.) Oooooh, oooooh, ooooh...
176. Two-shot of PLUTO and SOPHIE. SOPHIE walks back to the bar to pick up her drink. She takes a sip.
(Examines fingers.) I’m getting a callus on my thumb.
177. Close on SOPHIE.
Guess where I’m getting a callus, honey. Gee, Pluto, I’m not asking for too much, am I? I don’t expect orange lightning and bells ringing in my head. I’m not the woman from La Mancha dreaming the impossible dream. I’m not the girl from Ipanema. I’m not the little old lady from Pasadena. I’m not even Linda Lovelace, for Christ’s sake. All I’ve ever wanted is one normal, healthy, run-of-the-mill, usual, ordinary, everyday type of orgasm.
178. Two-shot.
Vaginal or clitoral?
Vaginal, clitoral, rectal, underwater, I don’t really give a damn.
Now Sophie, you know I’ll help you all I can. Your agreement with the firm entitles you to whatever setups you want.
179. Close-up of SOPHIE. Nodding, drinking.
180. PLUTO POV SOPHIE.
...and you have to make do with whatever you think up. There is a bit of latitude in the terms of the contract itself, and I’ll always help all I can.
181. Two-shot.
(She finishes her drink and puts it down.) Why Pluto, honey, that’s really very considerate of you. (Pause two beats.) Whhooooopppeeeee! (Runs to PLUTO and jumps on his lap. Puts her arms around him.) What about a little this and that, these and those?
182. Closer shot of the two of them.
(Flustered but gradually regaining his professionalism.) Look, Sophie. (He stands up and she stands with him. The camera reframes for a wider shot.) I deeply respect you as a human being but I’m here on a mission as a representative of the firm. (SOPHIE lets go of him, shrugs her shoulders and goes back to the bar.) Some of us observe and others participate.
183. Another two-shot.
(She is pouring a drink, and speaks with her head turned over her shoulder.) Well, whatever the case, Rasputin was an absolute zero.
184. Close on PLUTO.
You know, you need more than an ordinary man.
You’re telling me.
No, I mean it. You know, nonstop, enormous, the whole thing.
I thought Rasputin.
185. Medium close-up PLUTO POV SOPHIE.
...a real stallion, a thoroughbred...
186. Close on SOPHIE. She’s getting into it, too, now.
...doesn’t know when to stop, in and up to the goddamned end...
187. Close on PLUTO.
...a sure thing, an absolute winner...
188. Close on SOPHIE.
...the ultimate stud...
189. Close on PLUTO’S fingers and SNAP.
190. Close-up of a horse’s cock. Camera holds for a second, then pulls back to show the horse in a stall. Hanging from the stall is a sign which says “MAN O WAR.” Hold this for two beats.
191. Close on SOPHIE. Look of absolute disbelief changing rapidly to disgust.
Pluto!!!!!
192. Close-up of a roaring fire. Pull back to reveal MADGE’S office. She is on the chaise in her usual getup. She has a look of disgust like SOPHIE’S in the last sequence. PLUTO is pacing around a lot. She is reading PLUTO’S report. She puts it down and draws on her cigarette holder.
A real stallion, a thoroughbred.
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
193. Another two-shot, this one favoring MADGE.
Pluto, the road to Heaven is paved with good intentions. (Pause one beat.) Well, Rasputin seemed like a good idea as well.
A complete disaster. A sexual Edsel. He ran her up his flagpole and nobody saluted.
You know, I suspect that no man is going to be able to satisfy her.
That’s why I opted for the horse. I thought.
194. Close on MADGE.
For brute force and endurance you can’t top Rasputin. For seduction, Casanova is in like Flynn. For whips and chains, the Marquis is unparalleled. And unperpendiculared as well. But no particular...
195. PLUTO POV MADGE, pacing and nodding.
...man will make any difference here. What she needs is a new role for herself, the fulfillment of a fantasy she never even knew she had. (Closes eyes.) I see Germany. A few years ago. In Berlin.
196. PLUTO, POV MADGE.
(Surprised.) You mean like Nazis? God knows we’ve got enough of them...
197. Two-shot favoring MADGE.
We’ve got them coming out of the woodwork. We never get any requests for them, but we’ve got a ton of them. But nobody living or dead would want to ball one of them, and I’ll tell you why. (She stands up and, after the music cue, sings.)
Hitler had only one big ball.
Goering had two but they were small.
Himmler had something similar and
Goebbels had no balls at all.
Hey, I like that. It’s catchy. (He joins her as they do a second chorus, and then a third chorus in which their voices are joined by as many voices as you can find. During all of this, you throw in a chunk of stock footage of storm troopers goosestepping, newsreel clips of Hitler, etc. with the voices singing over this dreck. Then as the song ends we are back in MADGE’S office where she and PLUTO are singing their brains out, doing a little goosestepping themselves. The song ends and MADGE flops back on the chaise. PLUTO plops into a chair. They are both laughing and out of breath.)
(Panting a little.) Before the Nazis... the Weimar Republic... Cabaret... Decadence...
198. Interior of an ice cream parlor. Shot begins on an enormous ice cream concoction, six hundred scoops of every flavor except uranium. Pull back to see PLUTO eating this mess. He and SOPHIE are sitting in a booth. This is a two-shot.
I’m sorry, Pluto, but you didn’t see the way that horse was looking at me.
I saw the way you looked at him.
Well, he reminded me of something.
199. PLUTO POV SOPHIE.
The Shetland pony? The time the platform broke?
200. Close on SOPHIE.