Definite shapes! Is that all that came down to you on your special pipeline to the infinite?
152. Two-shot. SOPHIE gets down on the floor next to RASPUTIN and shoves her face toward his.
I’ve heard better than that whispered in a public latrine.
Refrain from boiled beef for seventeen days.
If that’s all you’ve got for me, there goes your reputation.
What reputation?
The iron man of the bedroom. The only man with selective rigor mortis. (Stands up.)
153. Close on SOPHIE.
You know something? I think I’ve got you figured. All you’ve been doing is overcompensating for a subliminal virility anxiety.
154. Close-up RASPUTIN POV SOPHIE.
What means this — virility anxiety?
155. Close-up SOPHIE POV RASPUTIN.
It’s a polite way of saying you’re a faggot.
156. Close-up RASPUTIN POV SOPHIE.
(Really mad.) By the potent penis of Saint Peter of Parma, will you simply look at those two young women? (Indicates ANNA and KARENINA.) Personally saved from the eternal degradation of a life of sinful self-abuse. Personally brought to glorious fulfillment time and time again, beyond man’s power to count. PERSONALLY FUCKED INTO A BLIND STUPOR!!!
157. Two-shot.
Oh, be serious, Rasputin.
What do you mean?
158. Close-up SOPHIE.
What I mean is that those two could fuck themselves into a blind stupor with the stub of a Chanukah candle. They go through life in a state of preliminary orgasm. The question is whether you’re man enough for a woman like me, and I’m afraid I know the answer.
159. Close-up RASPUTIN.
All right. You have brought this on yourself. I will make you scream with pleasure until you perish from the draining of your precious bodily fluids. I will destroy you.
160. Two-shot.
I should live so long. (He throws open his robe.)
On your knees! (She shrugs, sinks to her knees.) Now worship at the throne of heaven!
161. Close-up SOPHIE POV RASPUTIN’S cock.
(Taking his cock between her fingers and shaking her head sadly.) So much for legend. (And she pops his cock into her mouth.)
162. Whole sexual montage of the two of them. After a bit of this and that on the floor, they go to the bed where ANNA and KARENINA have recuperated enough to get into the act. What happens is this: loads and loads of sexual numbers. Everybody getting into everything. ANNA and KARENINA fall out exhausted. RASPUTIN looking good in the stretch. Only one left. Two down and one to go. SOPHIE still in there strong. At this point he is screwing her from behind, pumping away like mad. We then have a shot of SOPHIE’S head POV RASPUTIN.
(She turns her head to him.) What’s the matter, is something the matter?
163. Close on RASPUTIN POV SOPHIE. Sweat, panting, the whole exhaustion number.
No, no no... Why? (Pull back to see RASPUTIN balling his brains out.)
I just thought for a moment there... I thought you moved.
164. More sexual this and that. Then the penultimate sex shot SOPHIE on her back at the edge of the bed, her feet hanging over. RASPUTIN standing between her legs and screwing. The camera undercranks so that they are balling in fast motion. In and out a mile a minute.
165. Close on SOPHIE’S face.
(She is bored to tears. Nothing’s going to happen and she knows it. Not only won’t she be able to get it off, she couldn’t even get it on.) Oh, my God.
166. Close on RASPUTIN’S face. He is a man thirteen point six seven inches from death. Dark circles under his eyes, sweat, a load of fresh gray hair.
167. Close on SOPHIE.
When am I going to see some of this super-duper screwing I’ve heard so much about?
168. Two-shot, still fast motion.
Pluto, this is impossible. Pluto, he could fuck me for another six months and all I’d get is seasick. Pluto, dammit, get me the hell outta here!!! (We hear the finger snap, and SOPHIE vanishes, and we stay on RASPUTIN, still grinding, as he comes to the realization that there’s no longer a woman under him, and he begins to collapse as we) FADE TO BLACK. CUT TO:
169. Interior of SOPHIE’S apartment. PLUTO and SOPHIE are side by side on the couch, both looking dejected. She’s naked.
You could have snapped my clothes back while you were at it.
I figured you wanted out of there in a hurry.
I wanted him out of me in a hurry, that’s for sure.
Did nothing for you, huh?
Let’s just say that he didn’t live up to my expectations. (She gets up, still totally nude; heads toward the bar.) God, I need a drink.
The work of an instant. (Snaps fingers, etc. SOPHIE has a drink in her hand.)
Pluto, how in the hell do you do that? (A knock on the door.)
Oh, my God, what a sense of timing. (Heads toward door. Stops, realizing she is naked.) Pluto, clothing, quick.
170. SOPHIE, POV PLUTO. Pluto snaps his fingers. Sophie is in a clown suit.
Pluto! (He snaps his fingers again, she is in more appropriate clothing. She goes to the door.)
(Opening the door.) What do you...?
(With a bigger gift than before.) Sophie, what do you... Sophie???? (Takes glasses off, cleans them, puts them back on.)
171. SOPHIE POV IRVING.
(Remembering she is young.) Irving, I can’t go into this now, let’s just...
172. Close on IRVING POV SOPHIE.
...I don’t believe... what, what... How did... (etc.)
(OC) Irving, will you please go back to your apartment and take your pulse. I’ll tell you about this later.
173. Two-shot favoring SOPHIE.
(Stammering throughout before this, but now really nineteenth-century lecherous.) Drink some absinthe and listen to my Paul Whiteman records. Read some Fanny Hill...
(Closing door.) Really pulling out all the stops, eh, Irving? Look, there’s no time...
174. Really close on IRVING, POV SOPHIE.