Fade in on deserted country place. Rollo hides the attaché case, then goes to a place of concealment where Flash waits with the car. An hour passes. Rollo starts, then produces a small pair of binoculars. The enemy agents retrieve the case and make swift tracks to their car. They pull out.
Rollo: Let’s go.
Flash: They don’t call me Flash for nothing.
They roar off in hot pursuit of the enemy agents. The agents, who are in the process of checking the contents of the case, notice the pursuing vehicle. A spectacular, heated chase follows, with the agents trying to shake Flash and Rollo. When the criminals realize the futility of their intricate maneuvers, they uncache two odd-looking weapons. As Flash and Rollo force them off the road, they unleash sonic waves from the weapons. Flash and Rollo, caught in the crossfire, lose consciousness.
Fade out.
Fade in on a submarine plowing through the ocean. The submarine docks in an underground cavern.
Fade out.
Fade in on Flash and Rollo as they sit, trussed up like Christmas turkeys. Understandably, they are rather sullen. They look up, as Mephistopheles makes a grand entrance down a spiral staircase, followed by a Satanically-attired handmaiden, bearing a silver tray. Upon the tray, an ornate container rests. Laslo, who has been guarding the prisoners, bows to his lord and master.
Rollo: What happened and where are we?
Mephistopheles: First permit me the pleasure of introducing myself and my staff. This charming young lady is Lilith. The gentleman behind you is Laslo. I understand you have already met Gustav and Helmut. As for myself, I believe you gentlemen know me as Mephistopheles. To answer your first question, Mr. Farnsworth, what happened to you was quite elementary. My men used sonic force to disrupt the even flow of your brain waves. As a result, you both lost consciousness. The sonic weapons were invented by my team of research scientists. You also desire to know where we are. We are on my estate in the beautiful English countryside. You were transported here via “The Inferno”—my private submarine.
Rollo: Flash! I know this man from somewhere.
Mephisto: As well you should, Mr. Farnsworth. Five years ago, in Tangiers, you etched your calling card into my face.
Rollo: Of course—Heinrich Mueller! I would never have recognized you with that beard.
Mephisto: Fortunately, no one else has, either. It has been a most effective disguise.
Flash: Where is Operator Ten? Is he here, too?
Mephisto: Why yes, Mr. LaRue, in a manner of speaking, he is. (He snaps his fingers and the handmaiden enters the frame with the ornate container.) Gentlemen, may I present Agent Ten, late of the International Police. (He up-ends bottle, spilling ashes in front of the pair.)
Flash lunges at him, but Laslo appears and pulls him back down. Mephistopheles repeatedly slaps Flash’s face.
Mephisto: And now for a little entertainment. (Rollo is taken from his chair and spread-eagled on the ground.) Laslo, bring me the whip.
Laslo gleefully complies. We see that Flash has almost freed himself. Mephistopheles begins to lash Rollo. While Laslo enjoys the sadism, Flash leaps up and grabs Laslo’s sonic gun and renders him unconscious. Mephistopheles whirls about and gets the same treatment.
Flash: (to Lilith, as he frees Rollo) Don’t move a single curve, sweetheart.
As Rollo rubs his wrists and generally recovers, Flash covers the girl and searches the fallen Mephistopheles.
Flash: Mephistopheles wouldn’t have destroyed Operator Ten unless he had tortured the secret information out of him first. (Finding a slip of paper.) This is it. (He takes the sonic gun from Mephistopheles.) Here, arm yourself. You tie these two monkeys up. I’m going to pay a visit to the engine room of “The Inferno”. Lead the way, sister.
Exit Lilith and Flash. As Rollo ties up Laslo, we see Mephistopheles cock one eye open. He makes a run for the staircase.
Rollo: Hey!
Rollo fires the sonic gun after him, but misses. He follows him up the stairs to the landing. Mephistopheles suddenly appears, battle-axe in hand, and lunges at Rollo. Rollo steps aside, and Mephistopheles’ momentum carries him over the railing to his death. Rollo goes downstairs and throws Laslo over his shoulder and exits.
Shot of the submarine in the cove.
Flash’s voice: Don’t move, boys, I’ve got you covered.
Gustav: Gott in Himmel!
Flash: Warm up this tin sardine. We’re going home.
Fade in on the office of the Leader. The attaché case is on the desk, and the information is in his hand. Rollo and Flash stand by.
Leader: Wonderful job, men. I want both of you to take a month’s vacation. Believe me, you’ve more than earned it.
Cut to outside of Interpol building, as Rollo and Flash exit.
Rollo: Well Flash, what do you intend to do with your month’s leave of absence?
Flash: How can you expect me to answer that question today? Only Tamara can tell.
This is GM's most extensive solo screenplay ("Holy Shit!", our joint effort, tops it by a few pages) and highly dialogue heavy. That wouldn't have served as any impediment to production, as he'd by then upgraded to a sound camera. It was written primarily for his girlfriend, who would have starred in the title role; comix barbarian queen Red Sonja was red-hot at the time and most likely served as inspiration. I'm not sure I was ever intended to take part… he and I had a few spats during our association, and this may have occurred during one of them. There certainly isn't any character part I remember being assigned; special effects requirements, meanwhile (consisting mostly of foreground forced-perspective miniatures, a technique we'd become quite comfortable using on the Commander Duck TV show), wouldn't have posed any particular problem for him to handle alone. The major production hangup was evidently his failure to acquire horses for the early scenes. The party could have traveled on foot, I suppose, but it's not my place to question his specific vision of the film. My non-involvement wouldn't have troubled me all that much; Hyperborean fantasy isn't my favorite genre of film. I enjoyed John Milius's Conan movie well enough, but its glut of imitators all too often descended into lazy rote: a dispossessed muscle-bound warrior braves the wrath of a weaselly magician for sake of some mystical iron-age gewgaw… the whole slathered in fatiguing cliche trappings and a mudslide of arbitrary-sounding person and place names. Aurora of Borealis unfortunately hews pretty faithfully to much of that tired formula. It also dislocates its shoulder trying to pat itself on the back for its sexual progressiveness… another annoying tendency of the time:
An Introduction
to
Aurora of Borealis
Off-screen voice: Ladies and gentlemen, Prof. Quincy Adams Wagstaff.
Prof.: Hello.
The recent discovery of the Prangirian scrolls in a European cavern allows the presentation, for the first time anywhere, of the legend of Queen Aurora--Aurora of Borealis.
Aurora lived during the so-called Hyperbolean Age, a period of time completely unknown to scholars before the unearthing of these chronicles. The events you are about to witness occurred countless centuries before the rise of the Egyptian civilization in the lush crescent of the Nile.
To help you better understand the historical re-creation you are about to see, permit me to show you this translation of one of the Prangirian maps, the work of the eminent Doctor James Koshi of Tokyo. Although there has been some controversy over Doctor Koshi's version of this particular map, I have selected it as being the most comprehensive I have had the pleasure to encounter.
This, then, was the world of the Hyperbolean Age: Frozen Borealis, with its mountains of ice; mysterious Sha-Mar Island; arboreal Tajumuclo, where dwelled the Forest People; gay Talaria, a nation of hedonists; sunny Kahsildar, with its infamous port town of Tassajawar; and, hemmed in on all sides by encroaching civilization, a treacherous patch of wilderness known only as the Dark Domain.
Such was the world in the time of Queen Aurora.
Aurora of Borealis
by
GM
Dramatis Personae
Aurora of Borealis, Queen of the Arctic Regions
Deja Vu, handmaiden to Her Royal Highness
Ambassador Fang, lately returned from Talaria
Margrave, Sinister Master of the Black Arts
Celcius, half-human servant of the sorcerer
The Masked Oracle of the Shrine of Kaluustra
First Barbarian
Second Barbarian
The Tavern Keeper
Ghoulies and Ghosties and Long-Legged Beasties
A Lizard Man A Pteranodon
A Wolf Demon A Skull Demon
The Great Dragon
The title "A Royal Film" appears, red letters in a black void.
As a swirling white mist fills the screen, these letters disappear.
Narrator: Somewhere between the dawn of time and the beginning of recorded history sprawled the Hyperbolean Age... let us return to a time when the Earth was not yet fully formed... an era of jagged landscapes and iron gray skies...a time when gods and monsters walked with men...
The first somber chords of title music sound.
Fade into main title; all other titles and credits follow.
It is night. The camera comes upon a crude, unpainted structure. A sign over its door reads:
YE OLDE SIX-TOED SALOON
OLDE SIX-TOES, PROP.
The door swings open, and we enter the smokey, dimly-lit tavern. After the obligatory smokey atmosphere shots, the camera centers on two of the many patrons.
First Barbarian: The saucy wench with the silver mane--the one who drinks like a man--who might she be?
Second Barbarian: She is the near-legendary Aurora of Borealis--Queen of the Arctic Regions, mistress of the enchanted sword of Sha-Mar Island.
First Barbarian: Impressive credentials indeed for one so young and fair. Pray tell, what brings her so far from he homeland?
Second Barbarian: Some say a mission of diplomacy. Beyond that, I know not and, in truth, I care not. Much misery awaits he who pries too closely into the affairs of Queen Aurora.
Moving on, the camera turns its attention to the table occupied by Queen Aurora and her personal servant, Deja Vu.
Deja Vu: I like not this place, O Queen.
Aurora: Why not, sister? It is only a mead hall, like any other.
Deja Vu: All the same, I wish our task be done, that we might quit this clime for good and all.
Aurora: Aye, that would suit me well. Perhaps when...
Aurora looks up sharply. We see what she sees: a tall figure, clad in armor, has entered the tavern. The warrior checks his spear and shield with the tavern keeper.
Aurora: Behold, sister--the ambassador has arrived.
The warrior bows before Queen Aurora.
Fang: My sovereign.
Aurora: Arise, O Lord. You are acquainted with my newest handmaiden?
Fang: In truth, your majesty, I have not had that pleasure.
Aurora: Ambassador Fang, this be Deja Vu, a gift from the Forest People of Tajumulco. Deja, this be Fang, ambassador to the court of King Talipomanus of Talaria.
The wilderness of Deja's sparkling eyes indicate that she is quite impressed with the handsome ambassador.
Fang: Charmed.
Deja: Oh, your lordship.
Aurora produces a small scroll.
Aurora: Enough pleasantry. I understand from this communication that you bring an important message from King Talipomanus. However, I understand not what darksome secrecy requires we meet here, in this savage border country.
Fang: I shall endeavor to clear these muddy waters for your majesty.
The tavern keeper arrives with a tankard for his new patron; the ambassador holds his tongue until the man departs.
Fang: As you may have heard, the treasury of Talaria was recently broken into and plundered.
Aurora: Indeed, I did hear of such an incident. But I understand that the thieves escaped with virtually nothing.
Fang: Truth be known, only one item was taken.
Deja: Only one?
Fang: Only one, yes, but one of such unparalleled value and magnificence as to pale all other treasures into insignificance.
Aurora: Enough of these riddles. Speak not like an ambassador, but rather speak plainly, and in the common tongue. What was the thing stolen?
Fang: A ring--a magic ring.
The ambassador leans forward, a hush descending over his tones.
Fang: The Emerald Eye of Dongola.
Deja gasps; Aurora's eyebrows shoot heaven-ward.
Fang: To the one who knows how to invoke its powers, all things will be possible.
Aurora: Does Talipomanus know the identity of the thieves?
Fang: Some mercenaries. When they were apprehended, the ring was no longer in their possession. Even torture failed to loosen their tongues.
Aurora: Why does the King of Talaria have you tell me all this?
Fang: Every attempt his majesty has made to trace the ring has come to nought. It is his wish...
Aurora: Talaria has been a good ally. I will do what I can to help.
Reaching into the folds of his cloak, the ambassador produces a scroll.
Fang: In return for this service, King Talipomanus bestows three of his finest ships for the use of our navy.
Aurora: You may tell his highness his gift is most acceptable. And now, as to the searching out of the Emerald Eye...
Deja: Wherever will we begin, your majesty?
Aurora: We will consult with the Masked Oracle of Kaluustra, a most gifted prophet.
The queen rises to her feet.
Aurora: Come--the Shrine of Kaluustra lies less than half a league away.
She drops some coins on the table and exits. Deja and the ambassador gulp their drinks and follow.
The camera pans to a near-by table. Its single occupant, a sinister figure completely concealed beneath a hooded robe, plunks down a solitary coin and rises, trailing Aurora and her compatriots. As he passes into the night, we catch a glimpse of something unnatural projecting from the stranger's rear. It is a scaly, barbed tail.
This bizarre protuberance does not go unnoticed. The first barbarian rudely elbows his snoring companion into wakefulness.
Second Barbarian: Huh? (Snort.) Wha' izzit?
First Barbarian: It strikes me that yon stranger has something unnatural projecting from his rear.
The second barbarian investigates this statement; nought but an empty doorway greets his gaze. Turning glaring eyes on his comrade, he deftly deprives the hapless fellow of his tankard, employing a flourish of which Oliver Hardy could justly be proud.
It is still night. We are confronted by a sign, chiseled in granite:
THE SHRINE OF
KALUUSTRA
And another sign, underneath:
THE ORACLE
IS IN
The oracle, his visage encased in a golden mask, sits cross-legged between two smoking braziers. Pulling back, the camera reveals that our three friends kneel before the holy man.
Aurora: ... and that be our quest, o master. Can you aid us in locating the Emerald Eye of Dongola?
Oracle: Let me touch the case in which the ring was kept.
Fang: Yes, o holy one.
Scooping a hand into his robes, the ambassador produces a jewelry box in the shape of a camel. He hands it to his queen, who in turn places it in the gnarled hands of the oracle.
A CU of the oracle's hands, as his finger-tips explore the curves and crevices of the camel effigy.
His eyes, the only part of his face not hidden by his mask, vanish as he presses his eyelids tightly shut.
Oracle: I see a castle... Nay, more a fortress... And in this fortress, I see a tall man... All garbed in black... The ring is on his finger... An evil man... Possessing much arcane knowledge...
Aurora: A wizard! It is precisely as I suspected.
Deja: (whispering to Fang) It is precisely as I feared.
Oracle: A strange man... More than a mere man, really, yet somehow less... A creature of darkness...
There is an extreme CU, as a wicked, gleaming, convoluted dagger is extracted from a hollow bamboo tube.
Oracle: Hold, the veil is lifting... I can now discern the man's features...
The holy man's trio of visitors lean forward in rapt attention.
Oracle: It is...
A heavy thud mars the silence of this last pregnant pause.
Oracle: (a hoarse whisper) ... the sorcerer Margrave.
These three words prove to be the prophet's last. He slumps forward, dead. Behind him stands the sinister stranger from the tavern, the convoluted dagger clutched in his hand. A stream of scarlet drips from the silver blade.
Aurora: Prang's blood! The slaying of a holy oracle be the foulest of blasphemies!
The dark figure bound over the corpse, landing in the midst of our heroes. Ripping his hood away, he reveals an inhuman, reptilian visage.
Saurian: Stand aside, barbarian--it it Aurora's heart I seek!
The enchanted sword of Sha-Mar Island is pulled free from its scabbard.
Aurora: Then so be it, slime-drinker. But it will not be Aurora's red blood that stains this soil: it will be thine own.
Now comes the time for Aurora and her adversary to size each other up. The saurian favors the queen with an unnerving display of precision swordsmanship, cleanly shearing away the upper halves of a half dozen candles with one quick stroke of his blade. It is now Aurora's turn. The sword of Sha-Mar whistles past a row of three candles; these tapers continue to stand, seemly untouched. A low, nasty laugh escapes the saurian throat. His mirth is cut short as her majesty uses her sword point to topple the upper half of each candle to the floor, revealing that the entire trio was expertly sliced by her earlier pass.
Before the saurian can recover his wits, Aurora unleashes a blood-freezing war whoop, simultaneously sending the toe of her boot into her opponent's groin. The saurian's involuntary muscle reactions impel his body to jack-knife at the waist. A slash of Aurora's saber neatly decapitates the monster. Stunned disbelief prompts Deja Vu and the ambassador to blink their eyes in unison. Aurora coolly wipes the saurian's bodily fluids from her weapon.
Aurora: I was in error--the creature bleeds green.
The eye of the camera drifts floor-ward, coming to rest on one of the candles severed by Aurora. Miraculously, it has landed upright, and only now does its light begin to fail. We cut to:
A sparse flame adorns the bewicked summit of a slime-green candle. The wax has been carved into an effigy of the saurian. The camera pulls back to reveal a dog-faces human, incongruously clad in gay jester's togs, who earnestly watches the rapidly altering state of the tiny point of light. Within a few moments, the flame has guttered and died.
The eye of the camera continues to glide backward until a man's hand dominates the foreground. It is the only visible portion of the gentleman's anatomy, and it rests its weight on the arm of an ornate chair. Gloved in black, the Emerald Eye of Dongola residing on one of its fingers, the hand holds a crudely twisted cigar. Throughout the following exchange the ebony appendage rises and falls, a puff of smoke from unseen lips rewarding these efforts.
Scuttling across the floor, the anthropomorphic canine parks his chin on the opposite chair arm.
Celcius: The saurian is dead, sire.
The necromancer uses his free hand to caress the dog/servant, much as one would stroke a beloved pet.
Margrave: I know, faithful Celcius. But in the scheme of things his death matters little. What matters is that he failed to silence the oracle in time; my identity is now known. I must ponder the immensities of this development.
Fade to black.
Fade in on a sunrise, or what passes for a sunrise in the perpetually dark and mist-choked world of the Hyperbolean Age. Aurora, Deja, and the ambassador stand at the foot of a steep rise.
Aurora: We be within a league of Eagle's Rook.
Fang: Another name for Margrave's castle?
Aurora: Aye--the magician's own. Beyond this rim lies the Valley of Desolation. After a few hours rest, the ambassador and I will proceed into the valley--on foot, the better to reduce our visibility.
Deja: What of me, O Queen?
Aurora: You shall remain here with the horses until we return--if we return.
Fang gulps audibly.
Deja: And in the event you should... not... return?
Aurora: If I do not present myself here within a fortnight, you may consider yourself freed from bondage. You may have my mount, as well as your own, as gifts.
Fang: Mine, too--should it come to that.
Deja: Thank you, your majesty, my lord--although it be my most fervent wish that such an event may never come to pass.
Aurora: (to Fang) When we have gained the environs of the sorcerer's stronghold, we will pause and study, searching for the most advantageous point at which to obtain entry to the edifice. Then we shall wait for the mantle of night to cover our activities.
Fade to black.
Fade in on Aurora and the ambassador as they trudge across the barren wastes of the Valley of Desolation. Just as they gain the crest of a rise, their undivided attention is captured by a piercing, inhuman cry. They look upward and to their left.
We see what they see: A pteranodon perched atop an outcropping of bare rock, its outstretched wings vibrating in the afternoon breeze.
Aurora: By the great god Gonk!
Fang: What... what manner of monstrosity be that?
Aurora: They are called Mountain Boomers. At one time, the entire continent was their domain. Now they are largely confined to this valley.
Fang: Prang be praised for small favors.
Aurora: Make no sudden movements; the creature has not seen us. Perhaps we may yet slip past unnoticed.
The barbarians have not taken even a full step before the winged horror jerks an eye in their direction. A screech of triumph tears from the reptile's throat.
Aurora: Blood and damnation!
Drawing her sword from its scabbard, the Queen of Borealis uses her free arm to sweep the ambassador safely behind her voluptuous form.
Subjective shot, Aurora's point of view: The pteranodon swoops murderously down.
The sky killer makes a low pass over our heroes; Aurora slashes angrily, but the sword of Sha-Mar misses its mark. The dinosaur's second dive brings a leathery wing crashing into Aurora's shoulder, sending both her and the ambassador sprawling. Recovering more quickly than the stunned Aurora (who, after all, has suffered a direct hit), the ambassador snatches up his spear. Grim determination radiates from his features.
Subjective shot, Ambassador Fang's point of view: The pteranodon plummets ruthlessly for the kill.
Holding back until the penultimate moment, his lordship expertly unleashes his fury. The spear lancinates the animal's right wing, ripping itself free as the creature jerks away. Its ability to fly seriously impaired, the pteranodon flutters unsteadily into the glare of the afternoon sun. The ambassador tenderly assists Aurora to her feet.
Aurora: Nay, my lord. Thou hast acquitted thyself with skill and honor; this, I shall not forget.
Fang: My blushes, your majesty--my blushes, and my gratitude.
Aurora proffers her good right arm, and they clasp in the Roman centurion manner. The monarch glances toward the heavens.
Aurora: The sun grows old. Come, my warrior--we can delay no longer.
Fade to black.
It is night. Mist enshrouds Margrave's castle, its white tentacles lazily creeping about the walls and towers.
Within the fortress, Celcius busies himself with a "ball-and-cup" device. It amusement value quickly dissipates, however. Casting the toy aside, the anthropomorphic pooch scampers to where Margrave broods, his gaunt figure still enthroned as before.
Celcius: I miss the saurian, master. There in no one to play with.
The clouds lift from Margrave's mind, and his expression visibly lightens.
Margrave: That is quite a problem. I know--tomorrow I shall order another one sent up from the saurian colony in Kahsildar.
Celcius: Truly?
Margrave: Truly.
Celcius falls to kissing Margrave's hand. The magician smiles indulgently. Suddenly, Margrave stiffens, his hand flying to his temple. His eyes close in concentration.
Margrave: Hold.
Celcius creases his forthright display of gratitude. After a few moments, Margrave opens his eyes and plucks an orange from a nearby bowl of fruit.
Margrave: Observe, Celcius. An orange from sunny Kahsildar.
Margrave rubs his free hand (the one bearing the Emerald Eye of Dongola) over the rind-covered fruit, and it becomes a crystal orb. The eyes of Celcius grow very wide indeed.
Celcius: Oooh!
The sorcerer peers into the depths of the glowing sphere.
Margrave: You see, Celcius. Our guests are preparing to scale the castle wall.
The dog/servant awkwardly cranes his neck in an effort to confirm his master's analysis.
Margrave: Come, Celcius--we must go and welcome our visitors.
We cut to a low-level shot of Margrave's buckled shoes. As the sorcerer stands, an ordinary orange strikes the floor and rolls away.
Aurora and Fang stand at the base of one of the great castle walls.
Aurora: Only the northernmost tower of the castle be lighted. That makes this the least conspicuous point of entry.
Fang: But, your highness--this is naught but a solid wall, bereft of doorway, window, or even crevice.
Dipping into her robes, the swordswoman produces a coiled rope, one end of which terminates in a wicked-looking steel hook.
Aurora: This be our key.
She brandishes the device under Fang's nose, and we notice that the rope has been knotted at regular intervals.
Fang: This cord--it is so thin. Are you sure it will bear my weight?
Aurora: It would bear thrice the weight of the heaviest man in Borealis. This rope be a gift from a mighty enchantress. It was woven from the tails of Tajumulcan centaurs, which she harvested whilst they slept, and steeped in the deadly wine of the togos tree, to give it strength.
The sorcerer and his servant appear on the parapet directly above our two adventurers. With the nervous air of one who transports a cup too full of steaming coffee, the canine jester carries a tray full of flasks and bottles. Peering gingerly over the rim, Margrave sights the would-be intruders. He speaks to Celcius in a low voice.
Margrave: Hold--the wench and her lackey are directly below us.
Aurora spins the hook, then sends it flying upward into the darkness. Cautiously stepping back, Margrave avoids the rocketing barb. He has pulled Celcius with him, so neither of them are harmed in the slightest. The steel implement lands at their feet. The queen pulls at the line; the hook catches snugly on the rim of the parapet.
Firm tugging, and then mighty pulling fail to dislodge the gleaming device. Aurora beams at her comrade.
Aurora: Luck the first cast!
Fang: Let us hope it is a portent of good fortune yet to come.
Meanwhile, up on the parapet, Margrave selects a flask from the tray, pouring the rather noxious-looking liquid therein into a glass tube, which he then lightly corks. As the necromancer replaces the master container on the tray, Celcius miscalculates the shift in weight, almost dropping his cargo. The magician wags an admonishing finger at the poor fellow.
Margrave: Have a care, good Celcius. Elsewise, we shall end up in even sorrier circumstances than those that will shortly befall our friends below.
Aurora braces a foot against the wall.
Aurora: I will go first--follow me closely.
Tensing her every muscle, her majesty begins her long climb.
Extending a bony index finger, Margrave projects a magical bolt. Sparks fly from the point at which the rope joins the hook, burning away this connection.
The queen lands heavily on his lordship. Still a tangle of arms and legs, the adventurers nonetheless manage to locate the charred end of the cord and examine it.
Aurora: Only the fires of hell could sear such a rope as this!
Removing a brightly-colored scarf from his sleeve, Margrave waves mockingly at our heroes, imitating the mannerisms of a court dandy.
Margrave: Yoo-hoo!
Celcius giggles his delight at this impersonation.
Aurora: Margrave!
As Aurora and the ambassador scramble to their feet, the necromancer casually tosses the glass tube over the parapet. Landing at the barbarian's feet, the vessel cracks asunder, releasing an abundancy of dense, choking vapors. The hapless duo rapidly succumb.
Fade in on Deja Vu, as she builds a small fire to stand against the cold of the coming night.
Fade to black.
Fade in on the sprawled forms of Aurora and the ambassador, as the first tremors of returning consciousness bestir their limbs. The camera pulls back, disclosing the location to be one of the castle chambers.
Margrave observes this reviving process from his throne. His chin rests upon his clasped hands, which in turn rest upon the snarling head of the wooden dragon that entwines itself around his sorcerer's staff. Celcius lies comfortably curled about his master's feet.
Awake, but far from alert, Ambassador Fang perceives his surroundings through unclear senses.
Fang: Can this be the next world, to which are consigned the souls of the dead?
Aurora: Thy brains be still befogged by magician's mist. We awake in the power of the sorcerer.
Margrave rises to his feet, rudely jostling Celcius into wakefulness.
Margrave: An astute observation, your highness. For that is precisely what you are--in my power.
Balefully glaring up at the wizard through her eyebrows, Aurora allows her fingers to snake instinctively for the hilt of her sword.
Margrave: Prang's blood---what a baleful glare! Have a care, lest you wound my tender soul.
The sorcerer momentarily tuns his back on her majesty. Her lips curling into a vicious snarl, Aurora leaps to her feet and draws her weapon, all in the same fluid motion.
Celcius: Master!
Whirling about, Margrave performs a mystic pass. A single strand of golden chain encircles the queen, pinioning her arms to the side of her body. The enchanted sword clangs to the floor.
Margrave: Not so fast, you royal trollop!
Aurora struggles futilely against her bonds.
Aurora: Bong's bladder!
With some difficulty, the ambassador gains his feet. Margrave gestures, instantly shackling Fang's arms in the same manner as Aurora's.
Fang: What was that for?
Margrave: Practice.
Well pleased with this last bon mot, the magician employs his ring hand to stroke his beard.
CU of Fang's eyes as they widen dramatically.
CU of Fang's lips as he speaks.
Fang: (a whisper) The ring! He wears the ring!
Margrave glances at the item with studied nonchalance.
Margrave: Oh, yes--I wondered when you would get around to that.
Aurora: You know what we came for, then?
Margrave: Oh my, yes. I saw Lord Fang many times at the Talarain court. He was always too occupied with Princess Twila and her ladies-in-waiting to pay the slightest attention to me, however.
Aurora glares at his lordship.
Fang: It... it never interfered with my duties as ambassador, your majesty... I swear it!
Margrave: In truth, no one paid me the slightest attention--until it was too late. The arrangements were made; the gem was stolen. By the time the theft was discovered, I was safely here, leaving that fat fool Talipomanus to rave and rant and tear at the draperies.
Margrave directly addresses the ambassador.
Margrave: I knew when Talipomanus dispatched you, and I followed your progress to the...
Fang: Followed? I detected no one following me.
Margrave: You barbarians have such trouble comprehending abstract concepts... I meant I followed your progress mentally, saw it in my mind's eye. Omniscience is one of the stone's smaller gifts.
Fang: My apologies.
Margrave: Accepted. As I was saying, I followed your progress to the point at which the borders of Talaria, and Borealis, and the Dark Domain converge.
On the words "Dark Domain", the sorcerer points downward, indicating that such is their present location.
Margrave: I anticipated the meeting at the tavern and dispatched a servant of my own to be present. I saw all through his eyes, and heard all through his ears, pointed and scaly as the latter may have been.
Aurora: The saurian!
Margrave nods, acknowledging the truth of this assumption.
Margrave: When he failed to stop your majesty, I reconsidered my decision to destroy your party, ultimately arriving at several interesting conclusions. But more about that later.
Fang: The wizards of the Talarian court were unable to conjure any spells from that bejeweled band. How came you by such knowledge?
Margrave: My very decision to acquire the ring was prompted by another, earlier acquisition...
Margrave taps the cover of a great leather-bound book.
Margrave: ... the legendary Book of All Knowledge.
Both prisoners gasp.
Margrave: I see you have heard of this tome. There is one entire chapter devoted to the Emerald Eye of Dongola. Much of this I have deciphered--enough to know that full power over the ring's properties must come from the outer sphere.
The eyes of Aurora narrow calculatingly.
Aurora: Then you are not yet omnipotent, wordy one?
Margrave: How astute you are, Queen Aurora: I am indeed some small distance from that goal. Oh, I can materialize chains, transmogrify lesser substances into richer ones...
Here, the sorcerer fleetingly inspects one of the Kahsildarian oranges.
Margrave: ... cast my vision through the vastness of the universe... All parlor tricks compared to what I will accomplish when total control over this bauble is mine. And you, your highness, shall aid me in obtaining that objective.
Aurora: I?
Margrave: As I mentioned earlier, dominance over the ring must come as a gift from an otherworldly source--not just from a demon, but from the prince of demons...
Margrave: Of course, like all good black magicians, I make a yearly sacrifice to the cacodemon. Oh, I could have delivered up to him some yowling peasant girl, torn from her village home, as I have in the past. But this year I desire something beyond my customary requests for Lord Prang's goodwill and protection. This being true, I must offer the dark one something special--an attraction unique--a queen!
Fang: You devil!
Aurora is seething, possessed of the sort of absolute calm that is available only to one in the grip of monumental anger.
Aurora: You will pay dearly for this insult, magician.
Margrave: Enough of this flummery. Behold!
The magician extends his arm, the staff of sorcery firmly within his grasp. He adjusts it until it is diagonal to the floor, the serpent's head on the higher end. Slowly he relaxes he grip, finally removing his hand entirely. The staff remains where it is, frozen in time and space. Margrave raises his hand aloft.
Margrave:
O Prince of Darkness,
O Spirit of the Pit…
Lightning and thunder.
Margrave:
I command thee
To make thy
Most evil appearance.
More donner and blitzen.
Margrave:
I conjure thee
In the name of Balor.
I adjure thee
In the name of Phorcys.
Appear, appear, appear!
Crossing his arms, the sorcerer gestures toward the floor on either side of him. Twin plumes of colored smoke rise from each spot. Slowly, the smoke solidifies into two monstrous figures. One is a crimson skeleton garbed in gold and silk; the other is a brutish man-wolf, armed to the teeth.
Celcius prostrates himself before the apparitions; Margrave bows gracefully low.
Margrave: Greetings, O Terrible One. Your journey from the outer world was a pleasant one, I trust?
Prang nods.
Margrave: (rubbing his hands together) Well, shall we get right to business, then? This time I have far surpassed...
The Lord of Demons raises a bony hand, silencing the wizard. He glides toward Aurora.
Fear fills the eyes of Aurora, but she steadfastly stands her ground.
Circling her majesty, the unearthly visitor runs coldly appraising eyes over her being. He caresses a strand of silver hair, prompting Aurora to shudder, then jerk away in defiance.
As the cacodemon strolls away, Fang leans forward to whisper in Aurora's ear.
Fang: Methinks he likes what he sees.
Lord Prang nods his approval to an anxious Margrave.
Margrave: Quite right, my lord. It is only fitting and correct that a bride of Prang be proud and haughty.
Fang: (still a whisper) What did I tell you!
Now we see that it is Prang who whispers in Margrave's ear. The necromancer listens intently, nods, then addresses his prisoners. The camera holds on a three-shot of Margrave and the demons.
Margrave: It is customary that the prospective addition to milord's harem choose a champion to fight for her honor. In the spirit of fairness, you understand. After all, we are not monsters.
These is a pause for the irony of this statement to soak in.
Margrave crosses to Fang and gingerly tests the ambassador's muscles.
Margrave: (to Aurora) You could do worse than this one.
Aurora: No man fights Aurora's battles. (Fang looks much relieved.) I fight for myself--for sisterhood--and for Borealis!
Margrave: Very pretty. Do you realize that yon shaggy incubus will be thy opponent?
Aurora: I care not.
Margrave: Well, it is highly irregular.
Prang nods his approval.
Margrave: But... so be it.
The skull-faced demon gestures in the direction of his servant. The wolfish creature stirs slightly, its eyes blazing into crimson awareness.
Margrave snaps his fingers, and Aurora's chains fall. As she bends to retrieve her sword, Celcius scampers to her side.
Celcius: Allow me, your highness.
He reaches for the weapon.
Margrave: Celcius! No!
A clenching gesture from the magician paralyzes the anthropomorphic canine.
Celcius: Mas... master...
Margrave: Your courtly manners please me, Celcius, but they prove most untimely. To touch the sword of Sha-Mar while its rightful owner still lives is to perish horribly.
Aurora: You are wise, magician.
Margrave: The Book of All Knowledge contains much information for the diligent scholar.
The unclenching of Margrave's hand releases Celcius, who scampers away. Aurora plucks up her weapon. Sword firmly in hand, a challenge lighting her eyes, she faces her bestial adversary. The incubus unsheathes a mighty scimitar. He crouches, assuming a fighting stance. Prang gestures toward the contestants.
Margrave: Let the contest begin!
A war whoop rockets from her majesty's throat. She lunges with lightning-like speed, plunging her blade deeply into the abdomen of the wolfish demon. Barking a bitter laugh, she pulls free her weapon.
Aurora: Prang's champion! Never has it been so easy!
The creature continues to advance on our heroine.
Margrave: The blade does not exist that can harm him. (The wizard smiles wryly.) That's the hell of it.
Aurora wages a desperate, hopeless battle against the supernatural being.
Margrave delivers an aside to Celcius.
Margrave: Pacts with demons are sealed with blood, you know. The shaggy one has but to scratch her, and she will be Prang's forever.
Celcius: Oooh!
Edging back to Fang, Aurora strikes swiftly, cutting his chains. He draws his sword, joining his monarch in battle.
Margrave: Two swords will be no more effective than one. You but prolong your agony.
Aurora: (to Fang) We must confuse the creature. I have a plan--follow my example.
They taunt their opponent mercilessly, each in turn whacking him on the bottom with the flat of their blades as he turns to face one, then the other. When the incubus is properly dazzled by Borealian swordplay, Aurora again lances his midriff. She gives a derisive laugh.
Aurora: Behold the mighty warrior! Skewered like a roasting pig!
With an angry grunt, the wolfish one grasps the sword and pulls it free. Prang and Margrave jump as though burned.
Margrave: Touch not the hilt of Aurora's sword!
The warning, of course, comes too late. Howling for all the world like a stuck pig, the incubus vanishes in a column of flame, leaving only the enchanted sword of Sha-Mar Island. Celcius gulps audibly.
Celcius: Is that what would have befallen me, Master?
Margrave: Aye.
Celcius: Gosh!
Shaking his head sadly, Prang draws his cloak about his person and disappears.
Margrave: My liege--wait!
The sorcerer whirls to face Aurora.
Margrave: Slattern! Trollop! Tavern wench! You have cost me my one chance for absolute power!
Aurora calmly retrieves her weapon.
Aurora: Tough bananas.
Grasping the serpent's head handle of his staff, the magician yanks it free of the shaft, revealing a gleaming blade.
Margrave: Defend thyself!
Clang upon clang fills the air, as Aurora and Margrave clash. The duel is exciting, but short: Margrave lies on the stone floor, Aurora's blade tickling his Adam's apple.
Aurora: As you value your life, yield the Emerald Eye of Dongola to me.
Unnoticed by the queen, Margrave shifts his bejeweled hand slightly.
Margrave: The ring points toward your ambassador. If you so much as prick me, I will turn his guts to yogurt.
Celcius: Yeech!
A tense moment passes. Sweat bleeds from the brows of both Fang and the sorcerer. Resignation writes itself across Aurora's features. She lowers her weapon and turns away. Margrave and the ambassador visibly relax. Without warning, Aurora whirls, smiting Margrave's ring hand from his wrist. She scoops up the disembodied appendage. The wizard stares in disbelief at his oozing stump.
Margrave: (with deliberate calm) Oh, shite.
Queen Aurora pauses long enough to acquire the Book of All Knowledge. She starts to exit, but notices that Fang stands staring at the wounded magician, too stunned to budge. She slaps him on the fanny with the broad side of her sword. The ambassador blinks into awareness.
Aurora: We've outstayed our welcome. Let us away.
They exit. Still calm, Margrave speaks without once removing his eyes from his stump.
Margrave: Celcius.
Celcius: Yes, Master?
Margrave: Go to the cabinet and look in the second drawer. Bring me what you find.
Celcius scampers to the cabinet, pulls open the drawer. We see the contents: a disembodied nose, a jar filled with eyeballs, a severed right hand. The servant stands, perplexed.
Margrave: (more weary than distraught) The hand, Celcius--the hand.
Understanding brightens Celcius's features. He delivers the desired item.
Margrave: (with some irony) Thank you.
Placing the hand in his empty sleeve, the warlock adjusts it until its position suits him. CU of Celcius's face, as Margrave mutters some incantations.
Margrave:
Galbez, galbath...
Galbez, galbath.
Wonderment lights Celcius's pan. Margrave still holds his wrist, but not he flexes the fingers of his new hand. A long sigh of relief escapes his lips.
Margrave: A simple spell, easily accomplished without the ring.
Celcius: (suddenly reminded of the theft) The ring! Master, she has the ring!
Margrave: Aye. But only for the nonce.
Celcius: What are you going to do, master?
Margrave: I shall mentally possess the Nameless One.
Celcius: O master! What of the danger?
Margrave: It is true. The bond will be strong. His hurt will be my hurt; his pain, my pain. But his triumph will also be mine.
The sorcerer closes his eyes. His brow knits in concentration.
Margrave:
Spirit of the night.
With eyes so bright,
Join with me.
Spirit of the night,
With coils of might,
Join with me.
Join, join, join!
Join, join, join!
We are back in the Valley of Desolation with Aurora and the ambassador. They are just topping a rise, when a primeval roar gobbles the silence.
Fang: What... what was that?
Aurora: I thought it be too easy.
The roar sounds again. A great, befanged serpent, black and terrible, rises before them. After the initial shock dissipates, Aurora unsheathes her weapon.
Aurora: For Borealis!
Brandishing his spear, the ambassador restrains her highness.
Fang: Your majesty--this one's on me.
Fang does battle with the monster. One particular expert slash opens the Nameless Ones cheek. A cut-away, as Margrave's cheek splits in the same manner. Celcius, beside himself with anxiety, begins to whimper.
Margrave: Silence, Celcius. I must concentrate.
Grim determination grips Margrave's features. The tide turns, as the hellspawn snatches Fang's spear and spits it away. Fang draws his sword, but the monstrosity knocks the hapless ambassador to the ground. Its gluttonous jaws stretch wide. Disembodied laughter blends with the creature's snarls. CU of Margrave's face. The laughter is his. With the speed of a warrior born, Aurora grasps the discarded spear and drives it deeply into the living nightmare's throat. Margrave's hand flies to his throat. Blood spurts between his clenched fingers. One last trumpet from its ruptured larynx, and the Nameless One flops lifelessly to the sand. Aurora helps the ambassador to his feet.
Dawn flares in the eastern sky. Deja Vu warms her hands before the dying fire. She looks up sharply, as Aurora and the ambassador appear.
Deja: Oh, your majesty! I prayed to the great Gonk for thy safe return! The gods be praised!
She lays her weeping face against Aurora's breast.
Aurora: You... prayed for my return? Even though it meant you would remain in bondage?
Deja: Aye, my queen. You have been a wise and fair mistress, and I have come to love thee for it.
Aurora: Thy words have the ring of truth, and thy tears be genuine. Such devotion must be rewarded.
Aurora lifts Deja's face to hers.
Aurora: You are a free woman, Deja Vu. I release thee from thy bondage. So have I said, so shall it be.
Deja: (bowing deeply and kissing Aurora's hand) I am not worthy.
Aurora: You must never speak those words again. Stand tall, stand proud, and be thine own woman.
Aurora turns her attention to the ambassador.
Aurora: Lord Fang, I hereby relieve you of your ambassadorship. We shall send the ring via another messenger.
Fang: Your majesty, I...
Aurora: (averting her eyes) I have grown weary of my present consort. He will take your place in Talaria: you will take his place with me. That is my desire.
Fang: (pleased, but blushing) Your highness, it is my turn to say, "I am not worthy."
Aurora: (with a trace of humor) That we will see presently.
A thought strikes the former ambassador.
Fang: What of the Book of All Knowledge?
Aurora: Since the Emerald Eye is pretty but useless without it, I will keep the book myself. In this way, Talipomanus and I may trust each other completely, and the treaties between our countries can remain strong.
Fang: But Talaria already be our closest ally. Much good could be accomplished if both book and ring were in the proper hands. And Talipomanus is a good man.
Aurora: I prefer his goodness remain untested. I hate being disillusioned.
Aurora releases an extended sigh of relief from the depths of her soul. She puts an arm around each of her companions and gives them a little squeeze.
Aurora: Come... I am weary of this foul country. My eyes long for Borealis, and the purity of her mountains and ice.
Arm in arm, they advance toward the camera, their forms blotting out the scene and plunging the screen into darkness.
Fade in on Eagle's Rook. In the main chamber, Celcius is just putting the finishing touches on an elaborate bandage encircling Margrave's throat. Margrave gazes deeply within a crystal and broods. Finally, he can tolerate what he sees no longer, and casts the sphere away. A simple orange strikes the stone wall. Celcius cringes.
Margrave: Aurora may think herself victorious, but she errs badly. The winning of a single battle has yet to decide a war. The Book of All Knowledge and the Emerald Eye of Dongola will yet be mine, on that you can rely.
Breaking off these musings, the sorcerer turns his attentions to the man-dog.
Margrave: Oh, Celcius...
Celcius: Yes, master?
Margrave: Go to the cabinet and see if there are any decent necks left.
Celcius bows and starts to exit. An after-thought occurs to Margrave, and he calls after the departing servant.
Radio Man hearkens back to the era of pulp fiction heroics, a genre that had always held special interest for GM and into which style he'd often dipped his toe (primarily in the '60s by way of mimeographed fan magazines, an antediluvian precursor of the sort of fiction-sharing we do far more perfunctorily here on these internet forums). This particular script is distinctive in that it was meant to be the first in a connected series (each of story's Ministry members would have had a crack at our hero) and that it was intended to be shot on videotape rather than film. The increasing popularity of home video had made super-8 film difficult to find on store shelves; VHS tape was rapidly becoming our sole amateur option. GM went into the project fully committed… he'd put together all the special costuming that would have been required and we shot several of the scenes, including a few impressive FX tests. Unfortunately, his diabetes had turned brittle by this time and even small expenditures of effort (let alone the considerable quantities needed for filmmaking) were becoming beyond him. We soon were compelled to bring our Commander Duck TV show to a close and neither one of us contemplated further cinematic projects thereafter.
The Adventures of
Radio Man
A Teleplay
by
GM
1. House on cliff (miniature).
Narrator: From his secret laboratory in this remote manor house, Byron Willoughby wages a one-man war against the forces of evil.
2. Byron's lab, interior. Byron straps on the belt, adjusts some nearby machinery.
3. Roof of house (miniature). Huge antenna rises into the sky.
4. Byron's lab, interior. Byron finishes with machinery. He faces camera, plants his feet firmly on the floor.
Narrator: After many years of grueling and dedicated research, Willoughby has solved the mysteries of broadcast power, developing a process which enables him to become a human dynamo.
5. Close-up as Byron presses belt stud.
6. Close-up as Byron's features are infused with light.
7. Back to medium shot as Byron performs some incredible feat of strength. Fade out...
8. Fade into same lab interior, as Byron finishes slipping into most of his costume. Orville enters with cloak, helps Byron into the garment.
Narrator: Donning a bizarre and colorful costume, Byron Willoughby becomes Radio Man, a secret shared only by his lab assistant, Orville.
8, cont. Orville gets Byron's cloak all goofed up.
Narrator: Filled with determination, and only mildly hampered by his assistant, Radio Man dedicates himself to the pursuit of justice and the eradication of criminal conduct, wherever it may rear its ugly head.
8, cont. Byron finally straightens out his cape and strikes a heroic pose. Orville, peeved at the fracas over the cloak, mimics Byron's pose in the background. Fade out...
9. Titles and credits.
Today's Episode:
RADIO MAN VERSUS
THE MARTIAN DEVILS
10. Fade into a twisted tower of stone in the middle of a bleak landscape (miniature).
Narrator: Our story begins in a sinister, high tower, located on the very outskirts of civilization... This is the place where the Ministry of Hate meets in secret chambers, plotting the overthrow of world order.
11. Inner chamber of tower. The camera prowls about, lingering on each super-criminal as the narrator offers description.
Narrator: Four living nightmares comprise the membership of this ruthless band of criminals. Chrome Dome, a genius in the field of advanced robotics. His features ravaged by a laboratory explosion, he chooses to hide his ruined face behind an elaborate mask of metal. The Purple Buzzard, notorious sky pirate. From the control room of the Vulturon, his flying arsenal of doom, this voracious buccaneer has masterminded some of the most daring piracies of modern times. This is Braino, the disembodied mind. A brilliant but twisted scientist, he had his body surgically separated from his brain. His bizarre objective: to free his intellect to develop at an unheard-of rate, cumulating in the creation of a super-mind. Braino has used this superior intellect to become leader of the Ministry of Hate.
11, cont. Camera trucks back from close-up of brain to medium shot of evil trio.
Narrator: These three are awaiting the coming of Dr. Hornhead, the fourth and final member of this unholy alliance.
Chrome Dome: (pacing to and fro) I'm tired of waiting for this so-called meeting to start. Hornhead has his nerve, keeping us all waiting like this. Me and the Purple Buzzard are very busy men. We can't spend all day cooling our heels in this mausoleum.
Buzzard: (nodding in agreement) Arrr...what be the big idea, Braino?
12. Close-up of the brain. Its "voice" emanates from a small speaker on the right side of the table.
Braino: Compose yourselves, gentlemen. I suggest you cool your heads as well as your heels. We must patiently await the arrival of our colleague from the planet Mars. I believe he is going to favor us with information that will be of great interest to our little circle.
Chrome Dome: Mmph!
We can see by the movement of Chrome Dome's torso in the background that he has resumed pacing.
13. The twisted tower (miniature). A rather battered rocket lands behind the edifice.
14. Inner chamber of tower. Hornhead strides into view. He carries a large, rolled sheet of paper.
Chrome Dome: Well, its about time.
15. Close-up of Hornhead. We see that he has a speaker (identical to Braino's) strapped to his chest.
Hornhead: (gruff, Russian-type voice) Friends of planet Earth, greetings to you. Braino--voice box given to me by you is perfectly working. Is translating Martian thoughts of myself into English words as fast as thinking them I am.
16. Inner chamber, same as 24.
Chrome Dome: Oh, yeah--it's "perfectly working" all right--as long as you don't mind everything you say being butt-backwards!
Buzzard: (doubling up with mirth) Ah-har, ah-har, ah-har... Butt-backwards! Arrr, that's rich! Ah-har, ah-har, ah-har...
17. Close-up of brain.
Braino: That was a rude and tasteless remark, gentlemen. But it has helped me reach a decision. Chrome Dome--by virtue of my position as president of the Anti-Radio Man League--and just to teach you and the Purple Buzzard a long overdue, much needed lesson--I intend to allow Dr. Hornhead first crack at our old enemy, Radio Man.
18. Inner chamber, same as 16.
Chrome Dome: Hey, no fair, Braino!
Buzzard: Arrr--this be a gyp!
19. Close-up of Hornhead.
Hornhead: For your confidence I am thanking you, Braino. Disappointed you will not be. (Holds up scrolled paper) For a devastating master weapon these are the blueprints. From the Science Institute of Mars I...heh, heh..."borrowed" them. A series of catastrophes will be created that the despised Radio Man cannot ignore. Confront me he must. In my trap then will he be enclosed. Crushed, crushed then will Radio Man be--crushed! (Hornhead laughs) Dead, bleeding, crushed! (More laughter.)
20. Laughter continues as camera trucks away from the twisted tower. Sound and image fade…
22a. Close-up of Atwater-Kent radio in Byron's lab, interior.
Announcer's Voice: (breathless) ...neither the Premier of France nor the President of the United States was available for immediate comment. To repeat--at exactly noon today, Pacific Standard time, the Space Needle restaurant, only remaining attraction of Seattle's 1962 World's Fair, and New York harbor's Statue of Liberty, symbol of America's freedom, have both vanished from the face of the Earth. At the same moment, across the ocean in France, the only remaining attraction of the earlier World's Fair, the famed Eiffel Tower, also disappeared.
22b. Medium shot of Atwater-Kent radio. Byron and Orville are revealed on either side of radio, listening to the broadcast. Byron holds a steaming beaker; Orville leans on a broom.
Announcer's Voice: (still breathless) I repeat, as incredible as it may seem, the Statue of Liberty, the Space Needle of Seattle, and the Eiffel Tower have apparently evaporated into thin air. The Statue of Liberty, you will remember, was a gift to the people of the United States from the government of France. Any connection between the disappearance of the statue and the disappearance of France's Eiffel Tower is only a matter of conjecture at this point.
22c. A long shot reveals radio, the boys, and the laboratory around them.
Announcer's Voice: (still breathless) Eyewitnesses to the disasters claim that the monuments seemed to diminish rapidly in size before slipping from sight altogether. To repeat our top story, the governments of two mighty nations are in turmoil following the apparent disappearance of three of the most famous edifices in the world from the face of the planet...
22d. Close-up of radio power switch, as Byron clicks it to "off" position.
22e. Same as 22b.
Orville: Hey, what the heck! The sports report was coming up in a minute.
Byron: Never mind that now. The total eradication of our greatest structures is the problem of paramount importance now. What unholy force could shrink three of... no, not unholy... unearthly!
Orville: Huh?
Byron: Unearthly... not of this earth... extraterrestrial in origin!
Orville: Huh?
Byron: I sense the greenish hand of Dr. Hornhead in this...
22f. Close-up of Orville.
Orville: Oh, yeah. Wasn't he that renegade Martian scientist you busted a few months ago?
Byron: (off-screen voice) Yes, I apprehended him. He was placed in one of our finest maximum security penitentiaries, but with the help of his band of Martian devils he escaped.
Orville: Uh, boss--what makes you so sure Doc-tor Horn-head is behind all this?
22g. Medium two-shot, same as 22b.
Byron: I'll show you. Fetch me that one volume history of Earth's conflicts with Mars--the one with the color plates.
Orville: Okay-dokey-artichokey.
Orville exits, returning moments later with a massive tome.
Byron: (taking book) Thank you, Orville.
Byron rifles through the pages of the history.
22h. Close-up of Byron with book, as he continues to rapidly turn pages. Suddenly, he seems to find what he is searching for, and the page-turning slows down dramatically.
Byron: As you know, Mars has attacked our planet twice. Once in 1938, the so-called War of the Worlds, then again twenty-six years later in 1964.
23-32. Close-up of the color plates contained in the history. Byron's hand turns the pages. The plates are near-facsimiles of some of the milder Martian bubble gum cards of the sixties.
Byron: (off-screen voice) This last was by far the most horrible and devastating of our battles with the Martian invaders. It was only through the use of nuclear bombardment that we were finally victorious. The outcome was so costly to both sides that a peace treaty was struck between our two planets that has remained in effect to this day.
33. Byron's lab, interior. Medium shot, same as 22b. Byron pauses, looks up from book.
Byron: However, once again twenty-six years have passed--and that is just the sort of anniversary that would appeal to a deranged outlaw like Dr. Hornhead--a creature so depraved that he has been disowned by every government on Mars.
Orville: Are you hanging your entire hunch on the fact that twenty-six years have passed since our last war with Mars?
Byron: I should say not. (Byron indicates book) Just roll your eyeballs over this.
34. Close-up of page of book. The camera trucks in on a color illustration.
Byron: (off-screen voice) See? In 1964 the Martians used a shrinking ray as one of the primary weapons of their invasion force. The terms of the treaty forbids the use of this ray ever again, but if Dr. Hornhead has obtained access to this technology, all bets will be off.
35. Lab, medium two-shot, same as 33.
Orville: Wow!
Byron: (flipping pages) That's not all. Take a squint at this.
36. Close-up of another page. Camera trucks in on another illustration.
Byron: (off-screen voice) Observe. This is the incident known as the "Outrage of Paris." The Martians used a gigantic caterpillar to savage the Eiffel Tower. Of course, the damage was later repaired, but a twisted mind like Hornhead's couldn't resist again targeting such a source of French national pride.
37. Lab, medium two-shot, same as 35. Byron slams shut the book. Orville is convinced of Hornhead's culpability in the matter at hand.
Orville: Golly, it certainly looks like it's Doctor Hornhead, all right. What's our next step?
Camera slowly trucks in on Byron's features.
Byron: Warm up the machinery. Radio Man is going to look into this matter--personally.
39. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Hornhead utilizes a yellow handed screwdriver and some other tools to fiddle with some scientific-looking equipment. Abruptly, three of the Martian devils enter and line themselves up in front of their commander.
40. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Tight shot of line-up of Martian devils.
Hornhead: Well, boys, for me what do you got?
41. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Tight shot of line-up of Martian devils.
Hornhead: (off-screen voice) Number One--give to me your... heh, heh... acquisition.
The devil holds out the Seattle Space Needle, now tiny beyond belief. Hornhead's hand enters frame and accepts the prize.
42. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Close-up of a portion of Hornhead's worktable. Hornhead's hand enters frame, deposits Space Needle on table.
Hornhead: (off-screen voice) Number Two?
Hornhead's hand places miniscule Statue of Liberty next to the Space Needle.
Hornhead: (off-screen voice) Number Three?
The Eiffel Tower is plunked down with the others.
43. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Long shot, same as 39.
Hornhead: Excellent, wonderful, perfect!
The chests of the devils swell with pride. While the Doctor gloats over his prizes, the devils break rank long enough to give each other the glad hand.
Hornhead: Wonderful my plan is! An excellent, perfect plan!
Hornhead's attention abruptly turns to his minions.
Hornhead: Oh, adequately you carried out my wonderful plan. Adequately. For that, you will not be punished.
Three chests deflate. The devils are crestfallen.
44. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Close-up of the Doctor.
Hornhead: Lured to his destruction will Radio Man be.
He picks up Eiffel Tower, lifts it into frame, admires its symmetry.
Hornhead: By my new toys, lured to his destruction! Perfect. (Unpleasant laughter) Perfect! (More unpleasant laughter.)
Fade out...
45. House on cliff (miniature). Huge antenna has been raised.
46. Byron's lab, interior. Medium shot as Byron adjusts his lightning bolt gauntlets. He is in full costume, sans cloak. Orville enters with the garment.
Orville: What's your first move?
Byron: I intend to check out Hornhead's old hideout. It's a long shot, but at least it's a chance to pick up his trail.
Orville: Hornhead's hideout... oh, yeah, didn't he have some sort of castle in the desert?
Byron: Right. Years ago, some millionaire had it transported from Europe, a brick at a time. Later on, he abandoned it and, since Hornhead's rocket ship first touched down in the neighborhood, the Doctor just moved in. Now, help me with my cloak.
There is a sufficient amount of clumsy business with the cloak.
Byron: (half-disgusted) Thank you.
Orville: (guileless) Oh, sure thing, boss. You bet!
Byron: All right now. Phase One--to the machine!
47. Byron's lab, interior. Orville advances to electronic wall panel. He dons headset-microphone combination.
48. Byron's lab, interior. Byron is in center stage foreground. Orville can be clearly seen in stage left background.
Byron: (speaking into cuff and holding other hand over the ear portion of his cowl) Testing one, two, three--testing.
Orville: Read you loud and clear, boss.
Byron: Swell. Increase the power output to ten thousand cycles.
Orville adjusts some switches and knobs.
Orville: Check.
Byron: Phase two--open the skylight!
48. Byron's lab, interior. Close shot of Orville as he laboriously pulls on a nearby chain loop.
Orville: Check!
49. Byron's lab, interior. Close-up of Byron's features as he presses belt stud.
50. Byron's lab, interior. Close-up as Byron's features are infused with light.
51. Byron's lab, interior. Close shot of Orville at panel.
Byron: (off-screen voice) Phase Three--lift off!
Orville steels himself.
52. Byron's lab, interior. Long shot, same as 48. Byron lowers his goggles.
Byron: Into the stratosphere!
Byron leaps into air. Immediately cut to...
53. Byron's lab, interior. Close shot of Orville, same as 51. Orville's line-of-sight travels upward. He squints, as a heavy wind buffets his face.
54. Long shot. Radio Man soars into night sky (photographic effect).
55. Close-up of Radio Man. The camera shifts in such a way as to indicate the flying hero is leveling off to a horizontal position.
56. Long shot. Radio Man cruises horizontally (photographic effect).
57. Close-up of Radio Man. He speaks into his cuff.
Byron: (shouting above the rushing air) I've sighted the castle. I'm going down.
Camera tilts to simulate descent.
58. Long shot. Radio Man descends through night sky.
59. Hornhead's stronghold (miniature).
60a. Hornhead stronghold, exterior. Two Martian devils are on duty.
60b. Hornhead's stronghold, exterior. Close-up as Radio Man's boots touch down in extreme foreground.
60c. Hornhead's stronghold, exterior, same as 60a. Radio man quickly dispatches the two devils to dreamland. The camera trucks in on hero as he speaks into his cuff.
Radio Man: Orville! I've hit pay-dirt. I've already encountered two guard devils. That can only mean on thing--the Doctor is in!
There is a loud crackle. Radio Man's hand goes to the ear portion of his cowl.
Orville: (off-screen, electronic sounding voice) Be careful, boss. It could be a trap!
Radio Man: It doesn't matter. I'm in too deep now. I've no choice but to see things through.
61. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. One of Hornhead's devils stands with the Doctor. An energy pack is strapped to the servant's back. The devil holds an elaborate-looking ray gun in his hands. The gun is connected to the pack by a short, plastic tube. The Doctor fusses with pack, then with the ray gun. For this fussing, he employs a yellow-handled screwdriver, a hammer, pliers, etc.
Hornhead: Primitive are these earth tools. But it is of no matter. Adequate they are to my purpose. With a few adjustments, a more powerful weapon this will become. Increase its range, I will. Soon, no safe place will there by on this planet. Then, will my reign of terror truly begin!
Radio Man: (off-screen voice) You're going to get it now, greenie!
A portion of Radio Man becomes visible at left side of frame. His fist clenches and unclenches in anticipation. Hornhead drops tray of tools but quickly regains his composure.
Hornhead: Ah, Radio Man. (slight pause) Gorno--the weapon--shoot him!
Gorno raises shrinking gun and fires.
62. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Close-up of Radio Man. The hero rapidly diminishes down to doll size.
63. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Low angle down on Hornhead. He reaches down, his hand covering lens of camera...
64. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. High angle down no Radio Man. he looks around frantically, grabs up huge pipe wrench, discards it, seizes no-gigantic screwdriver. As the shadow of Hornhead's monstrous hand engulfs him, Radio Man thrusts the screwdriver upward.
Radio Man: (high-pitched voice) Oh no, you don't!
Radio Man releases handle of screwdriver. The screwdriver is pulled up and out of camera frame.
65. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Low angle up on Hornhead and Gorno. Gorno has just finished putting aside ray gun and pack. Hornhead brings his hand up into frame. The screwdriver protrudes from his palm. The mad Martian plucks the tool from his flesh.
Hornhead: (to Radio Man) Treacherous mouse! (to Gorno) Try to capture him, do not. Stomp on him! Crush him!
Gorno begins stamping his feet.
66. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Now we are back down on the floor with Radio Man.
Radio Man: (high-pitched voice) Uh-oh!
Radio Man is shaken by Gorno's thunderous footfalls. The hero snatches up the gargantuan pliers, discards them, obtains Brobdignagian hammer, whacks something off-screen with it.
67. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Up angle on Gorno and Hornhead. Gorno holds his right foot and hops up and down in pain. Hornhead is wrapping a cloth about his injured hand.
68. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Down on the floor with Radio Man. Once again, the tiny hero strikes something off-screen with the huge hammer.
69a. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Up angle on Gorno and Hornhead. Gorno switches to hopping on newly-injured left foot. He crashes into Hornhead. Irritated, Hornhead pushes his servant out of frame (to right). Hornhead fetches a small basket. The basket is draped with a colorful cloth.
Hornhead: To handle this situation, yes, my Venusian hunting spider will suffice. Awaken, Astro! Return from sleep, you must!
69b. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Down on the floor with Radio Man. Radio Man discards the hammer. He regains the big pair of pliers. He lowers them off-screen, pumps them twice, then raises the tool into the frame. He brandishes the tool in a defensive manner.
69c. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Same as 69a. Doctor Hornhead lowers the basket below bottom of frame. Hornhead plucks cloth up into frame, drops cloth below frame again.
69d. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Down angle of floor. Spider mewls, jumps up and out of frame. A choking sound is heard.
69e. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Approximately the same shot as 69a. Gorno staggers in, still choking, spider attached to his throat. Gorno moans and collapses.
Hornhead: Astro, no! Bad spider! Bad spider!
70. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Down on the floor with Radio Man. Radio Man drops pliers. He contacts Orville on his wrist radio.
Radio Man: (high-pitched voice) Orville! Come in, Orville!
Orville: (off-screen, electronic-sounding voice) Boss! What happened to your voice?
Radio Man: (high-pitched voice) No time to explain now. Increase the power output to twenty thousand cycles.
Orville: (off-screen voice) That's too high! It could kill you!
Radio Man: (high-pitched voice) I know! It's a long shot, but the sudden surge of power might undo the effects of Hornhead's ray.
Orville: (off-screen voice) But, boss...
Radio Man: (high-pitched voice) Just do it, Orville!
71. Byron's lab, interior. Orville shakes his head, throws switch, turns up dial. A red light begins to flash over scene. A klaxon horn begins to blast.
72a. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Hornhead has just finished tucking Venusian hunting spider back into basket.
Hornhead: Bad Astro! For you there will be no television for a week!
The Doctor sets down the basket.
Hornhead: Now--settle with Radio Man, I will.
The Doctor plucks up the shrinking ray gun, still attached to hose.
Hornhead: Shrink him into nothingness, I will.
Full-sized Radio Man abruptly enters frame and hoists Hornhead aloft with one hand. He effortlessly disarms the Martian.
Radio Man: (now with normal voice) Not so fast, chum.
72b. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Cutaway shot of the two guard devils from outside as they rush in to assist their master.
72c. Hornhead's stronghold, interior. Same shot as 72a. Radio Man turns his gaze toward the interlopers.
Radio Man: Just relax, devil boys. Don't make any false moves, or I'll do the Martian Stomp with Big Daddy here. (to Hornhead) We've got a nice warm cell waiting for all of you. Shall we go?
Radio Man lowers Hornhead to the floor. The Doctor frantically scoops up the spider's basket. Radio Man gives him a light but firm shove, then follows him out of frame.
Fade out...
73. Fade into Hornhead seen through bars of jail cell. Gorno paces in background. At least one other devil boy can be seen in extreme background, playing harmonica. Its music wafts over the scene.
Hornhead: Temporarily thwarted this time, yes, but defeated I am not. Like a phoenix from the ashes, will I rise again and triumph over puny earthlings, indeed, yes.
Gorno pauses and blows a raspberry at the Doctor. Hornhead whips around toward sound and Gorno quickly ducks out of frame. The remaining devil boy ceases his harmonica and shrugs to indicate his innocence.
74. Byron's manor house, exterior. It is day.
75. Byron's lab, interior. Low angle shot, as Byron and Orville loom over table top on which reside the three shrunken structures.
Byron: I'm going to place a call to the President, Orville. Once we get our finest scientific minds to work on this problem, we'll have these monuments full-sized and back to their proper places in no time, no time at all.
76. Byron's lab, interior. Medium shot, as Byron and Orville straighten to standing positions behind table. Byron exits frame. Orville begins whistling. He carefully looks to the left, and then to the right. As he performs this reconnaissance work, the camera pulls back slightly. Satisfied that he is unobserved, Orville plucks up the Statue of Liberty and puts it in his pocket. He exits frame, still whistling.
Fade out...
77. Fade into close-up of Chrome Dome. Neutral background. Very ceremoniously, the villain reaches up and begins to unfasten the straps holding his face-plate in place.
Narrator: Coming soon...Radio Man versus Chrome Dome!
Chrome Dome slowly removes his face-plate. Just as the mask is about to clear his features, we fade out...
78. End titles and credits.
Next: "Andrea", "Cloak of Dracula", "Medium, Well Done".
GM was adept at writing concise, short-story structured screenplays as well as the epic sort. The examples presented below are of extremely early vintage, predating even his Dr. Malvado. "Cloak of Dracula" may, in fact, have led to his first finished film (it's the earliest of his movies I can remember having been shown). The other two never saw any production work, which is a shame… "Medium, Well-Done" would have been a hoot!
ANDREA
a screenplay by GM
SCENE ONE
Three men pursue caped man. They corner him, and one of the pursuers produces a crucifix. In eerie silence, another pursuer raises a bow into which he fits an arrow. He sends it winging into the caped man's heart. The man clutches his chest, and blood flows over his fingers. He dies an agonizing death. The remaining member of the trio sets a torch to the body. Their faces are illuminated by the bright flames.
SCENE TWO
The three men enter a room where a tall, cloaked figure waits.
Edgar: The deed is done, Miss... your brother is dead.
The girl begins to weep.
Thomas: Please don't cry, Miss Andrea. He really wasn't your brother anymore. He was an... animal.
Abraham: A creature of the undead.
Andrea: I know (sob)... and yet, Siegfried and I were so very close.
Edgar: We did what we had to.
Andrea: (regaining composure) Of course. Would you gentlemen like a drink?
Abraham: I could certainly use one.
Others nod.
Andrea: If you'll follow me into the study...
Thomas and Abraham follow. Edgar pauses to remove his archery gear. He hears cries from the study.
Thomas: Oh my God!
Abraham: Edgar! Help me!
Edgar seizes arrow and bow and rushes into room. He enters to find his pals dead, puncture wounds on their necks. He looks about wildly, and sees a bat just seconds before it clamps on his throat. He falls. The bat leaves his neck. In the next shot we see Andrea, her cloak spread. She slowly lets the cape down. Edgar regards her with dying eyes. She smiles at him, and we see her fangs have been retracted.
Andrea: Siegfried and I were so very close.
Edgar succumbs---Andrea laughs, dons hood, and exits.
THE END
* * *
CLOAK OF DRACULA
by GM
Narration
After a close brush with the authorities, Count Dracula fled to the Carpathian village of Ingolstadt. Posing as Doctor Vurdolak, a specialist in rare diseases, the evil Count had the perfect disguise to hide behind while he continued to conduct his nefarious activities.
It was on behalf of my friend Lawrence Talbot that I, Craig Taylor, visited Doctor Vurdolak in his gardens. I noticed a peculiar coldness about his hand as I shook it. Vurdulak recognized Larry Talbot's name from the newspapers, where he had read of Talbot's werewolfism. I then introduced Vurdulak to Miss Marilyn Garver, my fiancee. He stared at her hungrily.
Talbot asked Vurdulak if he would treat his lycanthropy. The doctor agreed.
A bit later the doctor proposed a toast to the success of the treatment. Little did we know the chablis was drugged. Talbot was the first to go. Marilyn succumbed next. A moment later, I followed.
The fiend from hell wasted no time. His thirst was great, and his razor-sharp fangs soon found their mark.
The drug shocked Talbot's system so greatly that the dreaded transformation was triggered. As Count Dracula prepared to flee, the Wolf Man leapt upon him.
In the meantime I revived, drew my gun, and rushed to the scene of the struggle.
Dracula's inhuman strength was more than a match for the werewolf's ferocity. He quickly gained the upper hand.
In death, Talbot found the peace he had never known in life.
I confronted the vampire. I fired point-blank, but he only laughed. Then I remembered the silver crucifix that I always carried for protection whenever I travelled with Talbot. I placed the cross on his chest, paralyzing him.
I returned from the house, where I had located a letter opener and a gavel. I hammered the blade into his evil heart. As I watched in horror, the flesh melted from his bones.
With Dracula's destruction, Marilyn regained her full strength. Together we quit the tableau of death and sorrow.
* * *
Medium, Well-Done
a screenplay by GM
Sign:
Kosmo
the Mystic
Occult Services Performed
Fade thru sign and door to interior of shop and into back room.
Two men, one in oriental garb and one in a dark cloak, face each other.
KOSMO: I'm good and tired of your drinking, Bruno. One of these days you're going to foul up good.
BRUNO: Aw, shuddup!
KOSMO: Listen here! Tonight is our big chance. Mrs. Carstairs is paying us a visit.
BRUNO: Is she that rich broad?
KOSMO: Yes, and influential, too. If we convince her, our reputation is made. All you have to do is put in an appearance at the proper time and say a few words, understand? (Bruno nods.) All right, here's a flashlight. Now go get into your make-up.
Kosmo enters main parlor. Knock at door. He answers.
KOSMO: Enter, Mrs. Carstairs.
MRS. CARSTAIRS: Hello, Kosmo.
KOSMO: Won't you have a seat?
Shot of Bruno. He is dabbing on make-up... and drinking heavily.
Kosmo dims lights and sits across table from Carstairs.
Bruno slumps forward on table.
KOSMO: Denizens of the spirit world, hear my plea! A good woman seeks one of your number. Send ye forth the spirit of Dr. Robert Carstairs!
The candles go out. Carstairs screams... spirit appears in darkness.
SPIRIT: I am the spirit of Dr. Robert Carstairs.
CARSTAIRS: Bob! Bob! This is Olivia.
SPIRIT: Dear Olivia. How are you, my darling?
CARSTAIRS: Well. (hesitates) Bob, I've decided to re-marry.
SPIRIT: Do you love him, Olivia?
OLIVIA: Yes.
SPIRIT: Then you have my permission and my blessing.
OLIVIA: Oh, Bob, I--
SPIRIT: Farewell, Olivia...
OLIVIA: Bob--!
Spirit vanishes and candles reflame. Kosmo and Olivia rise.
OLIVIA: Thank you, Kosmo.
KOSMO: I am happy to serve. (bows)
OLIVIA: Will a thousand be enough?
Reaches in purse. Kosmo almost faints.
KOSMO: You--you are most generous.
OLIVIA: Nonsense. I intend to see to it that you get the recognition you deserve.
Kosmo bows again and lets her out. He rushes to back room.
KOSMO: Bruno, you were magnifi--
BRUNO: Just stall her a few more minutes, boss. I'm almost ready.
Two more GM shorties. The eponymous Doctor Vurdolak may have been intended as a serial character, similar to my Argus the Sorcerer. There is, in any event, one sequel screenplay, which I'll present later. Three accompanying illustrations can be found at the bottom of the page. "You Bet Your Ass" is a take-off on "You Bet Your Life", the 50's era radio/TV quiz program. When I first met GM, he was highly hipped on Groucho Marx, the show's host, being able to assume the screen legend's greasepaint eyebrows and mustache to excellent effect and mimic his famous mannerisms to a tee. He did the impersonation only once on film (the upcoming "Making of the Viva") but had several similarly-themed scripts prepared. "You Bet Your Ass" is the shortest of these and a solid introduction.
DOCTOR VURDOLAK
An original screenplay
by GM
Shot of setting sun. Cut to shot of old house with a sinister look to it. Cut to scene of coffin opening. CU as a hand appears in the narrow aperture between the lid and the box. The lid is raised. The camera moves to the foot of the coffin as the vampire sits up and moves to get out. Return to original camera position as the vampire closes the lid. The vampire makes his way thru gloomy corridors. The scenes of him walking are interspliced with the credits for the film. The vampire enters the main room. His servant, Enoch, awaits him.
ENOCH: Are you going out tonight, master?
VURDOLAK: Yes, Enoch. I grow weak. I must feed.
Enoch hands the vampire his walking stick and hat. Vurdolak turns and walks thru the wall like a phantom.
Vurdolak walks thru the night. He takes notice of a well-lit picture window. He stands beside the window, gazing at a young woman who is seated in an easy chair, reading. He concentrates and vanishes. Cut to inside of house. The vampire suddenly appears behind the girl, his fangs bared. Without warning, her fiancé enters. Vurdolak swiftly vanishes.
The girl puts down her book as the young man approaches.
HELEN: I'm terribly thirsty. How about a martini?
HENRY: Coming right up, darling.
Exit Henry. Vurdolak rematerializes in front of the girl.
VURDOLAK: Look into my eyes. You cannot resist me.
The girl falls into a hypnotic trance. Vurdolak bends over the girl.
VURDOLAK: My thirst, too, is terrible.
He sinks his fangs into her throat.
Henry enters with two drinks. He gasps as drops the drinks. Cut to Helen. The vampire is gone. Blood streams from the two tiny holes left in Helen's neck.
Cut to Vurdolak as he returns to his coffin.
We return to Helen and Henry. It is daytime, and Helen's throat has been bandaged. They have been joined by a third figure.
HENRY: This is Charlotta Van Helsing, Helen. She's gong to help us.
Helen nods and smiles, as does Charlotta.
CHARLOTTA: I am a descendent of Professor Van Helsing--the man who destroyed Count Dracula.
The three sit in a tight circle around a table.
CHARLOTTA: We will set a trap for the vampire.
Shot of setting sun, then old house. Vurdolak rises from his coffin and ascends to the main room as before. He is met there by Enoch.
VURDOLAK: For the first time in 200 years, I have found a woman worthy to be my bride.
Enoch smiles and looks excited.
VURDOLAK: I will bring her here tonight for the ceremony that will bind her to me for eternity.
The vampire exits through the wall.
Back at the ranch, Henry and Charlotta wait out of sight as Helen acts as bait for the vampire, staring nervously at her book. Henry has a stake, and Charlotta has a crucifix. Vurdolak appears. He stares hypnotically at Helen. She drops her book and tears loose her bandages as she falls under his spell. She gets to her feet as Vurdolak advances on her.
CHARLOTTA: Why, that's Doctor Vurdolak. I never suspected that he was a vampire.
HENRY: We must strike now!
Henry and Charlotta spring for the vampire. Vurdolak sees them and flourishes his cape about Helen and himself. They vanish.
HENRY: Oh my God!
CHARLOTTA: We must hurry. I know where Vurdolak lives.
They exit in haste.
Vurdolak enters the main room, is met by Enoch. A thick carpet of mist (use dry ice) covers the floor. Seven burning candles surround a covered altar.
ENOCH: All is in readiness, Master.
Vurdolak places the girl on the altar. Cut to Charlotta and Henry as they break into Vurdolak's house. Henry upsets a chair. Vurdolak and Enoch hear the noise. Vurdolak goes to a crystal ball which is kept in a corner of the room. As he rubs his hand over the ball, camera zooms into the center of it. Dissolve to colored lights. Dissolve to CU of the intruders. Dissolve to colored lights. Zoom out from crystal to original shot.
VURDOLAK: We have intruders, Enoch.
Enoch secures a large club and hefts it questioningly. The vampire nods his approval. Enoch exits. The intruders are proceeding cautiously through the house. Enoch attacks from the rear and clubs Henry. Charlotta whirls around to face him. He backs her up to the wall. She quite unexpectedly whips out a knife, lunges quickly, and spears him. Enoch's eyes bulge as he falls dead. Charlotta revives Henry.
Vurdolak bends low over the girl, who is still in a trance.
VURDOLAK: I bring to you the darkness of centuries past and centuries to come.
Vurdolak bares fangs as he swoops for the kill. Just then, the intruders break in. Charlotta brandishes the cross. Vurdolak falls back against the altar, helpless.
CHARLOTTA: Now, Henry, while he's powerless.
Henry forcefully plunges the stake into Vurdolak's heart. Vurdolak clutches at his chest. He leans forward and ejects a mouthful of blood squarely at the camera. He falls to the floor.
Charlotta and Henry look on in astonishment as a red mist mingles with the white at the spot where the vampire fell. Charlotta goes to Helen's side. Henry follows. Helen comes out of the trance.
CHARLOTTA: Helen's will is once more her own.
The lovers embrace happily. Charlotta reaches down where the vampire fell and finds only an empty suit of clothes.
CHARLOTTA: So ends an evil that should have perished countless generations before any of us were born.
THE END
* * *
YOU BET YOUR ASS
Fade in title.
Announcer: That's right, folks. It's time once again for America's favorite quiz show, "You Bet Your Ass." And here he is, America's favorite quizmaster... the one... the only... Groucho!
Captain Spaulding theme as fade to Groucho loping up to his position behind the podium.
Groucho: I'd feel flattered by all that applause, but I know that it's drafty in here and you're only doing it to keep your hands warm. Before we meet our first contestants, I'd like to clue our audience at home in about the secret word for tonight. Could I see the word, and our deaf engineer gives me the bird. Anyway, the secret word is "fellatio". I could say the word better, but I have a deep throat infection.
Announcer: Here's our first contestants... Mrs. Lavinia Bandersnatch of Duluth, Minnesota, and Mr. Elmer Clapsaddle of Pismo Beach, California.
Groucho: Pismo Beach? You must be a clam.
Elmer: No, I--
Groucho: Come, come, you can't deny it. A Pismo Beach clam, heh? Senator McCarthy shall hear of this!
Elmer: Say, can't a fellow show what he knows around here?
Groucho: Fellow show? (enter duck) You said the secret word. See this hundred dollar bill?
Elmer: Yes.
Groucho: Well, come around later and I'll let you have another look at it. Now Mrs. Bandersnatch... do you mind if I call you Lavinia? (she nods no) Good. Now Mrs. Bandersnatch, why don't you tell us something about yourself?
Lav: Well, I was born in Duluth. Shortly after my birth--
Groucho: Come, come my good woman. Let's not bring the Civil War into this. Remember the immortal words of Thomas Jefferson, who said "All men are born free and easy." Remember Abraham Lincoln, who said "All woman are born good, but experience makes them better." And remember, there's nothing like Liberty, unless it's Colliers or the Saturday Evening Post. Be free, my friends. One for all and all for me... me for you and three for five and six for a quarter! "America, America, Dick spreads his tricks on thee!" Let's have some action around here. Who'll say seventy-six? Who'll say seventeen seventy-six? That's the spirit, 1776. Madam, you're making history. In fact, you're making me, and I wish you'd keep my hands to yourself.
Lav: I've never been so insulted in my life!
Groucho: Well, it's early yet. By the way, I'm hawking these insurance policies on the side. Would you like to take one out? It'll take care of your children in your old age, which should be here any minute if I'm any judge of horseflesh.
Elmer: I wouldn't buy a policy. Why, you look as healthy as any woman I've ever met.
Groucho: You don't look as though you ever met a healthy woman. Don't forget, Clapsaddle, you're lucky to be here. We've had a lot of celebrities on this program. Why, on that very spot where you're standing, two years ago, Zsa Zsa Gabor became a virgin for the fourth time. And now for the first question. But first, these commercial announcements.
… The Viva being our local community-college newspaper. GM had held a position there as movie critic; he'd also enrolled in the college's cinematography course and made this documentary (yes, finally… a screenplay that resulted in a completed film) as a joint project. It plays very well indeed… the expository passages are informative and clearly laid out, while the light-hearted approach keeps the material from becoming too dry to enjoy. The script, being real-world based, had been filled with the newspaper staff's actual names, and in all cases I've substituted initials so as not to compromise their privacy. The only exception is the photographer's spot, which GM purposely left blank. Evidently no one had been assigned at the time he wrote the text.
The Marx Brothers dialogue didn't feature much in the way of original writing; most of the bits were lifted from the team's professional films. GM, of course, portrayed Groucho. The three other actors (the ones playing Chico, Harpo and the Margaret Dumont character) were members of his stock troupe and had or would have roles in "Dr. Malvado's Chamber of Evil", "Ape on the Loose", "Journal of the Fly", etc.. "The Viva's" comedy vignettes were far from amateurish or labored; each performer had become quite adept at imitating his particular Marx. I'm entirely confident that other unrealized films in this same vein ("The Big Party", "A Servant of Two Mistresses" and "Cracked Ice", all of which will be presented later) would have been just as entertaining.
The Making of the Viva
a screenplay by GM
(We first see Groucho in corner of room, shaving. He notices camera, finishes, and rushes to podium. He lights cigar, and throws cigarette lighter away.)
Groucho: My name is Professor Quincy Adams Wagstaff, and I'm your host of the next half-hour of pornographic insanity. This is a film by GM. That ought to clear the joint. GM originally intended to get Jacques Costeau to narrate this turkey, but at the last minute he scraped together some extra money to hire me and he gave Costeau the bird.
Well, I thought my razor was dull until I saw this movie, and that reminds me of a joke so dirty I'm ashamed to think of it myself. Anyway, off with the lights, on with the show, and every man for himself.
This is Solano College, home of the Viva. And this is the Journalism Department, located in the Student Center. This rather dubious personage is DS, noted bon vivant and head of the department. Let's watch as these fertile minds compose the Viva.
Next, we're going to watch as _______ goes on a photo assignment for the Viva. His task is to photograph the Drama Department's latest production, "School for Scandal". The play takes place in 17th Century England, so the costumes are especially photogenic. Many pictures will be taken, from which only a few will be selected for publication with an accompanying article about the play.
Marx Scene.
Groucho: Hiya, Toots! How about you and I passing out on the veranda, or would you rather pass out here?
Woman: Sir, you have the advantage of me!
Groucho: Not yet I haven't, but wait till I get you outside.
(Tango music commences)
Groucho: En guarde!
(Dance finishes)
Groucho: I could dance with you till the cows come home. (pause) On second thought I'd rather dance with the cows till you come home.
(Harpo enters and starts examining her all over with a magnifying glass.)
Groucho: The door swung open and a fig newton entered.
Woman: Oh!
Groucho: If you're looking for my fingerprints, you're a little early.
(Familiar trio at table. Groucho shuffles cards, pushes them in Harpo's direction.)
Groucho: Cut the cards.
(Harpo produces cleaver and hacks them apart.)
Chico: (laughing) Ot'sa good one, Pinky. He cut-a the cards good, he Boss?
Groucho: Baravelli, you have the brain of a four-year-old child, and I bet he was glad to get rid of it. (turns to Harpo) And as for you, I'd horsewhip you if I only had a horse.
(Harpo produces a toy horse from his coat.)
Groucho: They're off and running!
Chico: Hey! Im-a no jackass!
Groucho: Well, you're certainly no jack!
(Harpo chases girl across scene twice; is stopped by Groucho.)
Groucho: Listen, my boy, this behavior has to stop. Don't you have a girl back home?
(Harpo produces arm tatoo.)
Groucho: Say, that's all right. You wouldn't happen to have her number, would you?
(Harpo rolls sleeve up further to show number.)
Groucho: (writing it down) Thanks. You must have everything but the kitchen sink.
(Harpo bares chest, which has a sink on it.)
Groucho: Oh, that's fine, that's fine. You wouldn't happen to have a picture of my grandfather, would you?
(Harpo tugs at his trousers.)
Groucho: (restraining him) That's my grandfather, all right.
Viva Scene.
Groucho: Make-up is on Monday nights (and sometimes on Tuesday mornings as well). Make-up is the process of deciding which article will go where, and it is as lengthy as it is exhausting. MH and SN personally test the quality of the glue used. Any resemblance between these two and living persons is coincidental. Don't call us, D, we'll call you.
Our next stop is Wheeler Printing, where the Viva is printed by a cold type process known as photo offset. An IBM computer sets the type. BB sets the copy codes onto IBM magnetic tape. She then snaps tape into the computer's brain. The brain reads the code and transfers it to paper at a rate of 185 a minute. Because photo offset shows no shades of gray, photos will be added later. Miss B then takes the result to her desk where she does the layout. Hot wax is used to hold the individual sections in place.
The completed layout is then photographed. In the darkroom, LW dunks the film in developer first, then water again.
In the Stripping Department, the photos are added. The trick is cutting through the masking sheet and not the film. The photos are held in place with scotch tape. The negative is then transferred to a photo-sensitized aluminum sheet. This sheet behaves somewhat like film. Light hardens the pattern on the plate afterward. The non-hardened parts are removed with a fluid. The hardened pattern is preserved with still another fluid.
PJ then installs the plates in the press. The sheets are lined up so the margins are equal. The ink is added to the rollers. This machine will print 8,000 sheets an hour. 2,500 copies of the Viva will be printed.
AP then places the sheets in the Folding Machine. This machine will fold 100 copies or better a minute. The center page of the paper has been printed twice on a single sheet. This machine is capable of cutting a 4 x 4 in two in a single slice. The center page is then inserted by hand. P is assisted by DH in this process, which is known as collation. The Viva is then boxed for delivery to Solano College.
Upon arrival at the college, the paper is distributed to any of several Viva stands at various campus locations.
Marx Scene.
Groucho: (to woman) Did your husband tell you you had beautiful eyes?
Woman: Why, yes.
Groucho: He told me that too. He tells that to everyone he meets. Oh, your eyes, your eyes... they shine like the pants of a blue serge suit.
Woman: What? The very idea! That's an insult!
Groucho: That's not a reflection on you... it's on the pants. Oh, I love sitting on your lap. I could sit here all day long if you didn't stand up.
Woman: No, don't. If my husband caught me here, he'd wallop me.
Groucho: Always thinking of your husband. Couldn't I wallop you just as well? Besides, I've known and respected your husband for years, and what's good enough for him is good enough for me.
Chico: And what's good enough for the boss is good enough for us too, eh Pinky?
(Harpo nods fervently. They run over and pile on, knocking Groucho on his can.)
Patterned after the Marx's second feature release, "Animal Crackers", this GM film script might have worked equally well on stage; the single setting and brisk pacing would have made for an engaging, simple to produce live show. By the way, "Be Prepared" (coming up in part 4) is the same tune one might recognize from the discography of popular comedian/musician Tom Lehrer. I have no idea how GM planned to realize an original performance (dubbing dialogue was nightmare enough); he didn't really have dancing skills or a strong singing voice. Then again, neither did Groucho…
THE BIG PARTY
A screenplay by
GM
Dramatis Personae
CAPTAIN HORATIO K. CLAPSADDLE, an out-and-out fraud
HONKY, a party-crasher who's the executive type
TONY, a good reason for restricting immigration
MRS. OPHELIA PENROSE, a society dame
THE DUKE OF EARL, a crook if ever I saw one
THE DUCHESS OF EARL, the duke's partner in crime
JONATHAN, the butler who didn't do it
DETECTIVE BROWN, a flatfoot who wears inner soles
DIANNE, a trip down mammary lane
SPUMONI, a four-footed heel from the Boot
PLUS ASSORTED GUESTS AND OTHER ODDITIES
As the movie opens up, the party is in full swing. Jonathan announces an arrival.
JON: The Duke and Duchess of Earl.
The Duke and Duchess enter while the other guests applaud. In the background the national anthem of Earl can be faintly detected. The royal duo is greeted by Mrs. Penrose.
PEN: My dear Duke and Duchess! I'm so happy you could come.
DUKE: (kissing her hand) No one in his right mind would miss one of your parties, Mrs. Penrose.
DUC: Could you tell us a little about the guest speaker you've invited for tonight?
PEN: Well, he's just about the bravest man I've ever met. Captain Clapsaddle has explored every corner of the globe. I just know he'll have some fascinating stories to tell us.
DUKE: If the good Captain is a friend of yours, then we know he'll be interesting.
PEN: Oh, your excellency!
DUC: Isn't that the Vanderbilts over there?
PEN: Oh my, so it is. I must greet them. Will you excuse me?
Mrs. Penrose exits. The Duke and Duchess rapidly drop their pose.
DUKE: Now listen carefully, Gert. I've got a plan.
DUC: Boy, did she ever fall for our royalty act!
DUKE: Shut up and pay attention. While everyone is listening to this Clapsaddle character give his speech, I'll snatch the statuette. There it is, over there on that table.
Shot of the statue.
DUKE: It's one of the rarest figures in the world.
DUC: How much do you think it's worth?
DUKE: As an antique, the statuette is priceless. I know a private art collector who would give his right arm for it. I'll be able to demand any amount I want. Now, let's mingle with the other guests.
Honky and Tony poke their heads into the room.
TONY: Hey, look at that. Look at all that food. Didn't I tell you it would be a swell party?
Honky nods and starts into the crowd.
TONY: Hey, just a minute. Where's the pooch?
Honky pulls out a pouch.
TONY: Not the pouch, the pooch.
Honky runs off-stage and returns with a bowl of punch.
TONY: Not the punch, the pooch, the pooch! You know--Spumoni.
Honky produces an ice cream cone and licks it. Tony takes it away from him and licks it, too.
TONY: Ah, you're crazy! That's tutsi-frutsi. Where's my dog, Spumoni?
At last Honky understands. He pulls the dog from his pocket. Like Tony, the pup is attired in pointed hat and garish bow-tie.
TONY: (taking the canine) That's fine. Hey, where's his food?
Honky looks innocent.
TONY: (snapping his fingers) Come on, come on.
Honky produces a full bowl of dog food.
TONY: All of it.
Honky also produces a bone. Tony places both before the dog.
TONY: Ah, that's fine. Come on, we'll lose ourselves among the guests. And remember, act inconspicuous.
They go to a table on which there is a plate of donuts. They proceed down an entire row of seated people, dunking their donuts in each coffee cup they come to.
Honky encounters Dianne. He stands looking at her, his mouth agape.
DIANNE: (to Tony) What's wrong with your friend here?
TONY: That's no friend; that's my brother. Don't mind him, lady. He's psychoceramic.
DIANNE: Don't you mean psychosomatic?
TONY: Naw, psychoceramic. He's a crackpot.
Exit Dianne in disgust.
TONY: Hey, that's a nice girl, eh?
Honky whistles his approval and agreement, draws the curse sign in the air, reaches into his coat, produces two cantaloupes, and holds them in front of his chest.
TONY: Aw, that's your problem--all the time you're thinking about food.
Jonathan makes a second announcement.
JON: The honorable Captain Horatio K. Clapsaddle.
There is a moment of heavy silence. Then, a Tarzan yell issues from the rafters. Clapsaddle swings in on a vine, anchoring himself by grabbing Mrs. Penrose by the waist.
PEN: I've never been so humiliated in my entire life!
CAP: Then you're certainly not the woman I thought you were.
PEN: Well, I never--
CAP: Now I know you're not the woman I thought you were.
PEN: I--
CAP: On the other hand, I'm not the man I used to be. I used to be Teddy Roosevelt. If she figures that out, she's good.
(Throughout the foregoing speech, Harpo has been staring blankly at the Captain.)
CAP: He plays a key role in this picture. That'll give you an idea of the picture.
PEN: Captain Clapsaddle--if you don't stop this outrageous demonstration, I shall have you thrown out!
CAP: "Thrown out"? You mean--"Put out"? "Cast aside"? Like an old shoe? Like a dirty rag? Who needs a used car? Who want's yesterday's papers?
PEN: I--I didn't intend to--
CAP: Oh, well, in that case would you like to buy a copy of yesterday's San Francisco Chronicle? It's the same as today's--hardly been used by a lady about your age who couldn't read. As a matter of fact, I thought you looked familiar.
PEN: That's quite enough.
CAP: No, I haven't said enough. Can't you see what I'm trying to tell you? I love you. There. I didn't want to say it, but you dragged it out of me.
PEN: Captain--please! The guests!
CAP: What? Please the guests? Me? With my stamina? I only asked if I could please you--and you me--listen to my pleas--you know.
PEN: Oh, Horatio!
CAP: It's the same old story--a man and a woman--Romeo and Juliet--Abbott and Costello.
The Duchess walks by.
PEN: Horatio, I--
CAP: I'll attend to you later.
He lopes off, but is distracted when he comes across Honky.
CAP: Oh, it's you again. Say you look like a bright lad. (Honky nods.) Here's a little trick I learned in the Orient. Take a card.
Honky takes the card, tears it up, and eats it.
CAP: No, you don't understand. You take a card and then you...
Honky repeats the procedure.
CAP: Oh, here, have another one.
Enter Tony.
TONY: Hey, whatsamatter with you? You want to make him sick?
Tony produces a bottle of catsup and gives it to Honky, who now puts it on the cards before he consumes them.
TONY: There. That's better, eh Honky?
CAP: You boys must be in real estate. You're certainly a vacant lot.
TONY: Hey, Honky. Let's go over to the buffet table.
PEN: Jonathan--who are those two dreadful men?
JON: I don't know, madam. They must have sneaked in while my back was turned. Do you want me to have them removed?
PEN: No. We must avoid a scene. Let me talk to them.
Honky and Tony are ready to dive into the food.
PEN: Just a minute. Just a minute. Aren't you two going to wash your hands?
Honky gleefully washes his hands in the punchbowl.
PEN: (exiting) Oh!
TONY: Hey, don't you got no couth? Roll up your sleeves first.
Tony rolls up his sleeves and joins Honky. Honky grabs Tony's hat and starts washing it with the aid of a washboard he has pulled out of his coat.
TONY: Hey, you're crazy! You want to make me punchy in the head?
Groucho lopes in with a bar of soap and begins to wash, too.
CAP: You boys enjoying the party?
Honky grabs the bar of soap and eats it.
CAP: No wonder he's so bubbleheaded!
The Duke enters as the brothers leave and pours some of the punch into a cup. He almost drinks it before he sees it is full of suds and does a double-take.
Mrs. Penrose stands talking to her guests. A dramatic chord sounds. Harpo appears, more or less attired as Napoleon Bonaparte. He and Mrs. Penrose perform a minuet. Exit Mrs. Penrose; enter Tony.
TONY: Oh, you get mad, eh? That's fine. Come on, you, put them up.
Tony assumes fighting stance, as does Honky. Honky hooks his leg around and kicks his brother in the pants.
TONY: No downstairs! (pointing to own chin) Upstairs! Upstairs!
Honky kicks him in the pants again.
TONY: Hey, who teach you to fight dirty like that?
Honky points to Tony himself.
TONY: Hey, that's right. (laughing and embracing his brother) You're some dirty fighter. You fight almost as dirty as me.
Honky pooh-poohs the idea.
The Duchess is talking to a group of guests. A couch is in the background. Groucho enters.
CAP: Ah, Duchess! I didn't recognize you standing up. Won't you lie down?
They sit.
CAP: Ah, do you remember those nights on the Riviera? We were young, gay, reckless! I drank champagne from your slipper, and you ate caviar out of my helmet. Do you remember the party where we met? We didn't get home until four in the morning. I was blind for three days. Hurry--we must steal away together tonight.
DUC: My goodness!
CAP: Your goodness has nothing to do with it.
DUC: I don't intend to have anything more to do with you. I'm not as big a fool as I used to be.
CAP: Oh, you've been on a diet. Is it true that every time the fellows take you out, they really take you in? Is it true that you prefer men who prefer women who know what men prefer? Ah, 'tis women like you make men like me make women like you make men like me.
DUC: Precisely what are you insinuating?
CAP: I'm not insinuating a thing. I just want the world to know what a good heart you have. Why, your heart is like the Army--open to all men between eighteen and forty-five. Come, let us dance! En guarde!
Thank you, Ishaansh33! I'm most pleased you've enjoyed these screenplays! The vast majority of them didn't fulfill their primary purpose (to be turned into finished films), but it's greatly gratifying they can find some measure of entertainment value here!
TONY: Hey, you're some great dancer. I had an uncle who died dancing.
DIAN: On a ballroom floor?
TONY: No, on the end of a rope.
CAP: I'm spying on you.
TONY: I had this other uncle who was an Indian electrician. He installed light bulbs in the tribal outhouse. Yessir, my uncle was the first Indian to wire a head for a reservation.
DIAN: I'm sure your family is fascinating, but I wish you'd tell me more about yourself.
TONY: Well--I was a premature baby.
DIAN: Premature?
TONY: Sure. I was born before my parents were married.
CAP: I always knew he was one, but I never thought I'd hear him admit it.
TONY: (to Dianne) Say, are you free Saturday night?
CAP: No, but I'm sure she's reasonable. Why, she's been on more laps than a napkin. No wonder she keeps her hair light and her past dark.
DIAN: You're the most insulting man I've ever met.
CAP: (to Tony) I see she hasn't met your brother yet.
Exit Dianne.
CAP: Well, now what do you want to do?
TONY: (snaps fingers) I know. Let's play Building and Loan.
CAP: Building and Loan?
TONY: Yeah, just get out of the building and leave me alone.
CAP: I've got a better idea. Let's play horse. I'll be the front end--and you, you just be your natural self.
While the Duke holds a conversation with Mrs. Penrose, Honky picks his pocket. Instead of finding money in his wallet, the larcenous mute finds a wanted poster with the Duke's picture on it (minus his monocle and Van Dyke, however). He rushes over to Tony and shows it to him.
TONY: So what? Who is this guy?
Honky whistles, and shows him by drawing the necessary additions to the photo.
TONY: A picture of the Duke! I wonder what this writing says. (Honky shrugs) Hey, boss.
Enter Clapsaddle.
CAP: Say, don't you boys ever get tired of having yourselves around?
TONY: Read this.
CAP: My glasses are a little dusty. Why don't you read it to me?
TONY: Okay. What does it say?
CAP: That's what I'd like to know. Go on and read it.
TONY: All right--you read it.
CAP: All right. I'll read it to you. Can you hear?
TONY: I haven't heard anything yet. Did you say anything?
CAP: Well, I haven't said anything worth hearing.
TONY: Well, that's why I didn't hear anything.
CAP: Well, that's why I didn't say anything.
TONY: Can you read?
CAP: I can read but I can't see it. I don't seem to have it in focus here. I my arms were a little longer, I could read it. You haven't got an orangoutang in your pocket have you?
TONY: You leave your family out of this.
CAP: How much would you want to run into an open manhole?
TONY: Just the cover charge!
CAP: Well, drop in some time.
TONY: Sewer!
CAP: Well, I guess we cleaned that up. Say, do you know what this says? The Duke is a crook.
TONY: That doesn't surprise me. I think I recognize the Duchess, too. I've seen her before.
CAP: That's nothing. I've seen her behind. I think we both better keep an eye on those two.
TONY: That's fine. What do we do with our other eye?
CAP: Tony, I think I finally understand your problem. It's not that you don't have presence of mind; your problem is absence of thought.
Honky is moping.
CAP: What's wrong with him?
TONY: He's sad because he wrecked his car in a rainstorm.
CAP: What did he go out for?
TONY: The weatherman said it was a driving rain.
CAP: Tony, remind me never to engage you in a battle of wits. I never fight anybody who's unarmed. (They exit.)
Honky is back at the buffet. He furtively glances around, then tastes a cream pie. It meets with his approval, so he removes a shaving brush and spreads the cream over his features. He produces a mammoth razor and shaves the gooey stuff from his face. He washes the excess off in the punch bowl. He spots something in the bowl, and tries to spread the punch with his fingers. He produces a collapsible fishing pole, and baits the hook with a canape. He allows the hook to descend into the bowl. He quickly gets a bite, and pulls a large fish from the bowl. He places his catch triumphantly between two pieces of bread, and the image discreetly fades.
Tony is pestering Dianne again.
TONY: You know, you ought to get together with the Captain. You'd make a fastidious couple. Yessir, you're fast and he's hideous.
DIAN: Why don't you speak for yourself, Tony?
TONY: (grabbing her in a crude manner) Ah, bellissima...
DIAN: Wait a minute! Who said you could make love to me?
TONY: Just about everybody.
DIAN: Please, we must avoid this temptation.
CAP: I sometimes fly from temptation, but I always leave a forwarding address.
DIAN: (still struggling) Can't you act like a human being?
CAP: Sorry, he doesn't do impressions.
TONY: I heard that.
CAP: Cheeky devil! (He flips back his coat as they are interrupted be Mrs. Penrose's announcement.)
PEN: Attention! Attention everybody! It's time for our guest speaker.
The Duke edges over to the statue in order to grab it.
PEN: But first, we'll have a few words from our honored guest, the Duke of Earl.
Reluctantly, the Duke goes to the podium.
DUKE: Thank you, Mrs. Penrose. I--I really don't know what to say...
TONY: Then shut up.
Clapsaddle rushes down to shake Tony's hand and give him a cigar.
DUKE: Perhaps if anyone has any questions... ?
TONY: I have one. Tell me, does only one ear work, too? (As we all know, boys and girls, the Duke wears a monocle.)
CAP: I can't see him, but I bet I know who said it.
The Duke relinquishes the podium.
CAP: Don't call us, we'll call you.
PEN: I just can't tell you how happy I am that all of you could come tonight. This is truly a joyous occasion. Everything is suffused with a rosy hue.
CAP: The old girl is stewed to the eyebrows.
PEN: And now, the moment we've all been waiting for. I give you our distinguished guest speaker, the honorable Captain Horatio K. Clapsaddle. (Harpo blows loudly on a duck call.)
CAP: (To Mrs. Penrose) What say we blow this joint and go engage in some snappy necking?
PEN: What?!!
CAP: Aw, I was only fooling. (to audience) You folks will have to excuse me if I sound a little hoarse tonight. Last night I went to the movies, and now my doctor says I have a deep throat infection.
PEN: Captain Clapsaddle, could you tell us what you have found to be the key to survival in the wilds of Africa?
CAP: There is only one law in the jungle--Be Prepared!
THE MUSICAL PRODUCTION NUMBER "BE PREPARED" WILL BE PERFORMED AT THIS POINT.
The Duke starts to steal the statue, but Honky, who has taken a liking to it, steals if first.
CAP: And of course, that reminds me of the story of the two Irishmen... (he laughs)
There is polite laughter from the company, which escalates in proportion to Clapsaddle's own laughter.
CAP: I wish I could remember how it went.
Jonathan whispers a message to Mrs. Penrose.
PEN: Oh my heavens! My priceless Claus of Innsbruck statuette has been stolen!
At this rather dramatic point, Honky strolls in with the Duke's beard, mustache, monocle, and wig on. The Duke claws in horrified realization at his own exposed visage.
At this point the plainclothesman breaks in and collars the Duke.
COP: Well, well--if it isn't Fingers Calhoun. I never thought I'd be able to corner a slick operator like you. I'll probably get a promotion for this.
PEN: What's the meaning of this?
COP: I'm Lieutenant Brown of the bunko squad, lady. This guy is wanted for fraud in sixteen states.
The Duke breaks free, but Honky trips him. The statuette falls from the mute's coat, whacking the Duke into a state of unconsciousness.
PEN: My statuette! Officer, arrest that disgraceful vagabond!
Honky bolts as Brown handcuffs the inert Duke to the butler. A crazy chase scene ensues with the guests, the officer, Mrs. Penrose, Jonathan (dragging his new Siamese twin), the Brothers, the Duchess, Dianne, and assorted oddities popping out of and running through all the doors.
At one point in the chase, Dianne and Groucho are surprised in the closet by Lieutenant Brown.
CAP: Her kiss speaks volumes--and it's far from the first edition.
Mrs. Penrose backs into Honky, who hands her his leg as though it was a detachable object.
PEN: Help! Help!
CAP: (Popping his head out of the closet) Sorry, we don't need any.
Honky and Tony ambush Clapsaddle in a sideroom. They bind and gag him. Honky removes his trenchcoat, revealing the butler's oversized frock coat. He stuffs his hair under Clapsaddle's helmet. He pulls a false eyebrows-glasses-nose-and-mustache unit and a lit cigar from his pocket and dons them. The cast reassembles in the main room.
COP: Well, I guess that curly-headed looney got away.
Honky tries to whack the officer from behind, but Tony restrains him.
COP: But at least you've got your statue, and I've got this bird here. (Meaning the Duke) Come along, you.
Honky can't resist giving the officer a parting honk. The officer turns around but Honky merely looks innocent.
Clapsaddle, who has managed to free himself, staggers in as the cop exits. He sees the disguised Honky, and hides behind Mrs. Penrose.
Honky removes the disguise.
PEN: Call Lieutenant Brown back, Jonathan. I must have this creature properly dealt with.
CAP: Oh no, you don't. I'm not going through all that again. I'm sure the boy has reformed. (Honky rests his head on Clapsaddle's shoulder) Why, just look at that face. Yeah, just look at it. Why, he's honest as the day is long.
Honky picks Clapsaddle's pocket.
CAP: (Grabbing his wallet) What a short day that was!
TONY: Mrs. Penrose, we used to be dirty crooks, but we're not anymore. No sir. We took a bath last Sunday.
CAP: It must have been a month of Sundays. Oh, won't you reconsider, Ophelia. If not for his sake, which would be understandable, then for mine?
PEN: Oh, very well, Horatio.
Clapsaddle and Mrs. Penrose embrace and he ardently bends her backward.
CAP:
I put my arms around her waist,
And on her lips I placed a kiss,
I've sipped from many a cup before,
But never a mug like this.
He starts to kiss her, but she places a hand on his chest.
PEN: But what about the Duchess?
Tony and Honky start to circle the Duchess menacingly.
PEN: Can't you do something?
CAP: What for? They're doing plenty.Oh, say the word, Ophelia, and we'll live happily ever after.
PEN: Oh, yes, yes!
CAP: That's not the word. (He drops her to the ground.)
Clapsaddle joins Honky and Tony, and the three of them take off in hot pursuit of the fleeing Duchess.
GM wrote this take-off of the 18th Century stage play "Servant of Two Masters" for college credit, his premise being that the familiar Marx characters had been adapted from Commedia dell'arte archetypes. He must have made his case well, as the project earned an "A". Much of the comedic interchange was snitched from the feature films "Animal Crackers" and "Duck Soup"… if you're gonna pilfer, pilfer from the best! Accompanying illustrations can be found at the bottom of the post.
THE MARX BROTHERS
in
The Servant of Two Mistresses
a screenplay by
GM
(A room at Chicolini's inn.)
ALOYSIS: A fine thing! Me, Aloysis Bandersnatch, the man-servant of two old broads at the same time. I'd write a letter of complaint to the head of the domestic help agency if I didn't run it myself. Uh oh, this looks like bad news. (Enter Mrs. Rittenhouse) What did I tell you? Are you ready for dinner, Mrs. Rittenhouse? You'll probably want five courses if I'm any judge of horseflesh.
RITTENHOUSE: You wouldn't talk to me like that if my husband were here.
ALOYSIS: Not that I care, but where is your husband?
RITTENHOUSE: Why, he's dead.
ALOYSIS: I'll bet he's just using that for an excuse.
RITTENHOUSE: I was with him until the very end.
ALOYSIS: Huh! No wonder he passed away.
RITTENHOUSE: I held him in my arms and kissed him.
ALYOSIS: Oh, I see. Then it was murder. Will you marry me? Did he leave you any money? Answer the second question first.
RITTENHOUSE: He left me his entire fortune.
ALYOSIS: Is that so? Can't you see what I'm trying to tell you? I love you.
RITTENHOUSE: I'll never get married before my daughter.
ALYOSIS: You did once.
RITTENHOUSE: I've had enough. I shall want my dinner promptly upon my return. (Exit Mrs. Rittenhouse and enter serving girl.)
ALOYSIS: Hey, babe--how'd you like to see your name in lights?
SERVING GIRL: Are you an electrician?
ALOYSIS: No, but I've got some hot connections. (Enter Mrs. Teasedale from Aloysis's back… she touches him lightly.)
ALOYSIS: (assuming a fight stance) Thought you could sneak up on me, eh? Come on, I'll take you on. Come on, the three of you.
TEASEDALE: My dear Aloysis…
ALOYSIS: Aw, can't you see what I'm trying to tell you… I love you. There… I didn't want to say it, but you dragged it out of me. I love you.
TEASEDALE: I find that hard to believe when I find you talking to a common waitress.
ALOYSIS: Her? Do you know why I was talking to her? Because she reminds me of you. That's why I'm here with you now. Because you remind me of you. Your eyes, your lips, your hair. Everything about you reminds me of you. Except you. How do you account for that? If she figures that out, she's good.
TEASEDALE: Aloysis, I think we had better keep this on a business basis.
ALOYSIS: I'm ready to propose, and she wants to talk business. I don't know… there's something about me that brings out the business in every woman.
TEASEDALE: My good man--
ALOYSIS: My good woman--
TEASEDALE: I am not your good woman.
ALOYSIS: Don't say that, Mrs. Teasedale. I don't care about your past. To me, you will always be my good woman.
TEASEDALE: That's quite enough. I shall want my dinner when I return. (Exit Teasedale.)
ALOYSIS: Now I have to order lunch for both those babes. Chicolini! Chicolini!
CHICOLINI: (grumbling in Italian) Yeah, what do you want?
ALOYSIS: How about some dinner?
CHICOLINI: Okay, I'm game. How about it?
ALOYSIS: You do serve dinner here, don't you?
CHICOLINI: Yeah, but I no like to talk about food much. I'm on a diet. I haven't eaten for three days.
ALOYSIS: Three days?
CHICOLINI: Sure. Yesterday, today and tomorrow.
ALOYSIS: Chicolini, you have the brain of a four-year-old boy and I bet he was glad to get rid of it (Harponi chases a serving girl across the stage.) Who is that?
CHICOLINI: Him? He's the waiter.
(Harponi chases the girl across again.)
ALOYSIS: Aren't you going to do anything?
CHICOLINI: What for? He's doing plenty.
ALOYSIS: You boys must be in real estate. You're certainly a vacant lot.
CHICOLINI: I'll go fix the dinners.
ALOYSIS: (looking out the door) Holy Moses! Here comes Mrs. Rittenhouse. (He looks again.) And Mrs. Teasedale is right behind her. Waiter! Waiter! (enter Harponi) Harponi, my boy. Remember that trick we pulled last month. (Harponi nods, smiles, and hands him his leg.) Silly fellow.
(Aloysis dresses Harponi in an oversized frock coat and a false nose, glasses and mustache. The two seat the women as they come in. They manage to serve the first course, but both start to make time with the serving girls, oblivious to the two women.)
This is GM's most expansive Marx Brothers script, with loads of characters and plenty of locations. The mobster angle harkens back to the Marx's 1931 "Monkey Business", though none of that film's bits were replicated. The concept may, in fact, have been a tad too ambitious; Harpo's opening slapstick, for instance, would have been difficult to successfully stage. But GM was a darned clever lad… I'm not about to second-guess him.
Cracked Ice
A screenplay by
GM
Scene One
The first shot is of Harpo with a box marked GARDENER'S EQUIPMENT. He opens the box and extracts a new top hat with a banner reading GARDENER and a pair of antler-like branches sprouting from it. He produces a ludicrous pair of goggles and slips them on. He dons a pair of bulky gloves that are far too big for him. He then extracts every conceivable piece of gardening equipment from the much-too-small box, including a lawnmower, etc. In the end, he pulls out a gardening hose and tests it by turning the nozzle and squirting it. He selects some clippers from the pile of equipment and advances to the hedge, which is too tall for his reach. Harpo produces a pair of springs from his coat and straps them to his feet. Bouncing like a kangaroo, he clips the top of the hedge on each bounce.
Scene Two
The meeting of the crime boss and his lieutenants around a circular table.
Big Frank: Boys, the organization is in trouble. The cops have busted every racket we had in this town. Our funds are at zero.
Louie: What do you suggest we do, Big Frank?
Big Frank: You boys ever hear of the... Hefflefinger Diamond?
The miscreants look surprised.
Scarface: We're going to heist that?
Big Frank: (he nods) I've arranged for us to dispose of it through foreign channels. We'll make the snatch tomorrow night.
Scarface places his fingers to his lips--he jerks open the door and Harpo tumbles inside.
Scarface: Aha! (he pushes Harpo against the wall and pulls a heater) Say your prayers, you crummy little...
Big Frank: Hold it, Scarface! Put that heater away.
Scarface: He knows too much.
Big Frank: (putting his arm around Harpo, who hides behind him) Why do you think I hired this little fellow as my gardner? Not only can't he talk, but he doesn't know how to write, either. Now how's he going to tell anyone anything? (he pats Harpo on the head ) Now run along, little fellow. (Harpo starts to leave and stops, goes up to Scarface, and puts out his hand.)
Big Frank: See, Scarface? He wants to be friends.
Scarface puts his gun away, extends hand. Viciously and gleefully, Harpo kicks his shin and runs like the devil. Scarface jumps up and down, as an amused Big Frank laughs uproariously.
Scene Three
Harpo races to Hefflefinger Manor. He runs into Chico, who is obviously the Hefflefinger gardner.
Mozzarelli: Hey, Honky! Long time no see. How you like my new job? I'm the Contessa Huffulafinger's new gardener. Pretty classy, eh? Hey, what's the matter with you? You got something you want to tell me? Something very large. Giant? Huge? Big? Big. (Harpo makes Gookie and walks stiffly) Hey, you look just like my mother-in-law. Let's see. Dracula? Frankenstein? Frankenstein. Franken. Frank. Big Frank. (Harpo takes off his shoes and socks and pretends to wade) Ah, you crazy. You got cold feet about something? Wade? Wade. Big Frank Wade. Hey, I know him--he's a gangster. Is he going to kill somebody? Is he going to steal something? What's he going to steal? (Harpo falls to ground, kicks, plays dead) Drop dead? Play dead? Dead head? Croak? Kick the bucket? Die? Die. (Harpo produces a half-dollar, which Chico almost snatches) Half-dollar? Coin? Money? Money. Mon die. Monday! He's going to steal something on Monday? Oh, that's no good. Mon die. Die mon. Diamond! He's going to steal a diamond! Who's diamond? (Harpo counts on his fingers) Count his fingers. Countess fingers. Countess Huffulafinger's! Big Frank Wade, he's going to steal the Huffulafinger Diamond. (Harpo swoons from the exhaustion.)
Mozzarelli: Hey, we'll do what they do in the movies. We'll hire a private detective. Hey, you got a 'phone book on you? (Harpo pulls a huge one out of his coat) Let's see. Ah, private investigators! Here we go. Aloysius Bandersnatch--private eye, ear, nose, and throat. This guy, he's got everything. (Harpo produces a telephone from his coat--Chico takes it) Hey, that's fine. How come this thing doesn't work? (Harpo holds out his hand) Ah, fotcha motcha tooti minooti...(Chico gives Harpo a dime, which Harpo eagerly inserts in his ear...Chico dials as we fade to...)
Fade to the inside of the door, where we see Groucho in extreme CU.
Bandersnatch: (answers telephone in female voice) Mr. Bandersnatch's office. I'll see if he's in. (in own voice) Bandersnatch speaking. I see. You have a hot case for me. Well, why don't you put it in the refrigerator so we can all have a cold drink? An appointment? I'm pretty well filled up. Wait a minute! Wait a minute! I might be able to squeeze you in this afternoon. Say about 2:00. Fine. I'll be expecting you. Goodbye.
Groucho is obviously well-pleased at receiving his client, his first in what is probably a long time.
Chico and Harpo arrive at the office, but an out-to-lunch sign has been posted on the door.
Mozzarelli: Well we'll just have to wait 'til he gets back.
To the side of the door there is a sign reading WAITING ROOM, which points downward to a pile of magazines on the floor. Harpo tries to pick one up, but it's stuck. Chico examines the situation.
Mozzarelli: How do you like that? It's nailed to the floor. Hey, you know what I think? I think whoever runs this office hasn't got all his marbles.
Cut to a back alley, where an intense competition is underway.
Bandersnatch: I win! I win!
The kids leave in disgust as Groucho gathers up the marbles he has won. The scene fades to show Groucho loping up the corridor on the way to his office. He spots Harpo and Chico.
Bandersnatch: Barnum was wrong. There's two born every minute. Can I help you gentlemen?
Harpo looks for someone else. Chico hits him, points to the both of them.
Mozzarelli: We need a private detective.
Bandersnatch: (pointing to his sign) I could have sworn you needed your pants pressed. Well, come into my office.
He opens the door, revealing a broom closet containing a small table and two chairs.
Mozzarelli: Hey, that's a pretty small office.
Bandersnatch: Oh, I like to think of it as a cozy little hide-away. Besides, it keeps me warm in the winter.
They all try to climb in.
Bandersnatch: Hold it! Hold it! I think only two of us will fit in there.
Harpo and Chico pile into closet.
Bandersnatch: Wait a minute. One of you fellows will have to get out. Which one of you is going to do the talking?
Mozzarelli: My brother, he no can speak.
Bandersnatch: Most groundhogs can't. Oh, you mean he's mute. (Chico looks blank) You know what mute means, don't you?
Mozzarelli: Sure, I used to have a mute head over my fireplace.
Bandersnatch: I'll bet he has to stand on his head to turn things over in his mind. (turning from audience to Harpo) Here--you amuse yourself out here, my lad. (he pats Harpo on the head--Harpo hands him his leg) No thanks. Leg of muttonhead doesn't agree with me.
Chico goes inside--Harpo takes after a passing blonde--Groucho almost follows suit, but remembers his client and crawls into the closet.
Bandersnatch: What's wrong with your brother?
Mozzarelli: Ah, he's girl-crazy. No girl will go out with him--that's why he's crazy.
Bandersnatch: You know, your neck is just like a typewriter--Underwood. You sure you don't want your pants presses while we talk?
Mozzarelli: Well...
Bandersnatch: Fifty cents.
Mozzarelli: Okay. (he removes them) You know, your pants are pretty badly wrinkled--that could be bad for business.
Bandersnatch: You know, I think you've got something there--and if I were you, I'd get some penicillin for it. (he removes his own pants to press) Now why did you want to see me?
Quick fade.
Mozzarelli: ... and so, that's the story--are you going to take the case?
Bandersnatch: Tell me--is this Countess Hefflefinger... a widow?
Mozzarelli: Yeah.
Bandersnatch: And you say she's rich?
Mozzarelli: Filthy!
Bandersnatch: I don't care about that--is she rich?
Mozzarelli: She's worth millions.
Bandersnatch: (striking a dramatic pose) Then...I accept the case.
Mozzarelli: That's great. Let's go.
They exit.
Bandersnatch: Just a minute.
The camera zooms in--they are still in their underwear--Bandersnatch gets their pants from the closet. An officer of the law comes up while they don their pants--when they are finished, they see the cop and stand nervously waiting for him to lower the boom.
Officer: Say, you boys want to be a public nuisance?
Mozzarelli: Sure, how much does the job pay?
Officer: Why, you...
At this rather dramatic moment, Harpo returns. Seeing his friends' cruel plight, he extracts a brick from his pocket and whacks the cop a good one across the head.
Officer: (to departing Harpo) You! Stop!
Groucho and Chico retreat in the opposite direction.
Officer: Hold it, you two. Ah...er...eh...(he twists from side to side in indecision, finally throwing his stick to the floor in utter disgust and frustration.
