Wild Wild West Page #2
light hits him as the stairway door opens above. There
stands Slim, his gun drawn. He grins:
SLIM:
Aww, you lost your shooters.
Slim gleefully c*cks his gun, but Jim reaches into his
lapel, pulling out a deadly throwing knife. SWISH! Slim
is pinned to the wall by his ear. He screams in agony.
More FOOTSTEPS above. In seconds the other men will be
upon him. Jim backs up, looking around, trapped.
Larson and his men clatter down the stairs. They fan
out, warily looking for their dangerous prey. But there's
no sign of him. Suddenly, with a HISS, a brilliant light
flares up. The men spin, aiming their guns. Oh sh*t!
It's a flaming trail of blasting powder -- racing toward
the jumble of broken powder kegs!
The horrified gunmen YELL in panic as they scramble over
themselves trying to get away. They don't make it.
EXT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT
We hear the men SCREAMING. Then the whole place goes up
in a HUGE EXPLOSION.
The debris rains down all over the street. As the smoke
clears, a stunned, awestruck Sheriff Walters peeks out
from his hiding place, then edges cautiously up to the
smoldering crater.
ANGLE - CRATER
Down in the ruins nothing is recognizable except -- the
scorched safe, now lying on its side. Its door THUDS
open. And out rises dazed Jim. He looks up at Walters.
JIM:
See? Stand up to 'em and they go
all to pieces.
We hear the CLINK of wine glasses and a MOZART QUARTET
and
CUT TO:
INT. MANSION - DRAWING ROOM - NIGHT
SUPER:
"NEW YORK CITY"This lavishly decorated room is filled with upper-crust
SOCIETY PEOPLE having their version of a good time.
Among them is an elegant and dashing Frenchman, the BARON.
He wears pince-nez glasses above a mustache and full beard.
He walks with a pronounced stiff-legged limp. At the
moment he's sniffing an inferior wine and scowling at a
really bad painting. He winces as a hefty Margaret Dumont
type society MATRON slinks flirtatiously up behind him.
MATRON:
Oh Baron, so here's where you've
been hiding. All the ladies are
asking about you, but I told them
you are mine tonight!
(re the painting)
Ah, the Baron appreciates a fine
painting, n'est-ce-pas?
The Baron tries to overlook her godawful French and
responds indulgently in a Pepe le Pew FRENCH ACCENT:
BARON:
In-croy-able.
MATRON:
(translating)
In-croy-able...? Incredible, yes?
BARON:
Incredible, yes, that this charlatan
paintings. Ah, but perhaps the
poor man is, how you say, paralyzed
and is forced to hold the paint
brush in his mouth, non?
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"Wild Wild West" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 19 Apr. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/wild_wild_west_668>.
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