Man on the Moon Page #2
DRUNK AUDIENCE:
TWEET!!
ANDY:
"And the lion goes..."
DRUNK AUDIENCE:
ROAR!!
ANDY:
"And that's the way it goes!"
(he grins)
Thank you. Goodbye!
Andy waves and bows. There's faint scattered applause.
Andy sighs. An irritated MANAGER steps onstage. He shoots
Andy a disgruntled look, then takes the mike.
MANAGER:
The comedy stylings of Andy Kaufman,
Ladies and Gentlemen!
In the b.g., Andy starts packing up his props: Hand puppets,
conga drums, a phonograph... it all goes into a big bulky
case.
CUT TO:
INT. NY NIGHTCLUB - 1975 - LATER THAT NIGHT
The club is empty. At the bar, the manager cleans up. Andy
eagerly comes over. Offstage, his presence is soft, placid
-- his voice barely above a whisper.
ANDY:
So, Mr. Besserman, same slot
tomorrow...?
MANAGER:
(awkward)
Eh, I dunno... Andy. I'm...
thinkin' of letting you go...
ANDY:
You're firing me??
(beat)
You don't even pay me!
MANAGER:
Look -- I don't wanna seem
insulting. But... your act is like
amateur hour:
Singalongs...puppets... playing records...
A stunned beat. Andy is hurt.
ANDY:
What do you want? "Take my wife,
please"??
MANAGER:
Sure! Comedy! Make jokes about the
traffic. Do impressions. Maybe a
little blue material...
ANDY:
I don't swear. I -- I don't do what
everyone else does!
MANAGER:
Well, everyone else gets this place
cookin'! Pal, it's hard for me to
move the booze when you're singin'
"Pop Goes The Weasel."
Andy stares, disheartened.
MANAGER (cont'd)
I'm sorry. You're finished here.
An uncomfortable beat -- and then Andy starts crying.
The manager is dumbfounded. He doesn't know what to do.
Tears are rolling pitifully down Andy's cheeks. The manager
is confused -- totally disoriented. Shamed, Andy covers his
face, then runs out. Silence. The manager stares after
him... having no idea what just happened.
EXT. NY NIGHTCLUB - 1975 - NIGHT
Sobbing Andy bursts out the door. He steps onto the
sidewalk -- and IMMEDIATELY STOPS CRYING. Just like that.
Andy lifts his big case and starts walking. Andy shakes his
head angrily.
He turns down a dark street, hurrying alone through an
unsavory New York neighborhood. But then... TWO MEN
appear... silently approaching. Andy stops uncertainly --
debating whether to turn around. But in that second -- the
thugs are upon him, glaring menacingly.
THUG #1
Give us your wallet.
Andy stares fearfully. An anxious moment. He thinks...
considering his options.
Then, he suddenly stammers in a thick FOREIGN ACCENT.
ANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN)
I -- doo not unterstand!!
THUG #1
Give us your money!
ANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN)
What?? What mooney? Abu daboo! I
do not have mooney!
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"Man on the Moon" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 26 Apr. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/man_on_the_moon_718>.
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