The Man in the Iron Mask Page #2

PORTHOS:

Ah ha! Here we are! Aramis!

Porthos is here!

They reach a doorway. Porthos kicks it open, staggers back,

and begins shoving the women inside.

INT. A PRIEST'S APARTMENT - DAY

The first of the partying women tumbles inside; she stops

short at what she sees. The second and third stumble in

after her and they too stop dead still, sobered by what they

see. Then with a great roar Porthos barrels in.

PORTHOS:

Aaaaaaaramis!! Porthos is --

He stops dead in his tracks. From the POV OF PORTHOS AND THE

WOMEN, we see ARAMIS. Always the most theological of the

Musketeers, and ruthlessly brilliant, he is still lean and

powerful. And still handsome, or at least he would be; but

now he kneels before a single candle at a private altar,

wearing sackcloth and ashes in penitent prayer.

PORTHOS:

Sorry, my dears. You would have

enjoyed it too. He's hung like a

donkey.

WENCH 1

So are you.

PORTHOS:

Really? I haven't been able to see

it for fifteen years. Go on now,

leave His Holiness alone. I'll

bring you back tomorrow when he's in

a better mood.

He whacks their bottoms, herding them out, then swaggers to

Aramis, heaving himself to a seat beside his praying friend.

PORTHOS:

Please revel with me, Aramis, I need

my spirits lifted. I'm old, I'm

weak, my strength is gone --

ARAMIS:

Be quiet, you fat fool. Can't you

see I'm praying?

PORTHOS:

I just said you're praying! Are you

deaf too? I know you're blind,

because if you had seen the tits

that just walked out of here, you'd

have tears in your eyes.

ARAMIS:

(trying to ignore him)

There are more important things than

tits.

PORTHOS:

Really? If you can name me one

thing, one single thing, that is

more sublime than the feel of a

plump pink nipple between my lips,

I will buy you a new cathedral.

Aramis is still trying to pray, but rises to the bait.

ARAMIS:

Forgiveness.

PORTHOS:

Forgiveness?

As if in reply, Porthos lets rip an enormous rolling fart.

PORTHOS:

(beat)

Forgive me.

Aramis' fingers clamp down on the rosary beads, as he tries

to keep praying.

PORTHOS:

Am I forgiven?

Aramis abruptly backhands his huge friend. Porthos reels

backwards, landing in a chair.

PORTHOS:

I observe your forgiveness isn't

sweeter than a plump nipple.

ARAMIS:

Can't you see I'm praying,

goddammit?!

Porthos raises a foot and kicks the bishop in the balls.

Aramis staggers back and grabs a chair to throw it; Porthos

picks up the whole table -- just as d'Artagnan enters.

PORTHOS AND ARAMIS

D'Artagnan.

Porthos tosses the table aside and bear hugs d'Artagnan.

PORTHOS:

How are you, you skinny little pup!

Aramis sets the chair down in embarrassment.

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