The West Point Story Page #3

- That's reserved for upperclassmen.

- Yes, sir.

Now, I'm going to make

a soldier out of you...

...from the top of your head

to your toes.

First thing, put that hat on properly.

Pull in that chin. Lots of wrinkles.

Get those slimy green eyes off me.

Now let's see you pop that chest up.

Touch my hand.

You heard me. Pop up that chest.

Suck up that horrible gut.

You can't run around with that

stomach dragging on the pavement.

Get those knees together.

Report to my room, 1423, immediately

after extra instruction. Got that?

Drive on.

Pop up that chest! Touch my hand!

You don't have to break it off.

If you don't like this place

and you don't like Eberhart...

...why did you get on that train

at 125th Street...

...drag me off

and sell me a bill of goods...

...about coming up

to do an amateur show?

Just for you, sweetheart. Just for you.

First classmen wait

For the dance to come

With all the joys they bring

So join us and sing

One hundred days till June

June will come soon

Lieutenants we will be

With the shining bars of gold

On our Army OD

We'll cast one glance

At these old gray walls

We'll bid a fond farewell

Oh, join and sing

Of 100 days till June

Oh, join and sing

Of 100 days till June

Is that coming out of him?

- Mr. Bixby?

- Yes.

I'm Colonel Martin. Glad to see you.

Mr. Eberhart's told me so much about you.

Welcome to West Point.

Thank you. Eve Dillon, my assistant.

- How do you do.

- How do you do, miss.

- Oh, Mr. Fletcher.

- Sir?

- Mr. Bixby.

- Fletcher.

My uncle phoned me

you were coming, sir.

- This is Colonel Martin, our faculty adviser.

- Met the colonel.

- Hal Courtland.

- How do you do, sir.

Eve Dillon, my assistant.

- How do you do.

- How do you do, Miss Dillon.

This is Bull Gilbert, sir.

He's our princess in the show.

Too bad you couldn't find a big one.

"Honey Blond, Red Head, Ash Blond,

Strawberry Blond, Auburn."

"Brownette..." Somebody can't spell.

"Blond, Brunette."

Now, these characters with the signs on,

what are they?

Our chorus girls, sir.

No women in the show?

This isn't Broadway, Mr. Bixby.

This is West Point.

You see, sir, all our girls are men.

But every one's a lady.

That makes it cozy.

Something Rodgers and Hammerstein never

thought, a musical show without women.

We're about to do

one of our numbers, sir.

- Suppose we do it for you?

- That'd be fine.

Now, you'll have to imagine

that this is Flirtation Walk.

And that chair is the Kissing Rock.

Bull here is the princess.

This the Flirtation Walk,

that the Kissing Rock...

...and this is the princess.

You've been kissed, I know

In the very last row

When the love scene is on

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes