Wild Wild West Page #3

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The lady is speechless. The Baron notices a man urgently

beckoning to him from across the room. It is POMEROY, a

shifty-eyed business tycoon

BARON:

Ah! I am desolate to be pulled

from your large presence! But I

believe I am required... uh, you

would say "yonder."

And he hurries away from the overheated, disappointed

dame.

INT. MANSION - LIBRARY - NIGHT

Pomeroy ushers the Baron and three other distinguished

GENTLEMEN into the richly appointed library. Suddenly

serious, he locks the door and crosses to a bookshelf.

POMEROY:

Gentlemen, down to the real business

of the evening. Allow me to present

our...

(American accent)

... piece de resistance.

(to the Baron)

Is that how you parlay it, Baron?

The Baron smiles graciously and corrects his French:

BARON:

Piece de resistance, Monsieur.

POMEROY:

Uh... yes...

Pomeroy swings open a section of bookshelf revealing a

hidden compartment. And there stands -- a gleaming brass,

carriage-mounted Gatling gun. Pomeroy proudly rolls it

into the room. The men are impressed.

POMEROY:

Dr. Gatling's latest model. Fires

eighty rounds without reloading.

GENTLEMAN:

How many of these do you have,

sir?

Pomeroy smiles as he moves to a side table and opens a

box of expensive cigars.

POMEROY:

Sixteen. All of them freshly,

shall we say, "removed" from a

poorly guarded local armory. And

available to you at a very

reasonable price. Cigars,

gentlemen?

The three gentlemen gather round, taking cigars.

Unseen by them, the Baron has moved away and is pulling

something strange out of his pants leg -- a loaded magazine

for the Gatling gun.

GENTLEMAN:

Mighty effective, I'd imagine, for

keeping the damn regulators out of

my business. Let's talk money.

Pomeroy smiles greedily and toasts them:

POMEROY:

My kind of music.

KER-KLATCH. They all turn at the sound. The Baron is

sliding the magazine into the Gatling gun.

POMEROY:

(nervously)

Uh... Baron, sir, what...? Uh...

ne touchez la...

To their horror, the smiling Baron starts calmly cranking

away -- BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM!!!

Pomeroy and his terrified guests hit the floor. But the

Baron aims just above them, strafing the oak-paneled wall.

The Baron pauses. He now aims the smoking gun barrels at

the men as they poke their startled faces up from behind

the furniture.

Then he notices another big, awful painting by the same

no-talent painter. He swivels the big gun --

BLAMBLAMBLAM! -- and decimates it. He sighs, satisfied:

BARON:

Art lovers will thank me.

He swings the gun back onto the baffled men. Pomeroy's

enraged client turns to him.

GENTLEMAN:

Who is this madman?!

POMEROY:

The... the Baron! He said he came

with you.

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