Paris - When It Sizzles Page #4

and see a whole new other day,

l just go absolutely ape.

l've got an idea.

l got an idea!

The first good one in four months.

No, l had an idea to give up

drinking - it didn't photograph.

Now this could be good.

Very good indeed.

A simple story

of a simple Parisian working girl

and how she spends July 14th.

The whole picture plays in one day.

And l've got two days to write it.

Fade in. Exterior, Paris.

As our story begins,

it's early Bastille Day morning.

And all the trumpets of Paris

are sounding reveille.

Over a shot of the Arch of Triumph,

superimpose

''An Alexander Meyerheim production''.

Cut to the Eiffel Tower.

The main title.

The trumpets segue

into the inevitable title song.

Maybe we can get

Sinatra to sing it.

There follows an interminable list

of other credits

acknowledging the efforts of

all the quote little people unquote,

whom I shall graciously thank

in my acceptance speech

at the Academy Awards.

As the cymbals crash,

''Original Story and Screenplay

by Richard Benson''.

OK.

Fade out.

And fade in.

A picturesque Parisian square,

where the holiday festivities

are in progress.

A simple Parisian working girl,

who looks remarkably like you,

Miss Simpson,

emerges from

her simple Parisian dwelling

and makes her way through the crowd

and across the square.

She seats herself at a table

at this little caf she goes to.

With breathless anticipation,

she awaits the arrival of her date.

Some... actor.

Now I suppose

we'll have to describe him.

I see him

as curiously unattractive.

Not at all. Philippe happens to be

very handsome.

In fact, he looks rather like,

erm, Tony Curtis.

I see him as one of those

mumbling scratching actors

destined only for minor roles

and character parts.

And his name is not Philippe.

It's Maurice.

Maurice!

Like, er, bonjour, baby.

- Bonjour, Maurice!

- Hey.

Oh, l'm so excited. l didn't sleep

a wink. Do you like my dress?

Yeah, very groovy.

Would it be too wicked

if instead of breakfast

we had a glass of champagne

right here?

Thanks.

- Look, baby...

- Yes, Maurice?

This Bastille Day gig?

Like, erm,

we're gonna have to cool it.

But, Maurice, l don't understand.

Well, see, baby, l'm going to

have to cut. See, last night,

while l was making the scene

at le drug store,

l was tearing an expresso

with a couple of local citizens

when, erm, all of a sudden

this New Wave-looking stud comes in

and says his name is Roger Roussin

and, like, he's making a film

about Bastille Day.

No Dancing in the Streets.

No Dancing in the Streets?

ln Roger's flick it, like,

erm,... rains.

Anyway, he offers me the lead.

Oh, Maurice,

l'm, like, so happy for you.

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