RKO 281 Page #6

MARION:

And we would hear them scuttling around at night

with their little red eyes and little yellow t-t-

teeth and I'm just imagining plague lice jumpin' all

over the damn place So we set t-t-traps everywhere.

And every morning we would find the t-t-traps sprung

but no mice!

CAROLE LOMBARD:

Houdini mice.

Laughter

MARION:

Just wait. So one night I notice Pops getting outta

bed and sneaking away. And he's got this little p-p-

paper bag with him, right? Middle of the night. So I

figure the old man's really up to no good this time

and I follow him. Well I'll be g-g-goddamned if he's

not springing all the traps and leaving cheese for

the rats!

MARION:

You and that freak Disney, in love with the damn

rats!

Laughter, even from Hearst

HEARST:

They really are sweet little things

Meanwhile, across the table Welles is rapaciously devouring his dinner

as:

WELLES:

Sigmund Freud?

MANK:

Kid, you just got your ass kicked on Joseph Conrad

and now you're gonna go to Schaefer and tell him you

wanna do the id and the superego? Stop being so

goddamn smart.

Mank surreptitiously pours a huge shot of vodka from his flask into his

glass as:

WELLES:

(suddenly inspired)

Manolete?!

MANK:

Who the hell's Manolete?

WELLES:

The great Spanish bullfighter

MANK:

I don't wanna write about no spic.

WELLES:

No, it's perfect! When in doubt, put on a cape!

False noses and faux beards and flowing capes have

been the life-blood of the actor's craft since the

days of lrving and Booth. (He flourishes his napkin

like a bullfighter's cape.) Imagine me in a

glittering suit of lights on the dusky Andalusian

plains--

MARION:

Why Mr. Welles is attempting semaphore

Welles smiles across the table.

Laughter.

WELLES:

Bullfighting, Miss Davies!

MARION:

And is dear Mank your b-b-bull?

WELLES:

My factotum, ally and comrade-in-arms

MANK:

Writer, flunkie, pimp--

CAROLE LOMBARD:

(wry)

You fight many bulls there in New York, Orson?

WELLES:

Ever met Walter Winchell?

WELLES:

(expansively, warming into a story)

No, when I was but a tender lad--

CAROLE LOMBARD:

Last week would this be?

Laughter. As Welles speaks the whole table gradually stops eating and

listens to his tale:

WELLES:

My father and I made a tour of the grand boulevards

of antique Europe. And when we were in Iberia I had

the chance to face the bulls. At the knee of the

great Manolete I took up the cape and sword -

(he uses his napkin and knife to

demonstrate)

-- across from me stood a mammoth bull reputed to

have gored a full seven men to a grisly demise! So -

- with Manolete shouting encouragement I flourished

. . . I flourished again . . . and the bull charged!

Across the golden dust it came, thundering like the

great minotaur of legend, closer, ever closer, its

calamitous hooves pounding into the dirt, shaking

the earth as I held the crimson eye of the bull with

my own, defying it -- it was almost upon me and I

flourished one last time! -- the monster swept past!

-

(he spins his napkin in the air and his

knife is now gone, a magic trick)

-- and my sword was gone -- buried in the bloody

eye of the beast!

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