Wild Wild West Page #4

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GENTLEMAN:

He most certainly did not!

POMEROY:

Well, then who the hell...?!

They stop in mid-argument, wide-eyed as they see --

The Baron removing his fake mustache and beard. He drops

his pince-nez, along with his French accent. He is in

fact:

ARTEMUS:

Artemus Gordon, U.S. Marshal. And

you, my good sir, are under arrest

for possession of stolen Government

property...

Artemus takes a sip of wine, wincing at the flavor.

ARTEMUS:

...And for serving a decidedly

inferior Pouilly-Fuisse.

EXT. THE WHITE HOUSE - ESTABLISH - DAY

It looks pretty much the same except for the dirt driveway

and the herd of sheep tending the lawn.

INT. WHITE HOUSE - PRESIDENT'S OFFICE - DAY

The doors fly open and in marches PRESIDENT ULYSSES S.

GRANT, a cigar in his teeth, followed by COLONEL RICHARDS,

a veteran lawman, and Grant's diffident assistant PANGBORN.

GRANT:

Don't try to bamboozle me, Colonel.

Has another scientist been kidnapped

or not?

RICHARDS:

(apologetic)

Well, yes sir. A Professor Morton,

but with just a little more time,

sir, I can assure you a breakthrough

on this case...

Grant marches to his desk, flinging his spent cigar into

an ashtray.

GRANT:

Listen, in two days I'm embarking

on a tour of the western

territories. And I want to know

at least one problem is being

handled competently in my absence.

RICHARDS:

Of course, sir, that's why I've

assigned a new man. And he's no

ordinary Marshal. He's quite

sophisticated. Three college

degrees. A master of disguise.

Speaks French...

GRANT:

(unimpressed)

French?

RICHARDS:

Yes sir.

GRANT:

French? Damn it, I want my own

man on this case. Somebody I trust.

Somebody who doesn't mind breaking

up the furniture!

CRASH! They HEAR a SCUFFLE outside the door. The

President smiles. He glances at his watch.

GRANT:

Sounds like him now.

The doors fly open. TWO GUARDS are tossed onto the carpet.

Jim stands over them, straightening his gun-belt.

JIM:

Sorry, sir. What's this about no

guns in the White House?

Grant walks over to greet him.

GRANT:

Captain West...

They shake hands warmly.

JIM:

Mr. President, good to see you

again, sir.

(re the guards)

Sorry about all that.

GRANT:

(to the guards)

That'll be all, boys.

The guards get up and leave. Jim nods to them:

JIM:

Good work. Really.

GRANT:

This is Colonel Richards.

JIM:

Nice to finally meet you, sir.

Jim shakes hands with a baffled Richards who turns

helplessly to Grant and blusters:

RICHARDS:

Why surely, Mr. President, there

must be some mistake. I mean...

GRANT:

A mistake? To assign this case to

the man who blew up all the bridges

on the Chattanooga River and single-

handedly trapped Jackson's entire

cavalry? How is that a mistake?

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