Different Strokes: How I (Gulp!) Wrote, Directed, and Starred in an X-rated Movie (John Warren Wells on Sexual Behavior)
Page 2
(Snaps fingers; explosion.) Much warmer.
64. Same as #60.
SOPHIE
Well, I’ll be damned . . . (She stands there and slowly backs away from PLUTO, hands on hips, looking at him.)
65. PLUTO POV SOPHIE.
PLUTO
Bull’s-eye!
66. SOPHIE POV PLUTO. She walks to the bar to pour a drink. She speaks over her shoulder as she is pouring.
SOPHIE
And just who or what are you supposed to be, anyway?
67. Two-shot.
PLUTO
PLUTO JONES. My card. (He proffers a card and hands it to SOPHIE, who is standing at the bar.)
68. Close-up of PLUTO’S card, which reads: PLUTO JONES/ HELL/Department of Sexual Fulfillment/Personnel Selection Division/Recruiter, 3rd Asst./Employee number 365566774774. Camera stays here long enough for this to be easily read.
SOPHIE
Oh, my God . . . (Really drawn out.)
69. Medium close-up of SOPHIE. She is taking a sip of her drink and fingering the edge of the card to check its quality. She nods to herself, impressed. Pause two beats.
SOPHIE
(She hands the card back to PLUTO, walks past him and the camera pans to the couch as she sits down. We are now in a two-shot favoring SOPHIE. She delivers the lines during her motion, ending as she sits down.) So what’s this got to do with me? I still don’t get it.
70. Medium shot of PLUTO POV SOPHIE. He moves to the couch and sits down as the camera pans and dollies to reframe for a two-shot.
PLUTO
Well that’s been the whole problem, hasn’t it.
SOPHIE
What? Oh, I see. Very cute. So the question is what in the hell have you got for me?
PLUTO
Well, if . . .
SOPHIE
And listen, sweetie, whatever you’ve got for me, it better be something better than what I’m used to getting. Know what I mean?
PLUTO
Well, Sophie, if it’s in Hell, I guarantee I can get it for you. (He has opened his briefcase. He has taken out fourteen thousand forms and is arranging them on the coffee table.)
71. The same, but time has passed. PLUTO’S papers are cluttering the table, his jacket is off, his tie loose, his sleeves rolled up. The ashtray is overflowing with cigarette butts, etc.
SOPHIE
What mixes me up is the way things fit together. You came because I went down on that lamp, but you ain’t no genie with the light brown hair.
PLUTO
One myth can borrow from another.
SOPHIE
Isn’t that plagiarism?
PLUTO
On a grand scale, it’s called research.
SOPHIE
(Over her glass as she drains it.) Oh, it’s like that.
72. PLUTO POV SOPHIE. Fiddling still with papers. Businesslike.
PLUTO
No, actually it’s like this . . . (Snaps fingers; explosion.)
73. Same as #72. SOPHIE staring at her drink now full again. Looks for a second. Takes a sip.
SOPHIE
Very convenient, that, very convenient.
74. PLUTO, as in #72.
PLUTO
Merely parlor games. (But he looks a bit proud, then again all business.) However, why don’t we get back to the deal I’m offering.
SOPHIE
(OC) Deal? (Picks up forms, shuffles them.) That’s where we go from Aladdin to Faust. I sign on the dotted line. Then I get three wishes, and in return for that you’ve got a claim on my immortal soul.
PLUTO
Check and double-check. (He finds the right form, picks up the pen, uncaps it, leans forward, then pauses and PLUTO lets out breath he has been holding for quite some time.)
SOPHIE
Wait a minute. There’s a trick here somewhere.
75. Shot of PLUTO’S reaction, eyes rolling heavenward, exhausted and exasperated.
76. Two-shot, focus on SOPHIE.
SOPHIE
I mean, I could lay it out straight and pick up all the marbles. Three wishes. One: Eternal life. Two: Eternal youth and beauty. Three: Eternal happiness. Which leaves you playing with your tail, doesn’t it?
PLUTO
Let’s back up a couple of frames, SOPHIE. I think you missed the opening credits.
77. Cut to opening shot of #68, business card, as PLUTO reads:
PLUTO
“Hell.” Now, the whole corporation doesn’t have anything substantive to do with life, youth, beauty or happiness. For those subjects you’d have to deal with another firm entirely.
78. Close-up SOPHIE.
SOPHIE
I see.
79. Two-shot favoring PLUTO.
PLUTO
“Department of Sexual Fulfillment.” That’s my specific territory. That’s what I can offer you. Three ultimate fantasies come true. Three trips around the universe. If it’s in Hell, I can give it to you. And if it’s sexy, Hell’s the place to find it . . . Take a look at this. (He hands her a document.) I’m sure it’s completely self-explanatory.
SOPHIE
(Taking document.) Looks like my first wedding license. (It is a parchment scroll wrapped in a black ribbon. She unties the ribbon.)
80. Close on PLUTO’S face from a fake POV SOPHIE. He is nodding to himself and smiling. As we begin our pullback, zoom lens, he snaps his fingers and winds up holding a plate of ice cream in his hand. He begins eating. We continue the pullback and wind up on a shot of SOPHIE’S hands unrolling the document. PLUTO is still visible, out of focus, in the background. The document itself is heavily illuminated on the top and sides. The first letter is very ornate and the only words we can read are the first words of each paragraph which are the same: “Whereas.” There are several blank lines. The whole thing is out of the Middle Ages. We hold this shot for several beats.
81. SOPHIE POV PLUTO.
SOPHIE
(Reading.) Let’s see. “Whereas the Damned hereinafter referred to as the party of the first part agrees and enters into covenant . . .”
82. Close-up PLUTO eating ice cream. Nodding as she reads.
83. Same as #81.
SOPHIE
“. . . with the Lord of Evil hereinafter referred to as the party of the second part.” (She puts down the paper.) Pluto, what the hell is this?
PLUTO
Now, now, Sophie . . .
84. Two-shot.
PLUTO
. . . don’t get yourself excited. That’s really only legalese and . . .
SOPHIE
(She has picked up the form and is reading again.) “. . . and eternal damnation of the immortal soul hereinafter referred to as part of the party of the first part . . .”
PLUTO
. . . only a carry-over from the days when people worried about that sort of thing. You know, (Ticks off on his fingers.) soul, salvation, sinning. You know, the three big S’s of the Middle Ages.
SOPHIE
(Leans over to PLUTO. Then gets up to go to bar.) Look, Pluto, if I have a soul . . . (There is a knock on the door.)
85. Close on SOPHIE’S face. We start on the back of her head and she turns to the camera.
SOPHIE
Oh, my God, it’s the rough riders again.
86. Medium shot of SOPHIE going to the door. Camera dollies behind her. She opens the door, and it’s no one else but—
SOPHIE
Irving, it’s nice to see you up and around, but . . .
IRVING
(Carrying a bigger gift this time.) Sophie, you little temptress . . .
87. Two-shot from behind IRVING.
IRVING
. . . how about . . .
SOPHIE
Irving, I can’t talk now, why don’t . . .
IRVING
. . . try out my entire collection . . .
88. Same as #86.
IRVING
. . . of vulgar expressions. (Gestures madly, one finger after another.)
SOPHIE
I tell you what, Irving, you go back and get things ready . . .
IRVING
. . . yeah, yeah, yeah . . . (Nodding.)
SOPHIE
. . . we”ll curl up on your davenport and gesture at each other. (She begins closing the door.)
IRVING
(As the door closes.) . . . you little vixen, you . . .
89. Two-shot, PLUTO and SOPHIE.
SOPHIE
Later, Irving, later . . . (Rests her back on the closed door.) God, I need a drink. (Heads to the bar.)
PLUTO
A simple courtesy. Compliments of the company. (Snaps, etc.) Here you go.
90. SOPHIE POV PLUTO.
SOPHIE
(Toasts PLUTO.) I expected nothing less. (She walks to the couch, camera follows and reframes for two-shot as previously.)
PLUTO
Who was that, by the way?
SOPHIE
Someone even more unbelievable than you. (Drinks.) Now where were we . . . ?
PLUTO
Discussing your . . .
SOPHIE
. . . that’s right, my soul. Three wishes for my soul.
91. Two-shot, focus on SOPHIE.
SOPHIE
I don’t know. I mean, what can you give me that I haven’t already had? I’ve been married ten times—
PLUTO
Eleven, according to our research department.
SOPHIE
(Puzzled, then nods.) That’s if you count Walter, but he didn’t amount to much. We met through a lonely-hearts club. I claimed to be a virgin and he claimed to be forty-five.
92. Close on PLUTO, thoughtful.
93. Close on SOPHIE, remembering.
SOPHIE
I’ll never forget our wedding night. I was about as close to virginity as he was to forty-five. I kept moaning that it hurt and he kept trying to strap a splint to it. The only thing that hardened were his arteries, and that was the end of that marriage . . .
94. Same as #92, with PLUTO getting increasingly thoughtful, and we DISSOLVE TO:
95. Same shot of attentive PLUTO, but he is not in SOPHIE’S apartment now. He is in MADGE’S office, but at first we see no detail because we are in too close. During SOPHIE’S next speech we back up, first to disclose more of PLUTO.
SOPHIE’S VOICE
. . . the Shetland pony. That was in New Orleans and it was great being in show business until the night the pony’s platform broke.
PLUTO’S VOICE
I can imagine.
SOPHIE’S VOICE
No, you can’t . . . (Camera pulls back further to disclose tape recorder on table beside Pluto.)
SOPHIE’S VOICE
. . . Not unless you fell off a roof and landed on a broomstick.
96. Camera pulls back further to show us MADGE. She is a big, full-breasted woman. She smokes a cigarette in a long ivory holder. At this point, she is wearing a rather shapeless velvet robe. Early on in the recorded conversation the phone on her desk rings. She picks it up and says, “Yes, right,” a couple of times and hangs up. Then she stands and removes the robe, under which she is stark naked. We see her from PLUTO’S POV as the recorded conversation continues. In very businesslike fashion she moves about her office getting dressed in every ferocious S-and-M prop the Pleasure Chest can provide—anklets and wristlets, studded leather belts, etc. Puts on a pair of towering high-heeled boots. The whole number.
SOPHIE’S VOICE
. . . And then there was the time I got raped by all those guys. Fifteen of the bastards, and they still couldn’t get me off. You can imagine how it wound up. They were the ones who had to call the cops.
PLUTO’S VOICE
Not that I’m not enjoying this, Sophie, but we’re wasting time.
SOPHIE’S VOICE
You already know all this?
PLUTO’S VOICE
We have an extraordinary research department. Look at the pool we have to draw on. All the researchers and statisticians in the world—oh, maybe one or two of them might have signed with the other firm, but the rest of them wound up in Hell.
SOPHIE’S VOICE
It figures.
PLUTO’S VOICE
What it comes down to is that you’ve had everything between your legs but a toll booth. But it doesn’t work for you anymore.
SOPHIE’S VOICE
I don’t get off.
PLUTO’S VOICE
Well, I can get you off.
SOPHIE’S VOICE
You?????
97. At this point MADGE is dressed to maim, if not to kill. She reaches over and shuts the tape recorder off.
PLUTO
It gets better, Madge. If you . . .
MADGE
I was hoping it would. But it’ll have to wait for a minute. I’m on a tight schedule.
PLUTO
Oh?
98. MADGE POV PLUTO. She picks a dildo off the desk, uses it as a prop-cigar, does the Groucho Marx duck walk, and says, eyes rolling and all:
MADGE
It’s my last chance to beat the other couples. (She takes the world’s most menacing whip from a hook on the wall and strides to the door. She goes out the door.)
99. Close-up PLUTO. We stay on him and watch his reactions as we hear horrible sounds from the next room; MADGE flailing with the whip and male and female screams.
100. The door, POV PLUTO, as MADGE comes in, briskly crosses to the desk and turns the recorder on again. During the rest of this she methodically undresses, winding up in the shapeless robe again, her air throughout one of business as usual.
PLUTO’S VOICE
I can’t get you off personally, but I can bring all my resources to bear. Three times, if necessary. That’s the terms of the agreement.
SOPHIE’S VOICE
And in return you get my immortal soul.
PLUTO’S VOICE
That and nothing more.
SOPHIE’S VOICE
I was never even sure I had a soul.
PLUTO’S VOICE
It’s just a carry-over from the days when people needed them. Like the appendix. The way human life has evolved over the years, the soul really isn’t important You don’t use it . . .
SOPHIE’S VOICE
If you don’t use it, you gotta lose it.
PLUTO’S VOICE
Exactly. (The tape spins in silence, with MADGE and PLUTO drumming their fingers impatiently, waiting in suspense.)
SOPHIE’S VOICE
Oh, hell. I’m probably damned anyway . . . And if all the sex is Hell’s department, what’s left for heaven? (SOUND of her signing the paper.)
PLUTO’S VOICE
You won’t regret this, Sophie.
SOPHIE’S VOICE
I guess not. (Two beats.) You didn’t answer my question. What’s left for Heaven if Hell gets all the sex?
PLUTO’S VOICE
Oh, nothing much . . . Just all the love.
101. The camera has come in close for MADGE’S reaction to this last line of PLUTO’S. A grand sigh, and then she reaches to shut off the recorder.
MADGE
Signed and countersigned. Good job. (She studies the document.)
102. Two-shot favoring MADGE.
MADGE
Wait a minute. This is just an option agreement.
PLUTO
I know.
MADGE
Something new?
PLUTO
It’s the latest thing the boys in Legal have dreamed up. A contract’s only valid if it’s equally binding upon both parties. Thus we have to fulfill our promise to satisfy Sophie sexually or the rights to her soul revert to her. I don’t pretend to understand all the whereases and thereinafters but it’ll hold up this way.
MADGE
Of course it will. We’ve got the best damned legal department in existence. But they keep switching things around.
103. Close-up PLUTO POV MADGE.
PLUTO
It’s the same all o
ver Hell. It’s just too crowded. Too cumbersome. The red tape you have to go through—
104. Close-up MADGE POV PLUTO.
MADGE
—Filling out fifteen forms to requisition a few pounds of brimstone—
105. Close-up PLUTO POV MADGE.
PLUTO
—Going through a dozen channels for permission to strike a match—
106. Dolly and pan to a two-shot.
MADGE
—All this bureaucracy. Well, honey, what can you expect? When you wind up with every lawyer who ever lived, and every thieving politician, and every pen-pushing government hack, what do you expect? I don’t want to keep you. You’ve got the devil’s own job ahead of you, getting that old bag’s rocks off.
PLUTO
Don’t I know it. (He stands up and gathers his papers, closes his attaché case. Then he walks over to the roaring fire which we have seen a lot of but which I forgot to mention earlier. He snaps his fingers. There is a small explosion, more like a wheeze. He frowns and snaps his fingers again, same result.)
MADGE
Let me do it, honey. (She puts her hands alongside her breasts. We do a quick zoom to get tight on her breasts. We see nothing but them with her two hands alongside them. She snaps her fingers and there is an enormous explosion, thunder, lightning, etc.)
107. Wide shot of the room, PLUTO has disappeared.
108. Montage of New York By Night: PLUTO and SOPHIE getting in and out of cabs, walking in and out of nightclubs, lots of establishing shots, maybe a pan of Eighth Avenue hookers and massage parlors from a car window, etc.
109. Interior shot of a crowded East Side type singles bar. Camera starts on someone at the bar laughing. All beautiful people at the bar. Pan along the bar and then zoom in toward the rear where we see PLUTO and SOPHIE talking at a table.
110. Two-shot favoring PLUTO.
PLUTO
. . . computer printout of possible studs for you. The only thing . . .
SOPHIE
(Interrupting.) Wait a minute. You’ve got computers in Hell?
PLUTO
Where else would computers go when they die?
SOPHIE
It figures.
PLUTO
Thing is, they don’t work any better for us than they do on earth. One of our technicians fed in all our data on you and came up with—
SOPHIE
Casanova? Don Juan?
111. Close-up PLUTO POV SOPHIE.
PLUTO
No, just twenty-four thousand invitations to renew his subscription to Life Magazine.
112. Shot of SOPHIE reacting. Pan and dolly to reestablish two-shot. She spills her drink all over her tits. PLUTO does a The-Moon-Is-Blue thing with a napkin, reaching to wipe it off, then pulling his hand back.