A Hard Day's Night Page #11

CUSTOMER:

Oh I don't know, looks rather clean

to me.

The MANAGER comes to grandfather's side.

MANAGER:

Play is about to resume, m'lord.

GRANDFATHER:

(handing him a chip)

Lead me to it, I've a winning itch

that only success can pacify.

He takes his place at the table. The MANAGER watches for a

moment then moves away from the table towards the club

reception desk.

INTERIOR RECEPTION DESK BOYD'S CLUB

JOHN, PAUL, GEORGE, RINGO, NORM and SHAKE are trying to gain

entrance.

ATTENDANT:

I'm sorry sir, members and invited

guests only.

PAUL, GEORGE, RINGO, JOHN

I've got to get in.

It's urgent and important.

I've had an invite.

Take me to your leader.

NORM:

Shurrup.

The BOYS do and meanwhile the MANAGER has walked into SHOT.

He recognises the BOYS and welcomes them with false

enthusiasm. They all start to enter the main room.

NORM:

All we want to know is have you got

a little old man in there?

MANAGER:

(pleasantly)

Do you mean Lord McCartney?

CLOSE-UP PAUL

PAUL:

He's at it again. Look, I'm his

grandfather... I mean...

BLONDE:

(standing next to

Grandfather)

Oh, it must be the dolly floor show.

JOHN:

Stay where you are everybody this is

a raid and we want him.

GRANDFATHER:

Who are these ruffians?... I've never

seen them before in my life!...

(etc.)

They grab the protesting GRANDFATHER and drag him into the

reception area. He keeps trying to return to BLONDE and table.

GEORGE and RINGO each take an end of the velvet cord hanging

between the two stanchions.

They exchange ends and re-hook it, thus encircling GRANDFATHER

by the entrance desk. They then go to settle up.

MANAGER:

(with false charm)

Before you go, gentlemen, there's

the small matter of the bill.

He snaps his fingers and a waiter hands him the bill.

NORM:

(taking it)

I'll settle that.

He glances at it.

NORM:

A hundred and eighty pounds!

MANAGER:

(icily)

I beg your pardon, guineas.

At that moment a WAITER appears with a tray full of pound

notes.

WAITER:

Your winnings, my lord, one hundred

and ninety pounds.

The MANAGER tears up the bill and takes the money.

GRANDFATHER:

How about me change?

MANAGER:

Cloak room charge.

He hands GRANDFATHER his old mackintosh.

RINGO:

(brightly)

Ah well, easy come, easy go.

The others glower at him.

RINGO:

Well.

INTERIOR BIG CAR (MOVING ON WAY TO STUDIOS)

The BOYS have settled down.

JOHN:

Should I say it?

GEORGE:

Follow your impulse.

RINGO:

It'll only get you into trouble.

JOHN:

(to RINGO)

Aah, shurrup, misery!

JOHN slouches forward.

JOHN:

(urgently)

O.K. Driver, follow that car!!

The driver [Frank] is an urbane young man in a handsome grey

uniform.

FRANK:

(indicating the traffic)

Would you like to be a little more

precise, sir?

JOHN:

Well, that's the wrong line for a

start.

FRANK:

Sorry?

(meaning:
"I beg your

pardon.")

GEORGE:

Oh, don't pay any attention to him,

he was just fulfilling a lifelong

ambition.

FRANK:

I see.

JOHN:

Yeah, you know, "O.K. Buster, follow

that car, there's a sawbuck in it

for you if you get real close!"

FRANK:

Oh, yes, now I'm with you.

([he changes his

accent])

But, gee, Mister, I've got my license

to think of... we're doing a hundred

now...

The car is stopped in traffic behind a bus. JOHN gets out of

car and walks to the front. JOHN leans in window delightedly,

he flashes his wallet.

JOHN:

Ever seen one of these before?

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