A New Kind of Love Page #2

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Because next Wednesday,

you're leaving for our office in Paris.

Paris?

Where you'll probably,

l hope, kill yourself.

Oh, yeah, but what

a wonderful way to go.

Oh, listen, about your wife,

l'm really sorry.

lf there's anything l can do...

You've done it.

Yeah, l guess so.

Welcome aboard

Scandinavian Airlines Flight 45,

from New York to Paris.

We are now serving snacks,

and dinner will be along shortly.

''As your magic-carpet jet speeds you

to romantic la belle France--''

That's pronounced ''France.''

''The land that was made for love.''

Okay, melding a round house,

that's 240, makes 500.

- You owe me another ten bucks.

- La belle France,

the land that was made for pinochle.

Your deal, Sam.

This time l'll knock your brains out.

You know, if l had a son,

he would've been just like her.

But he'd have combed his hair.

Okay, your lead.

This time you'll lose your shirt.

ls that so? l'll murder you.

l'll marbleize you.

You know, l got an idea. lf Lindbergh

could have looked into the future,

that lonely dawn in 1 92 7...

...he'd have said the hell with it.

This is your copilot. We are sorry

that there is nothing interesting

for you to look at at this altitude.

But our stewardess will do whatever

they can to keep you happy.

ls there something l can give you?

- Do you have a quill pen?

- Quill pen?

Yes, l was thinking of writing

a letter home to Mummy.

No, l don't think so.

Perhaps after we serve dinner.

Sjutusen sjuhundra sjuttiosju.

- What?

- That's 7,7 7 7 in Swedish.

l've been waiting eight years

to work that into a conversation.

Well, your accent is terrible. And l'm

Danish, not Swedish. Excuse me.

- What's for dinner?

- Pt foie gras truff, to start.

What's that?

Chopped liver,

like your mother couldn't make.

lt's from a goose they feed 1 2 times

a day and don't let it get any exercise.

My brother-in-law, Marvin's father.

l-- Excuse me, l-- l have this

bit of a problem. You see,

l have this delicate stomach,

and l was just wondering

if l could get in here

and prepare my own--

- l'm very sorry, but we're not allowed--

- l don't see why not.

On El Al, they let you cook

your own chicken soup,

and on lots of airlines you can sit

on the stewardess' lap

if you can get the pilots off.

We got one those kooks on board.

Some guy is helping the stewardesses

serve the dinner.

He's probably drunk. l don't know

why they're allowed

to serve liquor at this altitude.

He's not drunk. He's cute.

He's not cute. He's drunk.

Play cards.

No, no, no, no, no.

Your dinner, sir.

- Drunk.

- He's cute.

l... l'm really awfully sorry.

Miss?

What's on this steak?

That's a Manhattan.

We ran out of Scotch. All the other

passengers seem to like it.

Would you mind asking

the stewardess

to bring me something else, please?

And the next time

you're in New York,

l suggest you call El Dorado 5-3598.

That's Alcoholic Anonymous.

You need help.

Yes, sir.

What did he say?

- Shut up and deal.

- Can't blame him.

Good morning.

This is Captain Gustaffson.

We estimate Orly Field, Paris,

in about one hour.

The temperature on the ground

is 5 1 degrees Fahrenheit.

Our altitude now is 39,000 feet,

and our ground speed

approximately 600 miles an hour

as we begin our descent.

We hope you've had a pleasant flight.

But of course, you must

have a toast in champagne

your first moment in France.

At 6:
00 in the morning,

l think l'd prefer orange juice.

Oh, darling, in Paris,

we only have orange juice

when there is a roast duck in it.

- You peasant.

- ln this country,

we've gotta rely on Miss Courbeau

and her buying office

to show us the ropes. Whatever she

says goes, especially champagne.

- My name is Felicienne, Mr. Bergner.

- Oh, beautiful.

Oh, garon, champagne,

s'il vous plait.

- Certainement.

- Oh, Mr. Bergner, look. lsn't it lovely?

Say, that's a nice view over there.

Welcome to la belle France,

Mr. Bergner.

- And hang on to your gold teeth.

- Lina, you're jealous.

Why shouldn't l be? l worked

for that schmo for 1 5 years.

And he still thinks l'm just doing it

for the money.

Maybe l should have walked

into his office a long time ago

and said, ''Mr. Bergner,

we simply must have breakfast.

Prune Danish, quart of champagne.

A poached egg on mink.''

The only trouble with being

middle-aged is it lasts so long.

- Perhaps this will help, madam.

- Oh, thanks a lot.

This isn't exactly a pleasure trip.

lf you really wanna

know the truth, l'm in exile.

The boss' wife.

''Hot Lips'' Hannah?

- Monsieur?

- Scotch?

Well, they're drinking in New York.

Un Scotch et une 7 UP.

Harry, you ever feel

absolutely useless?

Every morning when l get out

of the shower.

Unfortunately,

l got a full-length mirror.

- Yeah, well, at least you face it.

- Who faces?

No, but, l mean, who am l fooling?

l ain't no global thinker.

l'm just a bright boy from Texas

going to write the greatest play

the world ever saw.

l never got past the third page.

l got to page four.

Then my typing finger got tired.

After that l was gonna write

the world's greatest column.

You read it lately? Neither have l.

Then l took up blonds for an excuse.

A new one every week.

Sometimes four, sometimes six.

- You know what that's a sign of?

- Stamina?

No, loneliness. Deep, mixed-up,

cotton-picking loneliness.

Maybe you could teach me

to be lonely too.

Pick a different cotton every week.

l'm telling you, boy,

l gotta get on the stick.

l gotta come up

with something

that's gonna be so far-out that, well,

they'll have to start shining up

the Pulitzer prize and ordering me

back to New York

on a chartered rose petal.

Bon voyage.

Now, you, you've been working here

in Paris. Now, how do you get a...

An interview with somebody

in the French cabinet?

- Or the old boy at the top?

- What's your angle?

l don't know.

Maybe his love life.

Nobody's tried that yet.

That's good. That's very good.

Then you can write your experiences

as the first American to be guillotined.

- Ol.

- Frre Jacques.

l think l'll take you to Lanvin

this afternoon.

Tomorrow to Dior. He's one

of the best. Then St. Laurent--

Oh, you mustn't mention

that you've been to the other houses.

lt's absolutely a civil war. Why,

you have to have passports to get in.

lt's so exciting.

You can dress in leopard

from top to bottom.

And what woman doesn't want to have

a leopard bottom? And Pierre Cardin...

- Who's that?

- l don't know.

Some dame l met in the men's room.

Why not? This is Paris.

Paris isn't the Eiffel Tower...

...the Arc de Triomphe...

...or the Sacr Coeur.

This is Paris.

How'd you like to take

a sightseeing bus around that?

Numro vingt-quatre.

Robe de cocktail. Ombre.

Number 24. Cocktail gown.

Ombr, brown ostrich.

Of course, you could never

sit down in it.

You'd look like you are

sitting on your nest.

- But it is rather charming, isn't it?

- Not to me.

lt reminds me of the two years

l spent as a chicken-plucker.

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