Alexander's Ragtime Band Page #2

It's Roger again.

I have nothing to say to him.

I'm very sorry, Roger.

She won't talk to you.

All right. Thank you, Martha.

Good night.

Alexander! Hey!

- You, Alexander!

- Yes?

Thank you. Professor Heinrich!

- So your name's Alexander now?

- Yes, that's right.

Uh, won't you come in and...

sit down and have a glass of beer?

Not tonight.

I just want to know

if you're really serious about all this.

Oh, yes. Very.

But Roger, you spent your whole life

preparing yourself for something fine.

How can you throw it all away on this...

this ragtime?

But I like ragtime. I believe in it.

And besides, I have

what I've always wanted: a band.

Won't you stay and listen?

See for yourself.

No. You know your own mind.

You always have.

- Good night.

- Good night, Professor.

Hey, come on, come on!

Let's have a little life around here.

- Bring on that girl.

- Right away.

- Who is it?

- It's me.

- What do you want?

- I want to see how you look.

Oh, I look swell.

- Do you mind if I see for myself?

- No, come on in. What do I care?

It cost me my last dime.

- Very nice.

- Oh, thanks, Mr. Astorbilt.

But you know, you shouldn't try to cover

up your lovely throat with those feathers.

- Hey, wait a minute.

- Oh, and look at those flowers.

You don't really need those.

That's just gilding the lily.

Oh-oh.

And look at those ruffles. Now, that might

be all right for some skinny little girl,

but not for a girl

with a gorgeous figure like yours.

- There. Now, see what I mean?

- Hey, wait a minute!

Oh, and the very idea

of trying to cover up that beautiful hair!

- There, now.

- Why, you two-by-four snob!

Look what you've done.

You've ruined my dress.

Now, listen to me. You're not

dressing for your sailor friends now.

This isn't Dirty Eddie's.

I'm trying to build a band with class and

distinction, and I'm beginning right now.

Oh, so you're a know-it-all

about women's clothes too?

Well, let me tell you something.

I know how to dress myself and you or

nobody else is gonna tell me what to wear.

Understand?!

You're not going up there looking like

a comic valentine. And stop shouting!

I'll go out the way I want to

or I won't go out at all!

- All right! That suits me too.

- Well, it's good enough for me.

Pickleface is throwing a fit out there.

We'd better hop to it.

- Are you ready, Stella?

- I'm not going.

- Oh, now, Stella...

- Oh, let her go, and good riddance.

I don't want a woman with the band

anyway. Come on, Charlie.

Oh, what a sap I was to let you

talk me into this thing in the first place.

Oh, I knew how it would end

with that conceited...

Well, I'm surprised at you, letting him get

your goat. He didn't mean anything by it.

He was just a little excited tonight-

new place, a couple of new boys.

- You can't let us down now.

- There you go, sticking up for him again.

Why, look where he threw my flowers.

I should have slapped his ears down.

You can do that tomorrow.

You've gotta sing now.

Pulling out my feathers,

and giving me all that baloney

about my neck and my figure and my hair.

- Why, I'll see him dead first.

- You're absolutely right.

Don't sing for him. Sing for me.

Why, you dirty dog. Taking advantage

of my sweet nature, huh?

That's a girl, Stella.

Just remember the Three Musketeers.

All for one..

Yeah, and that one a pain in the neck.

Yeah, and that one a pain in the neck.

Three Musketeers, my...

my foot.

Ah! There you are, my tender little dove.

We were just coming to call on you.

- Well, I'm in a hurry.

- Stop being a stubborn, ornery female.

You and the maestro

are gonna get acquainted.

Say, I know all I wanna know about him.

And no back talk.

Get in there, the both of you.

Take those chips off your shoulders.

You're both all right if you don't

expect too much. And remember,

I'm staying right outside the door here,

and if I hear any yelling or screaming,

I'm coming back in here

and knock your heads together.

Well?

You and I have

entirely different points of view, Stella.

But we are grown-up.

I don't see why, with a little

common sense, we can't work together.

A simple business arrangement.

Listen. You're out to

set the world on fire.

You're all hopped up with the idea

that you've got something to give

and you're gonna do it or bust.

Well, that's your business. All I want

is a job, and one job's as good as another.

As long as I can pay my own way,

and you leave me alone.

You have a great voice.

And a great future too.

If you'd only realize your possibilities

and try to make something of them.

Say, I'm doin' all right.

I am what I am,

and I'm not gonna let you make me over

into something else just to fit your plans.

I guess I have been unreasonable,

only seeing my side of it.

But all this means so much to me.

This music, having my own band.

Whether we like it or not, we're together.

We couldn't have gotten

this job without you,

and you probably couldn't have

gotten it without us.

So doesn't it seem sensible that we should

try to meet each other halfway?

Well, it's all right with me.

Well, now! You see how easy it is.

Something tells me

I'm sticking my head in a noose.

Come on!

- Good afternoon, Miss Kirby.

- Good morning.

Good afternoon, Miss Kirby.

Good afternoon.

Oh, hello.

My, you look pretty.

Another new outfit?

Mm-hm.

But I think it's a little too loud.

It makes me feel like a stop sign.

I wonder if you realize how much

you've changed in the last few months?

What do you mean, "changed"?

Just because I pay more for my clothes

and let my hair go natural?

Well, that may be part of it.

Oh, you mean I'm getting to be a lady.

More refined and agreeable.

You're wrong. I'm just doing it

to save myself a lot of arguments.

Oh, sure.

You're the same stubborn witch.

You wear these good-looking clothes

just for business reasons.

It burns you up to get prettier every day.

It'd just about break your heart

if anybody told you you were

blossoming into the most beautiful,

- the most charming...

- Why, I'd call him a liar to his teeth.

What's that?

Just a little hit tune

I've been working on.

- You mean you wrote it yourself?

- Mm-hm.

- Do you like it?

- Like it?

- Why, it's great! It's got everything.

- Oh, take it easy.

No, on the level.

Imagine you having that in you.

Why, it'll make you famous.

I wrote it for you, Stella.

If it's any good, that's why.

Oh, thank you, Charlie.

I'd love to sing it.

Has, uh... His Highness heard it yet?

Nobody's heard it... but you.

Well, say, this is too good to keep.

- Come on.

- Wait a minute.

Stella.

Oh, come on.

What would the waiters think?

All right, fellas. Let's try

that introduction now without the brass.

Alec! Alec, look. Charlie's just

written a swell new song for me.

What? Holding out on me, huh?

Oh, it's nothing. Probably won't

sell more than two million copies.

- Well, let's hear it.

- All right.

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