American Madness

FADE IN:

EXT. BUILDING - DAY - LONG SHOT

Of a large, impressive-looking building on the corner of a

busy, New York business street.

LAP DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. BUILDING - DAY - CLOSE SHOT

A dignified brass plate sign on the side of the building,

reading:
UNION NATIONAL BANK.

LAP DISSOLVE TO:

INT. FOYER OF BUILDING - MED. SHOT

Lower portion of high bronze doors, one side of which is

partly opened. Sitting in front of the closed side is a

uniformed officer, greeting, ad lib, the various employees

as they enter.

LAP DISSOLVE TO:

INT. OF BANK - CLOSEUP

Of a cover being yanked off an adding machine.

CUT TO:

CLOSE SHOT AT SWITCHBOARD

A telephone operator, busily plugging in wires.

OPERATOR:

(mechanically sweet

voice)

Good morning . . . Union National

Bank . . . Just a minute—

LAP DISSOLVE TO:

INT. ENTRANCE ROOM TO VAULTS - MED. SHOT

Of the inside of a massive vault door, made impressive by

the shining, finely cut steel bolts and the many other

intricate-looking instruments which adorn it.

CAMERA PANS UP to a clock overhead which registers 9:03.

A group of young men, paying tellers, are impatiently

watching a teller struggle with the lock that will admit

them to the vault.

TELLER:

Come on, come on, Oscar, what are

we waiting for?

2ND TELLER

What's the matter? Can't you find

it?

3RD TELLER

Sneak up on it, boy!

4TH TELLER

Oscar, come on!

CHARLIE:

Say, if it had lipstick on it,

he'd find it!

They all laugh, as Oscar finds the combination.

OSCAR:

Almonds to you![1] Almonds!

TELLERS:

Now, now, Oscar - not almonds!

The CAMERA MOVES WITH THEM as they pass through the first

portal.

CHARLIE:

Nine o'clock and all is lousy!

1ST TELLER

Yes, I spend half of my life waiting

for these time clocks to open.

Say, where's Matt?

CHARLIE:

Probably upstairs thinking up that

daily joke.

2ND TELLER

That guy kills me with his

wisecracks.

3RD TELLER

Say, when he comes in, let's put

on a frozen face. Let's not smile.

They ad-lib agreement.

1ST TELLER

Shhh! Nix! Here he comes—

7. MED. SHOT

CAMERA PICKS UP Matt Brown, the chief teller, as he strides

briskly in and begins turning the combination dial to the

main vault. He is about twenty-six, a clean-looking,

personable youngster. Several of the tellers are standing

close to him, looking on.

MATT:

How are you doing slaves?

TELLERS:

Hello, Matt. How're you Matt?

Matt begins to work the combination of the main lock.

MATT:

(with his back to

them)

Say, did you boys ever hear the

story of the pawnbroker with the

glass eye?

1ST TELLER

No Matt, what is the story about

the pawnbroker with the glass eye?

MATT:

(as he continues to

fiddle with the

lock)

Well, I'll tell you. A fellow went

into this shop to pawn his watch.

The pawnbroker said, "I'll give

you $50 for it, if you can tell me

which is my glass eye." The fellow

said, "All right, I'll do that.

It's the right one." The pawnbroker

said, "That's correct. But how did

you know it was the right one?"

The fellow said, "well, it's got

more sympathy than the other one."

He turns, expecting their laugh, but is confronted by stone

faces.

MATT:

Sympathy! You know, the right one

had more sympathy than the other

one!

1ST TELLER

What's the matter? Can't you get

this thing open?

Matt stares in disbelief, then gets the joke.

MATT:

(contemptuously)

Six reasons why banks fail!

This cracks them all up, as a uniformed officer, who has

been standing by, works a lever attached to the floor,

which lowers a section of the floor, directly in front of

the vault. This permits the vault door, which is sunk below

the floor level, to swing open.

TELLERS:

(ad-libbing)

I love your jokes, Matt! They're

so entertaining! A very funny man!

8. MED. SHOT

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