Boom Page #3
- PG
- Year:
- 1968
- 110 min
- 812 Views
his sleeping trick on me!
Now, be quiet. Shhh!
Breathing and pulse, normal.
Good color.
Seems to be sleeping naturally.
What the hell is that?
Many years ago I had a call
in New Orleans,
a particularly elegant gentleman
know as 'Cher'.
who would never go out in the
evening without
a little vinaigrette like this
filled with ammonia.
And whenever he saw a girl
approaching along the sidewalk,
He would cry, "Poisson, poisson",
means fish, you know, dear,
and hold the little cut glass
decanter to his nostrils
until the girl had passed by.
Be that as it may, I've always
found girls to be fragrant...
in any phase of the moon.
Pronto, dica.
Sicily? I didn't place any
phone call to Sicily.
How do you like that? He's making
long distance-telephone calls.
And what's that - a tray of food.
If there's anything I can't stand,
it's a houseguest,
especially one who hasn't been invited,
you views your house like a hotel,
charging long distance
telephone calls,
calling up room service.
Pain... awful...
Injection.
Oh... oh, God!
Yoohoooo - Sissie...
Sissie! Yoohoo...
Chris...
Chris, Chris...
Where were you?
Sissie! She's disappeared!
She's left me, she's lost.
Woo-woooo
You're drunk.
Woo-woooo!
I don't understand bird language.
No, don't go out. Don't go, stay!
Pain gone till tomorrow...
Hello?
You still prowling around here?
Well, I... I just woke up hungry.
What're you hungry for, huh?
You want some of this?
You hungry for this?
How does that feel, does that
feel good on your stomach,
- you want some more of that, do you?
- What's going on here?
Oh, he's got the dry heaves, Blackie...
He's Mrs. Goforth's guest, you drunk
gorilla, now get off the terrace!
Mr. Flanders, what happened?
Thank you.
I'm lucky that you were...
not asleep.
I don't sleep much this summer.
I couldn't find any clothes when I
woke up, so I put on this strange robe.
I think I'll take off this sword.
I would keep the sword on
at all times while you're here.
Don't I, uh, don't I look frightening?
- No, but...
- You look frightened.
Last spring I lost my husband.
What are you...?
It's wrong? I'm going to do
two simple things for you:
First I'm going to put this picture
of your husband in the drawer,
and I'm going to put away
your sleeping pills.
In the drawer.
Now... one more thing:
I think you're taking unfair
advantage of...
Of a... chance situation?
Yes, and you're using...
Tricks?
Wrong.
Wrong.
Wrong.
No, right!
Blackie!
Oh, it's her!
She wants to give me dictation.
I can't. Yes?
Yes, Mrs. Goforth.
It's night. Late at night.
Yes, it's late Mrs. Goforth.
Don't answer me, this is dictation!
Don't interrupt me.
This is clear as a vision.
The death of Harlon Goforth.
Remembered, just now, clearly.
Clear as a vision.
It's night. Late, late night.
Without sleep. And I, scarcely
more than a child,
am in bed with the great
Harlon Goforth,
whose name I still carry after
five later marriages.
The great Goforth,
king of munitions, a gentleman.
A warlord who monarchs and presidents
place next to their wives at banquets.
In bed... all dignity gone.
A powerless thing without shame.
Now... he mounts me again.
He's crushing me under the
awful weight of his body.
He mounts me again.
He's trying to make love,
he never could.
He stops suddenly now.
He whispers, "Baby, I have a pain.
I have a terrible pain in my head. "
Silently I say to myself,
"Oh, thank God",
but aloud I say, "Tablets?
You want... you want tablets?"
Harlon. What is it, Harlon?
He answers me with a grunt,
with a groan.
I look at Harlon. I see
death in his eyes.
I see, I know...
He has death in his eyes,
but he has something worse in them:
Terror! He has terror in his eyes!
I see it. I feel it myself.
I get out of the bed.
I get out of the bed as if
escaping from quicksand.
I don't look at him any more!
I move... I move away from the bed.
I move from the bed.
I move from death! Terror!
I leave him with, It's him, it's him!
It's not...
I go straight to the door.
To the door, yes.
Wanting escape. The door...
It's closed!
I can't open it!
death, his...
I've got out!
I've got out now.
I'm on the terrace, 25 stories high,
above the high, high city of Goforth.
I see lights blazing below the
high, high city,
but there's not a light
blazing, no, not one,
not a light blazing as bright as
the terror in his eyes!
Ohh, wind... cool wind, clean.
Release! Relief!
Escape after the night after night
weight of the impotent...
crushing me, weight of the...
dead? No.
Behind me now...
body of Goforth! Goforth!
- Goforth! Die!
- Mrs. Goforth!
Don't move!
I'm lost, I'm blind!
I'm dying.
Oh, Blackie, don't leave me alone!
Don't leave me alone!
Blackie, don't leave me alone.
Still here?
The air's turned cold.
Church bells are waking up.
Yes.
Taking off my sword.
Everything you say or do
is like you're playing a game.
Games can be honestly played.
Hot sun, cool breeze,
white horses on the sea,
and a big shot of vitamin B in me.
Now- I want to begin this chapter
on a more serious note:
The meaning of life.
Pictures now?
What's he pushing that thing
out here for?
Looks like a baby buggy for
a baby from Mars.
It's just a portable X-ray machine
that your doctor in Rome sent here,
to spare you the trouble of going
back there for another examination.
Examination for what?
Later. A little later.
Leave that here!
And get your fat ass and your
sneaky grin off this terrace!
Out!
Down! Go!
Shall we call it a day?
Hurry up.
Begin!
Continue dictation.
Meaning of life.
Monkey off balcony! Remove it!
Breakfast?
There's nothing out here but
black coffee and saccharin tablets.
But soon as I get a chance,
I'll raid the kitchen for you.
Sooner or later, a person's obliged
to face the meaning of life.
Dictation?
No, no. Reflection.
I'll raise my hand when I
begin dictation.
I've often wondered about...
wondered more, lately...
what the hell are we doing?
Just going from one goddamed
frantic distraction to another.
Tell finally one too many goddamed
frantic distractions lead to...
disaster!
Blackout.
Eclipse of,
total of, total... sun?
There's a fog coming in. Do you see
that over there, that fog coming in?
Why, no. It's perfectly clear
in all direction today.
Excuse me.
Blackie, will you kindly
or unkindly...
Yes, immediately!
Meaning of life, what is it?
Oh, ho... no wonder.
- Banzai, samurai.
- You're the kindest person I've ever met.
Yeah.
Er, sorry, I seem to have disturbed
you in your work.
This day's work is shot to hell!
Blackie, what's the matter with you?
Manners. I have them too.
Yeah. I guess they're epidemic.
Blackie?
You've had the pleasure of meeting
this gentleman. I haven't.
Blackie, will you introduce me to him?
I was hoping you'd remember
our meeting, Mrs. Goforth,
- I'm Christopher Flanders.
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"Boom" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 22 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/boom_4488>.
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