Gods and Monsters Page #6

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Remember?

I suppose you'd

like the top down.

If that's all right

with you.

Nothing would

please me more.

Oh, good old George.

He loves to put

on the dog.

Slim pickings.

Mind you,

it's early yet.

Perhaps this is a good time for us

to go and pay our respects, hmm?

Thank you.

Thank you for coming.

Charming.

I had no idea

you'd be here.

- How are you?

- Fine.

I'm just fine.

And Your Royal Highness?

Splendid, now that I know

that you're around.

Can we get together

while I'm in town?

- I so badly want to sit

for you again. - Sit?

I've changed my hair, you see,

since our last session.

Those old snaps look

rather dowdy now.

Oh, dear.

Have I made a blunder?

The pleasure is mine.

James Whale.

I am such a goose.

I mistook you for Cecil Beaton.

It's the hat.

You're wearing one of

Cecil's hats, you know.

- George, James Whale.

David Lewis's friend. - Oh.

- I used to make pictures myself, ma'am.

- Yes, of course.

One can't throw a

rock in this town,

without hitting one of

us old movie directors.

Ma'am, may I introduce

Mr. Clayton Boone.

My gardener.

- How do you do? Clay... Clay Boone.

- Quite.

I adore gardens.

He's never met

a princess.

Only queens.

Well, George, ma'am,

this has been an honor,

and one that I shall remember

for the rest of my life.

- Great place.

- Mmm.

Hello.

- What was that all about? - Oh, don't

worry. Nothing of any importance.

Just two old men slapping

each other with lilies.

I'm sorry.

- Who's that?

- David.

- The friend I thought was in New York.

- No, I, I... The girl.

- Oh, it's Elizabeth Taylor.

- Oh, thank you.

Yes, David produced

her last picture.

- What are you doing here? - I was just

going to ask you the same thing.

Thought you were

still in New York.

I was, until last night.

I was going to call.

- David Lewis.

- Hey. Clay Boone.

Our yardman, who's been kind

enough to serve as my escort...

to George's little do.

Should you be drinking

in your condition?

Oh, David, will you

stop being a nanny.

I think I'm gonna go

and get another beer.

You should've seen George's

face when he saw Clayton. Oh!

- You didn't, Jimmy.

- I did.

Mind you, Princess Margaret's

an absolute doll.

Well, we're all equals in her eyes,

as commoners, I presume.

You only

embarrass yourself.

- Oh, dear. I'll never work in this

town again. - You know what I mean.

- Your reputation.

- I have no reputation.

I'm as free as the air.

But the rest of us aren't.

- Can't you remember that?

- No.

I never could.

I suppose you regret

having got me invited here.

I didn't ask George

to invite you.

Oh.

Well, then, who did?

I have people here

I need to speak to.

- You'll be all right on your own?

- Yes, yes, perfectly.

I'll drop by tomorrow

for breakfast.

Oh, yes.

Oh.

Oh, I say.

Thank you very much.

Just the one.

Mr. Whale!

Mr. Whale!

- Mr. Whale.

- Mr. Kay.

Bet you never thought

you'd see me again.

- I didn't know if you'd be well enough

to come to this party. - You didn't?

I'm the one who got you

on Mr. Cukor's guest list.

You, Mr. Kay?

But how do you know

George Cukor?

I interviewed him

after I met you.

I'm his social secretary now.

Well, assistant

to his secretary.

Yes, I commend you.

If you're going to

pursue poofs,

go after those who

can do favors for you.

You just waste everyone's time

when you court dinosaurs.

Don't think like that,

Mr. Whale.

I love your movies.

That's why I wanted you to come,

so I could see you with your monsters.

My monsters?

Don't go away.

- Uh, excuse me. Miss Lanchester, I...

- Yes?

Elsa.

Jimmy!

Elsa.

- How are you?

- Mmm.

I saw Una O'Connor

a few weeks ago.

She said you'd been

under the weather.

Oh, well, nothing out of

the ordinary. Getting old.

Nonsense! Ah, what's our

pesky friend up to now?

Mmm?

Is that Boris?

- Our little chum appears to be

arranging a reunion. - Oh, dear.

- Boris, darling.

- Elsa. Elsa!

And James.

James.

- How good to see you.

- I didn't know you were here.

These public revels are

hardly up your alley.

Actually, I'm here for

the sake of Miranda,

my great-grandniece.

Koochie-koo.

And what do you make

of our royal visitant?

Perfectly charming.

A real lady.

What did you expect,

a hussy in tennis shoes?

Hey, you, with the camera.

We got a historical moment here.

Come, get a picture of it.

This is Mr. James Whale, who made

Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein,

and this... forget the baby a second,

is the Monster...

and his bride.

Oh, Karloff.

Right.

Don't you just love

being famous?

To a new world of

gods and monsters.

- Are you all right, Jimmy?

- Yeah. Yeah.

Got it.

Mr. Whale.

- Are you okay?

- I'm tired. I'm a bit tired.

Are you

enjoying yourself?

No. Actually, I... I feel

a little out of place here.

Well, neither of us

really fits in here.

That must've been funny for you,

seeing your monsters again.

Monsters?

The only monsters are here.

Oh, f***.

We left the top down.

- You wanna run for it?

- "Run for it"?

It's raining.

- Hurry! Hurry!

- Whoo!

Mr. Whale?

Mr. Whale.

Let's get out

of this fuckhole.

You sure you don't

want to wait it out?

We aren't made of sugar.

We won't melt.

"Oh, that this too,

too solid flesh would melt. "

I'm getting you home before you

catch your death of pneumonia.

Catch my death?

Are you okay,

Mr. Whale?

Jimmy, please, hmm?

Call me Jimmy.

Hanna, we need some towels!

We're soaked to the bone!

Oh, blast it.

Well, if we soil your floors,

it's your own bloody fault!

Oh, I don't believe it.

Don't worry, she'll be back.

She just can't say "no" to her daughter.

Well, you certainly have better things

to do than to baby-sit an old man.

I didn't have

anything planned.

Well, go get a shower upstairs and

I'll get you something dry to wear.

Well, what do you think?

Hmm?

Mr. Whale?

Where are those clothes

you promised?

Mr. Whale?

He trusts me, you know.

Mr. Whale?

Jimmy?

Oh, yes.

- Mr. Whale?

- Huh?

Yes, of course, uh, Clayton.

Do come in.

Now, I promised to get you some dry

clothes. The trouble is, you're so large.

You wouldn't want to attempt

to get into my pants.

- Uh, no. Definitely not.

- Very good, Clayton.

Now...

Oh, I know!

This... This absolutely

swims on me,

so that should deal

with your upper half.

And now we just need to deal

with the rest, don't we?

- Do you have any baggy shorts

or pajama bottoms? - Uh, no.

I'm sorry. Uh, my pajamas

are all tailored.

Would it be too distressing for

you to continue with that towel?

It's hardly more immodest

than a kilt, you know.

- Yes? How very sporting of you, Clayton.

- Say, is this, um, the...

Yes, it's the only

memento I ever kept.

My original sketch

for the Monster.

- Uh, shall we?

- Yeah.

When we've finished eating, if Hanna's

not back, shall we try a few more sketches?

I thought you'd given

up on my drawing.

Yeah, but I'd like

to try again.

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