Invasion of the Body Snatchers Page #2

and that I suggested

the boy spend the night...

at his grandmother's house.

Hello, Miles.

Nice to see you, Wilma.

Becky.

Let's have it.

You talked to him.

What do you think?

It's him.

He's your Uncle Ira, all right.

He is not.

How is he different?

That's just it.

There is no difference

you can actually see.

He looks, sounds, acts,

and remembers...

like Uncle Ira.

Then he is your Uncle Ira.

You see that?

No matter how you feel, he is.

But he isn't.

There's something missing.

He's been a father to me

since I was a baby.

Always when he talked to me...

there was a special look

in his eye.

That look's gone.

What about memories?

There must be certain things...

that only you and he

would know about.

There are.

I've talked to him about them.

He remembers them all...

down to the last small detail,

just like Uncle Ira would.

But, Miles...

there's no emotion.

None!

Just the pretense of it.

The words, gesture,

the tone of voice...

everything else is the same,

but not the feeling.

Memories or not,

he isn't my Uncle Ira.

Wilma, I'm on your side.

My business

is people in trouble...

and I'm going to find

a way to help you.

No one could possibly

impersonate your Uncle Ira...

without you

or your Aunt Eleda or even me...

seeing a million

little differences.

I want you to realize that.

Think about it,

and then you'll know...

that the trouble is inside you.

Wilma, where are you?

Out on the lawn.

Say nothing to her.

Why, Miles,

I didn't know you were here.

Welcome home.

Hello, Mrs. Lentz.

Did you ask Miles

to stay for dinner?

Can't tonight.

I'm making spoon bread.

Please, don't tempt me.

Maybe next time.

Wilma, where are my glasses?

I think

they're on the mantelpiece.

I'll go with you.

Am I going crazy?

Don't spare me.

I've got to know.

No, you're not.

Even these days...

it isn't as easy to go crazy

as you might think.

But you don't have to be

losing your mind...

to need psychiatric help.

I'd like you to see

a doctor friend of mine.

-A psychiatrist?

-Dan Kauffman.

I'll make an appointment

for you tomorrow.

All right.

But it's a waste of time.

There's nothing wrong with me.

Better break this up,

or he'll start wondering.

Wondering what?

If I don't suspect.

You've been a big help...

and I don't want either of you

to worry about me.

I'll be all right.

Sure you will.

Staying here, Becky?

Or may I drive you home?

Would you like me to stay?

Of course not.

Good night.

Good night.

Nice having Becky

back again, eh, boy?

Sure is.

In the back of my mind...

a warning bell was ringing.

Sick people

who couldn't wait to see me...

then suddenly

were perfectly all right.

A boy claiming

his mother wasn't his mother.

A woman claiming her uncle

wasn't her uncle.

But I didn't listen.

Obviously, the boy's mother

was his mother.

I had seen her.

And Uncle Ira was Uncle Ira.

There was no doubt of that

after I talked to him.

Miles, he is Ira?

Of course he is.

What do you mean?

It's just Wilma's so positive.

Will she be all right?

I think so.

I'm a doctor,

according to my diploma...

but I don't really know

what Wilma's trouble is.

I could start talking

psychiatrical jargon...

but it's out of my line

and in Dan Kauffman's.

I wish you didn't have

to go home for dinner.

I don't.

Dad's eating out with a friend.

I could pick you up

at 7:
00.

Well...

It's summer,

and the moon is full.

"I know a bank...

MILES,

"where the wild thyme grows."

You haven't changed a bit.

Whup! Whoa! Watch out!

Sorry.

Hey, Miles,

when did you get back?

This morning.

How are you, Danny?

This is Miss Driscoll.

Dr. Kauffman--

our one and only psychiatrist.

Watch out what you say.

Ed, you remember Becky.

I should.

I brought her into the world.

You did us all a favor.

This saves me a phone call.

I've got a kid and a woman

who need a witch doctor.

Boy says his father

isn't his father...

and the woman says her sister

isn't her sister?

That's pretty close.

I knew you'd been

studying hypnosis...

but when did you start

reading minds?

He doesn't have to read them.

I've sent him a dozen patients

since it started.

What is it?

What's going on?

I don't know.

A strange neurosis...

evidently contagious--

an epidemic of mass hysteria.

In two weeks,

it's spread all over town.

What causes it?

Worry about

what's going on in the world.

Make room

for Wilma Lentz tomorrow.

Send her in around 2:00.

Good night.

So long, Danny.

This is the oddest thing

I ever heard of.

Let's hope we don't catch it.

I'd hate to wake up

some morning...

and find out you weren't you.

I'm not the high-school

kid you used to romance.

How could you tell?

You really want to know?

Mm-hmm.

Mmm.

You're Becky Driscoll.

Hey, Santa Mira's looking up.

Has ever since you got back.

Is this an example

of your bedside manner, Doctor?

No, ma'am.

That comes later.

Good evening, Doctor.

What happened

to the crowd tonight?

I don't know.

It's been this way for weeks.

At least we don't

have to wait for a table.

Take your pick.

Here or here.

Here, I think.

Shall we?

Mm-hmm.

Where's the band?

Business slumped,

so I had to let them go.

There's the jukebox, though.

Shall we dance?

I hope you didn't

let the bartender go.

I'm the bartender.

Martinis?

Two. Dry.

Very dry.

Miles, I don't care

what Dr. Kauffman says.

I'm worried.

You are in the capable hands...

of your personal physician.

Oh, Doctor.

Ah, there's our evening.

Sorry.

Thanks.

Dr. Bennell.

Jack Belicec wants you

to come to his house right away.

He says it's urgent.

Thank you.

Better hold those drinks.

Emergency.

At least they called

before we ordered dinner.

How hungry are you?

I can wait.

It may be a while.

I'll go with you.

Sorry.

We'll be back later.

There's Jack.

What's the matter?

Teddy sick?

No.

Thank heaven.

I thought you'd never arrive.

Then who is sick?

Nobody.

Then why'd you

drag me away from my dinner?

You won't believe it

until you see it.

Hello, Becky.

-Hello, Becky.

-Hi, Teddy.

Could you forget

you're a doctor a while?

Why?

I don't want you

calling the police.

Quit acting like a writer.

Maybe you can tell me.

You're the doctor.

Miles, put the light on

over the pool table.

Go on. Pull it down.

What do you make of it?

Who is he?

I have no idea.

Its face, Miles.

It's vague.

Like the first impression

that's stamped on a coin.

It isn't finished.

You're right.

All the features

but no details...

no character, no lines.

It's no dead man.

Have you got

an ink pad around the house?

There's one in the desk.

Why?

I want to take

the corpse's fingerprints.

Of course

it's a dead man.

I don't know,

but I've got a feeling that...

I know this sounds crazy,

but if I should do an autopsy...

I think I'd find every organ

in perfect condition...

as perfect

as the body is externally...

everything in working order.

All set to go. Hold that down.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes