Man on the Moon Page #11

Andy excitedly jumps up and down.

ANDY:

Uh-huh! See, with all these

articles, people think they're

insiders. They see Tony Clifton,

and they say, "Ah, that's really

Andy Kaufman." But that spoils it.

So NOW, Tony denying being me is the

truth! Tony's not me! But maybe he

is! The audience will never know...

(giddy)

They'll think they're laughin' at me

-- but actually I'll be laughin' at

them, because they're wrong and I'm

right!

George is dazed.

GEORGE:

So you've got this big elaborate

joke, which is really only funny to

two people in the universe.

(dry)

You... and you.

ZMUDA:

Sure! But WE think it's kickass!

Now I get to be Tony. I get to dump

the glass of water on someone else's

head!

GEORGE:

(he turns serious)

But what's the POINT? How will any

of this make you the biggest star in

the world?

Hmm. Andy contemplates this.

ANDY:

George... I'm at a stage where the

audience expects me to constantly

shock them. But short of faking my

death, or setting the theater on

fire, I don't know what else to do.

(thoughtful)

'Cause I've always got to be one

step ahead of them.

GEORGE:

But I feel you're extending this

philosophy to real life. It's

obsessive. Nothing's ever on the

level anymore.

A perplexed beat.

ANDY:

George, it never was.

(pause)

Didn't you know that?

CUT TO:

INT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Arnold Schwarzenegger, in his glory days as a body-builder,

on the cover of a magazine. Magazines are everywhere. Body-

building. Women's. Wrestling.

ANDY is sifting through them. Zmuda watches, worried.

ANDY:

Look at this! An evil Russian!

Ooo, here's an evil Nazi -- he likes

to fight dirty! Hey, here's an evil

Japanese guy!

ZMUDA:

What is this, World War Two...?

ANDY:

You know, I always wanted to be a

bad-guy wrestler...

ZMUDA:

No offense, pal, but I just don't

think you're built for it. These he-

men'll kick your ass!! They're

huge!

Andy's face drops. He realizes Zmuda's right.

Beat -- then Andy notices an issue of Sumo Magazine, with a

picture of a wrestler and his cute little fiancée on the

cover. He slowly lifts it up, intrigued.

ANDY:

Maybe I'll pick on someone smaller

than me...!

INT. MERV GRIFFIN SHOW - DAY

CLOSE UP on Andy and Merv Griffin. Andy wears a goofy

wrestling outfit that resembles thermal underwear. He is

shouting like a wrestler.

ANDY:

... And I vow to continue wrestling

until I am BEA TEN, in a three-

minute match, with my shoulders

pinned to the mat!!

MERV:

(nonplussed)

By a woman.

ANDY:

Yes! BY A WOMAN!

(emphatic)

I'm doing this because I feel that a

woman cannot beat a man in

wrestling. Even if they train with

weights... it requires a certain

mental ability --

(a clumsy pause)

And, uh -- I just don't feel they

have that...

The audience MURMURS uncomfortably. Andy laughs and

backpedals.

ANDY (cont'd)

No no! Women are superior in many

ways. When it comes to cooking and

cleaning, washing the potatoes,

scrubbing the carrots, raising the

babies, mopping the floors, they

have it all over men. I believe

that!

An appalled silence.

Merv winces. Some people start BOOING. We can tell Andy is

pleased.

ANDY (cont'd)

But when it comes to wrestling,

forget it! If there's a woman that

can prove me wrong, come up here.

I'll shut my mouth and pay her 500

dollars.

Merv baitingly turns to the crowd.

MERV:

Any... volunteers...?

WIDE:

All the WOMEN'S hands angrily shoot up!

We move through the crowd, finally picking out... a feisty

woman, LYNNE. She mutters, half hateful, half laughing --

LYNNE:

I wanna kill that jerk.

CUT TO:

INT. MERV GRIFFIN SHOW - MINUTES LATER

Andy and Lynne stand in the ring. She scornfully watches

him preen about. Zmuda is in a referee's uniform.

ZMUDA (AS REFEREE)

Will you please shake hands, go to

your corners, and come out

wrestling.

Lynne extends her hand. Andy fakes a shake -- then snidely

refuses and struts away. The crowd HISSES.

DING! It's the bell. The match begins. Lynne barrels at

him, craving a victory, but terribly unprepared for this

experience. Andy immediately grabs her by the legs and

flips her over.

WHUMP! She's down. Andy has trained for this.

Zmuda gets on his knees, watching, trying to look official.

Lynne struggles and slithers away.

She grabs Andy's arm and forces him down. People CHEER.

His torso hits the mat. LOUDER CHEERS. But suddenly he

rolls over and pulls her hair! Her head snaps back. The

crowd is INCENSED. Zmuda hurries over and pantomimes a

stern warning.

Andy nods, and they separate. They do a little dance around

the ring, Lynne looking for a hole. Suddenly, Andy spins

her into a Half-Nelson. Her arms are pinned. They

struggle, then he throws her down on her stomach. One!

Two! Three!

And DING! It's OVER. Andy jumps up and sneers at the

crowd.

ANDY:

I'm the winner! I've got the

BRAINS!

(he points at his

head)

Now baby, don't fight nature! Get

back in the kitchen where you

belong!!!

Lynne glares.

Out of the blue, and old RECORDING OF BOUNCY PIANO MUSIC

starts playing. A chicken CLUCKS to the music, and Andy lip-

syncs along, doing an obnoxious cock o' the walk around the

ring.

INT. MERV GRIFFIN SHOW, BACKSTAGE - LATER THAT DAY

Lynne is escorted by a GUEST COORDINATOR. Lynne is dazed.

The Coordinator hands her a bunch of crap.

GUEST COORDINATOR

Here's your complimentary photo with

Merv. Here's your Turtle Wax --

LYNNE:

I don't need Turtle Wax.

GUEST COORDINATOR

Every guest of Merv gets it. And

here's your dinner-for-two voucher

at Red Lobster.

Lynne takes her junk and hobbles off. She passes Andy, who

sees her and grins.

ANDY:

Gosh, you scored! Look at all those

goodies!

LYNNE:

Buzz off. Go patronize somebody

else.

Lynne coldly hurries away. Andy chases after her.

ANDY:

Hey, I hope you didn't take that

stuff I said seriously. It was just

part of the show!

(eager to impress)

It's like the old days, when a

carnival barker would try to rile up

the crowd.

LYNNE:

Oh. So you were just pretending to

be an a**hole.

Andy nods, pleased.

ANDY:

It's what I'm good at!

Lynne stares -- then begrudgingly cracks a smile.

CUT TO:

INT. GOLD'S GYM - DAY

Jumbo-sized BEEFY MEN work out, sweating and groaning. In a

corner, Andy lifts huge barbells. George stares, pained.

GEORGE:

Merv Griffin has received 2000

pieces of hate mail. Andy, Merv

Griffin doesn't GET hate mail.

ANDY:

That means it was a success. I woke

up the audience -- like punk rock!

(he hands him a

BARBELL)

Here, take this.

GEORGE:

No, I'm not gonna take it. If I

take it I'll break my back.

He crosses his arms. Andy frowns and lowers the weight.

GEORGE (cont'd)

Buddyboy, they detest you! Next

time you make an appearance, women

are gonna picket.

ANDY:

They're having a laugh...

GEORGE:

WRONG! You haven't given them any

clues that it's a parody!

ANDY:

That's because they've only seen it

once. But I'll do it again, and

again, and AGAIN...

(a maniacal grin)

They'll catch on!

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