Meet John Doe Page #11

BEANY:

Who's got him?

COLONEL:

The heelots!

CLOSE-UP:
JOHN opens window and leans out.

CLOSE-UP:
Of BEANY. His eyes pop; he's petrified.

MED. SHOT:
JOHN stretches far out of the window, and quickly

bounces back.

JOHN:

Wow!

At the same time BEANY springs to his side and yanks him

back.

BEANY:

Hey, wait a minute! You ain't

supposed to do that till Christmas

Eve! Wanta get me in a jam?

JOHN:

(twinkle in his eye)

If it's gonna get you in a jam,

I'll do you a favor. I won't jump.

He exits to the living room.

INT. LIVING ROOM

FULL SHOT:
As JOHN enters, flicking ashes from his cigar,

grandly, the COLONEL leaves the doorway, still pursuing

his point.

COLONEL:

And when they get you, you got no

more chance than a road-rabbit.

BEANY:

(dogging the COLONEL)

Hey. Who'd you say was gonna get

him?

JOHN:

Say, is this one of those places

where you ring if you want

something?

BEANY:

Yeah. Just use the phone.

The thought of this delights JOHN.

JOHN:

Boy! I've always wanted to do this!

He goes to the phone.

BEANY:

Hey, Doc, look. Look, Doc. Gimme

that again, will yuh? Who's gonna

get him?

COLONEL:

The heelots!

BEANY:

Who are they?

TWO SHOT:
The COLONEL finally levels off on BEANY.

COLONEL:

Listen, sucker, yuh ever been broke?

BEANY:

Sure. Mostly often.

COLONEL:

All right. You're walking along—not

a nickel in your jeans—free as the

wind—nobody bothers you—hundreds

of people pass yuh by in every

line of business—shoes, hats,

automobiles, radio, furniture,

everything. They're all nice,

lovable people, and they let you

alone. Is that right?

CLOSE-UP:
Of BEANY—nodding his head, bewildered.

COLONEL'S VOICE

Then you get hold of some dough,

and what happens?

BEANY instinctively shakes his head.

TWO SHOT:
The COLONEL takes on a sneering expression.

COLONEL:

All those nice, sweet, lovable

people become heelots. A lotta

heels.

(mysterioso)

They begin creeping up on you—trying

to sell you something. They've got

long claws and they get a strangle-

hold on you—and you squirm—and

duck and holler—and you try to

push 'em away—but you haven't got

a chance—they've got you! First

thing you know, you own things. A

car, for instance.

BEANY has been following him, eyes blinking, mouth open.

COLONEL:

Now your whole life is messed up

with more stuff—license fees—and

number plates—and gas and oil—and

taxes and insurance—

CLOSE SHOT:
Of the LUGS at the door. One of them listens

with a half-smile on his face. The other, more goofy, looks

bewildered. He has been listening—and now, slowly rises,

ears cocked, frightened by the harrowing tale. CAMERA

retreats before him—as he slowly walks nearer to BEANY and

the COLONEL. Meantime, we continue to hear the COLONEL'S

voice.

COLONEL'S VOICE

and identification cards—and

letters—and bills—and flat tires—and

dents—and traffic tickets and

motorcycle cops and court rooms—and

lawyers—and fines—

WIDER SHOT:
The LUG steps up directly behind BEANY—and the

two horrified faces are close together—both staring at the

COLONEL.

COLONEL:

And a million and one other things.

And what happens? You're not the

free and happy guy you used to be.

You gotta have money to pay for

all those things—so you go after

what the other feller's got—

(with finality)

And there you are—you're a heelot

yourself!

CLOSE SHOT:
Of the two heads of BEANY and the LUG. They

continue to stare, wide-eyed, at the COLONEL.

WIDER SHOT:
As JOHN approaches the COLONEL.

JOHN:

(smiling)

You win, Colonel. Here's the fifty.

Go on out and get rid of it.

COLONEL:

(as he goes)

You bet I will! As fast as I can!

Gonna get some canned goods—a

fishing rod, and the rest I'm gonna

give away.

ANGELFACE:

(aghast)

Give away?

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