Meet John Doe Page #2

JOE:

Did you get it, too?

ANN:

Yeah. You, too? Oh, Joe . . . oh,

I'm sorry darling . . . why don't

we tear the building down!

JOE:

Before you do, Ann, perhaps you'd

better finish this column.

ANN:

Yeah. Lavender and old lace!

Suddenly she stops pacing. Her eyes widen as a fiendish

idea strikes her.

ANN:

Wait, Joe—wait!

She flops down in front of her typewriter.

ANN:

(muttering)

Wants fireworks, huh? Okay!

She begins to pound furiously, her jaw set.

CLOSE-UP:
Of ANN. Eyes flashing as she types.

CLOSE-UP:
Of JOE, watching her. The wild look in her eye

and the unnatural speed of her typing causes him to stare

dumbly at her.

MED. SHOT:
ANN bangs away madly. Finally she finishes. She

whips the sheet out of the typewriter, hands it to JOE.

ANN:

Here.

As JOE takes it, ANN begins to empty the drawers of her

desk.

CLOSE-UP:
Of JOE reading what ANN has written.

JOE:

(reading)

"Below is a letter which reached

my desk this morning. It's a

commentary on what we laughingly

call the civilized world. 'Dear

Miss Mitchell:
Four years ago I

was fired out of my job. Since

then I haven't been able to get

another one. At first I was sore

at the state administration because

it's on account of the slimy

politics here we have all this

unemployment. But in looking around,

it seems the whole world's going

to pot, so in protest I'm going to

commit suicide by jumping off the

City Hall roof!' Signed, A disgusted

American citizen, John Doe.'"

JOE pauses to absorb this.

JOE:

(continues reading)

"Editor's note . . . If you ask

this column, the wrong people are

jumping off roofs."

JOE glances up toward ANN, in mild protest.

JOE:

Hey, Ann, this is the old fakeroo,

isn't it?

FULL SHOT:
ANN has just about accumulated all her things.

JOE stares at her, knowing it's a fake.

ANN:

Never mind that, Joe. Go ahead.

JOE shrugs, shakes his head, and exits. ANN stuffs her

things under her arm and also goes.

INT. OUTER OFFICE

MED. SHOT:
Voices ad lib—"Awfully sorry you're not going."

"Good-bye." (Laughing)

ANN comes out. Suddenly, she stops, gets another idea,

picks up a book from a desk, and reaches back to heave it.

MED. SHOT:
At CONNELL's office door. The sign-painter has

just finished CONNELL's name, and as he leans back, pleased,

wiping his brushes, the book flies in. The painter lifts

his head slowly, his wrath too great to find utterance.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. GOVERNOR JACKSON'S OFFICE

CLOSE-UP:
Of two of GOVERNOR'S ASSOCIATES.

MAN:

(reading newspaper)

" . . . and it's because of the

slimy politics that we have all

this unemployment here."

(agitated)

There it is! That's D. B. Norton's

opening attack on the Governor!

2ND MAN

Why Jim, it's just a letter sent

in to a column.

JIM:

No, no. I can smell it. That's

Norton!

While he speaks, the GOVERNOR has entered.

GOVERNOR:

Good morning, gentlemen. You're

rather early.

MEN:

'Morning. 'Morning, Governor.

GOVERNOR:

You're here rather early.

JIM:

(pushes paper over

to him)

Did you happen to see this in the

New Bulletin, Governor?

He emphasizes the word "new" cynically.

GOVERNOR:

Yes. I had it served with my

breakfast this morning.

2ND MAN

Jim thinks it's D. B. Norton at

work.

JIM:

Of course it is!

GOVERNOR:

Oh, come, Jim. That little item?

D. B. Norton does things in a much

bigger way . . .

JIM:

This is his opening attack on you,

Governor! Take my word for it!

What did he buy a paper for? Why

did he hire a high-pressure editor

like Connell for? He's in the oil

business! I tell you, Governor,

he's after your scalp!

GOVERNOR:

All right, Jim. Don't burst a blood

vessel, I'll attend to it.

(flips button on

dictograph)

Get me Spencer of the Daily

Chronicle , please.

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