Mr. Smith Goes To Washington Page #36

DIZ:

You said it!

SAUNDERS:

I'm getting out of there. Right now,

Diz. Right now. Bonus or no bonus.

I'm gonna clear outa that office--

everything I own--my extra hat--

everything--

She starts to scramble out from behind the table. Diz is

startled by her sudden, furious movements.

DIZ:

Hey! We're gettin' married--!

SAUNDERS:

(without pausing)

Right now--everything I own--!

She is on her way. Diz, with a great effort, scrambles out

from behind the table after her.

The scene dissolves to JEFF'S PRIVATE OFFICE, where JEFFERSON,

his collar undone, is writing with great eagerness, his eyes

alight. Suddenly a desk drawer slams off scene. He looks up.

JEFFERSON:

(calling)

Saunders?

No reply. Another desk drawer slams.

JEFFERSON:

Saunders!

SAUNDERS' VOICE

Whadaya want?

Jeff, puzzled at the tone of her voice, rises. He starts

slowly around from his desk.

JEFFERSON:

Saunders--I looked for you--

She appears in the doorway, pugnaciously.

SAUNDERS:

Yeah? What for?

She heads for the coat-rack to get her extra hat.

SAUNDERS:

I know. Don't tell me. It was a

wonderful party. Your suit went over

big. And she looked beautiful, and

she gave her hand when you left her--

and said--"Thank you, Mr. Smith."

Oh, but it was the way she *said*

it. You like to fell through the

floor--Horseradish!

JEFFERSON:

(fairly speechless

under this violent

attack)

Saunders--!

SAUNDERS:

And you're writing Ma all about it.

And your pigeons will carry the

message of love. And the first thing

you know--Susan Paine'll get the

best jar of preserves she ever tasted!

JEFFERSON:

Are you drunk?

She returns to the OUTER OFFICE--Jeff following.

There Diz is collapsed in a chair, and Saunders is collecting

her things.

SAUNDERS:

Certainly. You didn't think I was a

lady, did you? You don't think a

*lady* would be working for this

outfit. Even *I* can't take it

anymore. I quit. Can't take a lot of

things. *You*. I can't watch a simple

guy like you--

(Breaking off--in a

burst)

Why don't you go back home? Take my

advice. Go on back to your prairies--

roust your rangers around--tell your

little streams about your camp and

the land of the free! This isn't any

place for you. You're half-way decent.

You don't belong here. Go home. That's

all I'll tell you. That's all. I owe

my conscience that much. I owe it a

lot more, but--

(Suddenly--indicating

Diz)

Meet the man I'm going to marry!

DIZ is seen forcing a smile and feeble wave at Jeff.

DIZ:

Tha's me.

Saunders turns viciously on Jeff, who is stunned and silent.

SAUNDERS:

Well--why don't you say something--

what are you standing there for--?

(Then--on a wild

impulse)

Wait a minute!

She tears for the files--dives into one section of them.

SAUNDERS:

Why don't I get out of this place

clean?

(Lifting a printed

bill out)

Want to be a Senator, huh? Gonna

build a camp on Willet Creek! See

this? Appropriations Bill. A little

section--number forty. A *dam's*

going up where you think you're gonna

have a camp. Ever hear of it? No.

They read all about it in the Senate

today--but you weren't supposed to

hear it. That's why that ritzy dame

took you in tow. That's why they

sent you here in the first place--

because you wouldn't know a dam from

a bathtub!

(Flinging it on a

desk)

Go ahead--*try* to build your camp--

*try* to mess up Mr. Taylor's little

graft! Go ahead--be a Senator! But

if you *can't* be--and you can't in

nine million years--go on home--don't

hang around here making people feel

sorry for you! Come on, Diz.

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