Myra Breckinridge Page #5

are gonna take the business over.

There's no more

studs around anymore.

Everyone's popping pills

and smoking grass.

- Oh, Miss Van Allen?

-Yes?

This is Miss Breckinridge,

who'll be with us teachin'...

until she goes back East

on or before September 3.

Permit me to say that you are the only

brain comparable to my late husband's.

Ooh, I appreciate that, honey,

but what did your late husband do?

He wrote books

about the movies.

- Oh. Was he gay?

- Ostensibly he was Americana--

a terelyne-hosed chick-baller from East

57th Street, but underneath it all--

He was gay.

Sit down, honey.

You sound like a good agent.

You see, Miss Van Allen,

Uncle Buck and I deal in myths.

And movie stars are like

gods and goddesses.

When one fades,

another promptly takes its place...

because the human race requires

that the pantheon always be filled.

And you and I must seek out

the glittering few...

that are the new stars

of our race reborn!

That is the damnedest thing

lever heard... about this business.

You have all the kinky angles that

are in right now. What about studs?

Heaven.

I mean, have you any

that I don't know about?

Uh, only one that's really

A material.

I know you'd like him.

He's our pride and joy.

He's the last stronghold of masculinity

in this Disneyland of perversion.

He looks like he's got quite a lot

going for him. What's his name?

- Rusty Godowsky. - I ain't sure these kids

should try to walk before they can run.

- Anyway, Rusty's been busked.

- [Leticia ] Arrested for what?

Violation of parole.

Perhaps you could help.

I'll look into it.

I have a judge by the--

Oh, Leticia...

they don't call you Queen of

the Casting Couch for nothing.

From what I understand, they're

voting me a special Academy Award.

- An Oscar?

- No.

A golden phallus.

And let me tell you, someday we'll

have our own stable of studs.

A steady stream

of sturdy studs.

A boy bank,

where credit is always good.

Sort of a lay-a-day plan.

- God bless America!

- God help America.

A lay a clay.

Mmm.

That reminds me.

I simply must go.

Identical twins.

I'm the only one

that knows the difference.

Yeah. Get me

judge Frederic D. Cannon.

Keep ringing

the judge's chambers.

He sleeps there

between sessions.

Never mind howl know.

No nation can long endure

the onslaught of godless Communism...

which permeates the very warp

and woof of Southern California.

Eternal alertness to what your neighbor

is up to is the price of freedom.

Miss Breckinridge,

keep your eye on him at all times.

And remember...

the Commies will use every

infernal device known to man...

to worm their way into

our churches and supermarkets...

which is why...

only the National Rifle Association

stands between a free America...

and a Communist takeover.

With this in mind, we may yet curb

the lawlessness and degenerate values...

as expressed by the Kremlin...

and upheld...

by the Supreme Court

of the United States.

Well, thank you, sir.

Come along, Rusty.

- Say, Ollie?

- What?

What time is it?

- It's nearly half past.

- Thank you, Ollie.

Ladies and gentlemen...

we take great pleasure

in presenting to you...

the world-famous

recording star...

Miss Leticia Van Allen...

- and the Van Allen Dancers.

Hell, jail wouldn't be so bad

if it wasn't for all those faggots.

There's always

some fruit after you.

That shouldn't bother you, Rusty.

Well, the whole idea

makes me wanna puke.

A man should act like a man.

Know what l mean?

Look out, baby!

- How should a man act?

He should ball chicks.

That's how.

- But only if he loves her.

- [ Woman ] Cigars...

- cigarettes, chewing gum...

Bananas.

What is normal?

Well, it's what everyone does.

I mean, it's what the majority

of society does most.

Yeah.

I still think a guy

should ball chicks.

- Ah-ha-ha.

- Hi.

How's it goin', girls?

just great, sweetie.

Playing, uh, canasta?

- That's right, sweetie.

Hey. Great, great, great.

Uh, how's your

poker game going, sweetie?

Ah, great, great.

Great.

- Just great.

Yes.

- Bang! Bang!

- Oh!

Ooh,you got him, Kid Barlow.

You got him.

Kid Barlow was the fastest gun

at Republic Pictures.

- Them was the days.

Yeah. Well...

every time I look at

them old flicks of mine...

in the morning on TV...

I get a lump right here

in my throat.

Oh, we was Saturday afternoon

for the whole world.

Till our kind of pictures...

just rode off in the sunset.

And what's taken our place?

I'll tell you what.

Perversion.

That's what's taken our place.

Communist perverts

turning out filth.

I guess I'll have to pass.

- One no-trump.

Three hearts.

- Three hearts?

Three no-trump.

Three no-trump?

I know I'll have to pass now.

- No bid.

- Well, how was the beef teriyaki?

Awful.

Worse than the chow mein.

What's that?

Swedish massage.

What do you do with it?

I beat you with it.

- Does it hurt?

You bet your ass.

Somethings wrong

here someplace.

Good evening, Rusty.

Good evening, Rusty.

Um, gee, it's,

uh, really nice...

that Leticia Van Allen wants

to represent Mary Ann, isn't it?

Yes, very nice.

About your back...

I've spoken to Uncle Buck's

chiropractor...

and she's going to arrange

a special brace.

But she couldn't be here tonight. So she asked

me to take an exact tracing of your spine...

so that she'll know

what to do.

So if you'll just

slip off your shirt...

we'll get right to work.

Step on the scale...

and we'll measure you.

Take off those atrocious cowboy boots.

- They'll break the scale.

- Oh, no, they won't.

Do exactly as I tell you.

You don't want me to have to tell

the judge that you've been...

uncooperative, do you?

No, no.

Guess I'm full of holes.

Oh, well, that's all right.

Now we'll need your weight.

Um, which is...

And your height...

which is...

six-one and a quarter.

Well, the chart's

filling up nicely.

You can get down.

Now, we'll need

a urine specimen.

Step behind the screen.

- But, uh--

- But?

Well, what's the matter?

I don't know. I guess I'm,

uh, what they call pee shy.

Well, don't be,.

just relax,.

- We have plenty of time.

Ah. Bravo.

Now, then.

Rusty...

Godowsky.

- Would you come here and loosen your belt?

Perhaps we better

wait for the doctor.

- Do as you're told, Rusty.

- What do you want me to do?

Well, it's very simple. I don't know

what you're so frightened of.

All I want you to do is loosen

your belt and say, Ah. "

- Now, then, take a deep breath.

- Turn your head to the side and cough.

Hmm. Bend over

the table, please.

There's more where that came from.

Bend over the table.

- I want to take your temperature.

- But not there.

Certainly there.

I don't know, Rusty. You've been

showing a very suspicious reluctance.

I think you have a disease

you've been hiding from me.

Why, no, Miss Myra.

Then face down

on the table.

- Hands up here.

All right. Now, this is just

so you won't move...

while I do the tracing.

There we go.

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