Save the Tiger Page #4

Phil, take Fred through the factory.

- He'll give you a preview of the new line.

- I'll show you around.

I'll see if I can get that design

that you're interested in.

- Okay, Harry.

- How's Edna?

Good, Phil, good. She's out of the hospital.

Thank God. Glad to hear that.

Yeah, we were all a little worried about her.

Margo, it's Harry Stoner. How are you, love?

Forget it, Harry, I'm sorry.

Like I told Phil, I'm booked.

Baby, you have got to get

un-booked, 'cause this is vital.

I understand all that but it's the last minute.

You know all the buyers are in town.

Who is it anyway?

An old buddy. Fred. You know, Fred Mirrell?

I think he's in love with you.

That freak!

He'll want Dusty and me to do the act.

The olive oil, camphor ice, vibrator,

finger paints...

you know, the whole God damn megilla.

No, you got the wrong guy.

That's Jackson from Pittsburgh.

No, Fred is... Come in.

Fred's a straight ahead fella.

Hang on, honey. Yeah, that's fine.

I'll talk to you later.

- That's just terrific.

- I don't have the wrong guy.

Listen, love, believe me, you have

got Fred confused with Jackson.

Look, honey, I need this favor.

Margo, they're in a wringer.

- And if you want to tell me...

- No, it's not bad.

Look at the back; it's not too high,

it hangs on the back...

- Fred, you have an appointment.

- It's very nice, Rico, thank you.

- I might see you later, dear.

- 1:
30, my boy.

You're beautiful!

Your friend is in Room 9227

at the Belgrave.

- It's really gorgeous, Harry!

- Any problems, we'll be down in the bar.

It's so gorgeous, Harry.

Beautiful. I hate to put you in a spot.

- How could you put us in a spot?

- I hate to be a pain in the ass.

I know the pressure

you boys are under, Jesus.

- No.

- I hate to be a pain in the ass.

Now go on, enjoy yourself.

You're only young once.

Thank you, boys.

The top buyer of one of the most

reputable stores in the country...

- and he's a pervert.

- That's Jackson from Pittsburgh.

Thank God for Margo, she's a real pro.

Yes, we're rich with professionals:

Margo and Charlie.

One starts the fires,

the other one puts them out.

All right, let's go to lunch.

All right, let's go to lunch.

- I'm going to the can.

- I'll meet you at the elevator.

Would you call a cab?

We're gonna go to lunch

and then go to the hotel.

- Any calls for me?

- Your wife called. Excuse me.

Capri Casuals.

Who's calling, please? One moment, please.

It's Mr. Norris.

I'm sorry; he's gone to lunch.

Can he call you back? Thank you.

- My wife?

- Your wife called from the airport.

She'll call you tonight from New York.

She said not to forget

to take your Vitamin E.

Thanks, Ida.

Second base:
Pete Coscarart.

Durocher at short. Cookie Lavagetto at third.

Catcher:
Babe Phelps.

Maybe it was Mickey Owen?

Pitcher:
Lou Camilli.

"Hot Potato" Hamlin.

Vito Tamulis.

Take an hour for that change of pace

to get up to the plate, man...

Flutterball.

How about a little Chinese for a change?

- I feel like pastrami.

- Pastrami? That stuff will kill you.

They fly it all the way in from New York.

Let's go down to the Hong Kong

and we'll have the $3 special.

- Sweet and Sour Pork.

- I feel like pastrami.

Come on, Phil. That place

is a madhouse, that delicatessen.

I'll take you down to the Hong Kong,

and we'll have a nice quiet lunch. Yeah.

- Where we going?

- Chinatown, the Hong Kong Restaurant.

Phil, will you relax?

We haven't done anything so far...

and they can't lock you up

for just thinking about something.

Not yet, anyway.

How's Linda? Has she gotten over

her fishing phobia yet?

- No, but she enjoys the boat.

- Not doing any fishing, though.

Nope. I'm still the only fisherman.

I guess it's nice out there on a Sunday.

Peaceful, quiet.

Yeah. You ought to try it sometime, Harry.

I'll bet you've forgotten

what the ocean smells like.

I remember when I was a kid, I hitched

a ride on a trolley car to Coney Island.

Saw the ocean for the first time.

God, nothing could make me forget it.

Just blue and green.

You ought to come out on the boat, Harry.

Yeah, I guess I should.

Keep it.

You're a very generous citizen.

Take a good look at us,

we're a vanishing breed.

Do you see this, Mac? You know what it is?

It's a portable bathroom.

I can't take five minutes off for a piss.

- So don't make jokes with me, mister!

- All right, I'm sorry.

- I didn't mean anything. Here, take this.

- Stick it up your ass!

It's the pollution, Harry.

It makes everybody crazy.

- Do you have any drops with you?

- No.

My eyes are burning.

I tell you, Phil, there's one

wonderful thing about Los Angeles.

- What's that?

- It's not Buffalo.

You son of a b*tch. You know

how many times that I've fallen for that?

Did you see in the paper this morning

where we lost 3,000 helicopters?

You know how much money that is?

Hell, I don't want to hear about that,

drop it.

What's the matter?

I mean, the waste, the money.

- The men.

- Men?

Yeah, the men.

What do you want me to say about that?

Hell, I just don't want to talk about it.

Screw the helicopters.

For God's sake, Harry,

what are you getting upset...

- Phil, please!

- I just meant the waste...

- Phil!

- The money.

Remember when I went to Milan last year?

- Cotton mills?

- Yeah, that's right.

Covered the cotton mills.

Then I flew to Rome

and I drove down to Anzio.

There's a ridge there and the sand

is all piled up like a dune...

you know; it runs about 200 feet.

In 1944 that sand was muddy with blood.

And last year it was covered with bikinis.

Bikinis, you know, cute little buckets...

sweating into the same sand

that held all that blood.

Hell, I don't want to talk about war.

It's the final joke.

It shouldn't surprise you. Battlefields

have a way of turning into resorts.

Wait a minute.

Yeah! Air Mail Special.

Only that's not Charlie Christian,

he was the original.

Oh, Jesus, that was Big Band showtime.

One time... I'm just a kid, see?

And I'm playing drums,

we're in this divey joint...

it's up in the mountains. We had a vocalist.

Everybody in the band

is banging her except me...

and I got a crush on her. God.

These Foolish Things.

She could sing These Foolish Things,

put you right in Paris.

Blonde, blue-eyed...

perfume, the whole whiff of her was just...

Before a number she'd come over...

she'd lean down and she'd whisper

to me, "Easy on the brushes, kid...

"easy on the brushes."

She was gonna be vocalist

with Tommy Dorsey.

I was gonna play the drums

with Benny Goodman.

The difference is, when we were kids

all the choices were simple.

- Life was simple. Everything added up.

- No more.

This morning I gave a ride,

this kid was hitching.

She just goes up and down the Strip.

She wanted to ball me, she said.

No words, just...

She was hardly older than my daughter...

makes you wonder

what the hell's going on out there.

Who knows?

Rats are crawling around babies...

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