Some Like It Hot Page #16

JERRY:

That's ridiculous.

SUGAR:

And your head is hot.

JERRY:

That's ridiculous.

SUGAR:

(her feet touching

his under the cover)

And you've got cold feet.

JERRY:

(a wan smile)

Isn't that ridiculous?

SUGAR:

Let me warm them a little.

(rubbing her feet

against his)

There -- isn't that better?

Jerry has turned his head away, and is now mumbling to

himself.

JERRY:

I'm a girl, I'm a girl, I'm a girl --

SUGAR:

What did you say?

JERRY:

I'm a very sick girl.

SUGAR:

(sitting up)

Maybe I'd better go before I catch

something.

JERRY:

(holding her by the

arm)

I'm not that sick.

SUGAR:

I have a very low resistance.

JERRY:

Look, Sugar, if you feel you're coming

down with something, the best thing

is a shot of whiskey.

SUGAR:

You got some?

JERRY:

I know where to get some.

(sitting up)

Don't move.

He climbs across her, and opening the curtains, leans all

the way over the edge of the upper berth and down toward the

berth below.

In Lower 7, Joe is asleep, facing the window. The curtains

part, and Jerry, dangling upside down, reaches toward the

suitcase at the foot of the berth. He raises the lid of the

suitcase, rummages around till he finds a bottle of bourbon.

As he takes it out, Joe stirs. Jerry freezes, raises the

bottle up, ready to conk Joe if he wakes up. Joe turns over,

settles back to sleep, and Jerry swings his body through the

curtains.

Jerry, the bottle clutched in his hand, is hanging upside

down, while Sugar in the upper berth holds on to his legs.

As Jerry tries to raise himself back up, he slips out of

Sugar's grasp, and sprawls in the aisle. He lies absolutely

still, afraid that Joe may have heard him.

SUGAR:

(a solicitous whisper)

You all right?

JERRY:

(getting up)

I'm fine.

SUGAR:

How's the bottle?

JERRY:

Half-full.

As he hands it up to her, the curtains of Upper 4 part, and

Dolores, who has been awakened by the fall, peeks out.

SUGAR:

(to Jerry)

You better get some cups.

Jerry pads over to the water fountain beside the rest rooms.

He punches out a couple of paper cups from a dispense, flits

back to Berth 7, and scurries up the ladder.

Dolores watches all this with great interest.

Back in Upper 7, Sugar has already opened the bottle.

JERRY:

(handing her the paper

cups)

I tell you -- this is the only way

to travel.

SUGAR:

(pouring)

You better put on the lights. I can't

see what I'm doing.

JERRY:

No -- no lights. We don't want anyone

to know we're having a party.

SUGAR:

I may spill something.

JERRY:

(shifting into high)

So spill it. Spills, thrills, laughs,

games -- this may even turn out to

be a surprise party.

SUGAR:

What's the surprise?

JERRY:

(coyly)

Uh-uh. Not yet.

SUGAR:

When?

JERRY:

We better have a drink first.

SUGAR:

(handing him cup)

Here. This'll put hair on your chest.

JERRY:

No fair guessing.

They drink. The curtains open and Dolores, standing on the

ladder outside, sticks her head in.

DOLORES:

This a private clambake, or can

anybody join?

JERRY:

(turns, startled)

It's private. Go away.

SUGAR:

Say, Dolores -- you still got that

bottle of vermouth?

DOLORES:

Sure.

JERRY:

Who needs vermouth?

SUGAR:

(to Dolores)

We have some bourbon -- lets make

Manhattans.

DOLORES:

Okay.

(starts down the ladder)

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