Some Like It Hot Page #32

JOE:

I wanted them to fly down some orchids

from our greenhouse but all of Long

Island is fogged in.

SUGAR:

It's the thought that counts.

She settles herself back on the cushioned seat. Joe starts

fiddling around with the mysterious knobs on the instrument

panel. He pushes, pulls, twists the knob -- finally the motor

turns over, but does not catch.

JOE:

I seem to be out of gas.

SUGAR:

It's sort of funny -- you being out

of gas -- I mean, Shell Oil and

everything --

Joe, working the knobs desperately, does something right,

and the motor starts with a ROAR.

JOE:

Here we go.

He presses every lever he can find, manages to shift into

gear. The boat backs out erratically. Joe shifts into neutral,

but no matter how hard he tries to find the forward gear, he

keeps winding up in reverse.

JOE:

(apologetically)

I just got this motorboat -- it's an

experimental model.

SUGAR:

Looks like they're on the wrong track.

JOE:

Do you mind riding backwards? It may

take a little longer --

SUGAR:

It's not how long it takes -- it's

who's taking you.

The motorboat glides off backwards, and as though it were

the most natural thing in the world, skims out toward the

open water, where the yachts are anchored.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. YACHT AT ANCHOR - NIGHT

The CALEDONIA is bobbing gently on a calm, moonlit sea.

The motorboat with Joe and Sugar comes in stern-backwards.

Joe, looking over his shoulder, maneuvers the motorboat to a

stop under the landing ladder. (Reams of romantic music under

all of this).

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. DECK OF CALEDONIA - NIGHT

as Joe and Sugar aboard. She gazes around, starry-eyed.

SUGAR:

It looked so small from the beach --

but when you're on it, it's more

like a cruiser -- or a destroyer.

JOE:

Just regulation size. We have three

like this.

SUGAR:

Three?

JOE:

Mother keeps hers in Southampton --

and Dad took his to Venezuela -- the

company is laying a new pipe line.

SUGAR:

My dad is more interested in

railroads. Baltimore and Ohio. Which

is the port and which is the

starboard?

JOE:

(the old mariner)

Well, that depends -- on whether

you're coming or going -- I mean,

normally the aft is on the other

side of the stern -- and that's the

bridge -- so you can get from one

side of the boat to the other -- how

about a glass of champagne?

SUGAR:

Love it. Which way?

JOE:

Yes -- now let's see -- where do you

suppose the steward set it up?

He looks around, confused by the unfamiliar geography, then

tentatively opens the nearest door, revealing a flight of

stairs leading below deck.

SUGAR:

Oh, you have an upstairs and a

downstairs.

JOE:

Yes -- that's our hurricane cellar.

He closes the door, opens another one -- it's a storage bin,

containing mops, pails, coils of rope, etc.

JOE:

(continuing)

And another nice thing about this

yacht -- lots of closet space.

Sugar, meanwhile, has stepped up to a lighted porthole, looks

inside.

SUGAR:

Oh -- in here.

JOE:

Of course. On Thursdays, they always

serve me in the small salon.

He opens the door, ushers Sugar inside.

INT. SALON OF YACHT - NIGHT

It's a very elegant layout -- mahogany paneling, shelves of

trophies, a stuffed marlin on the wall, a luxurious couch

with a table for two et up beside it. On the table are lit

candles, cold pheasant under glass, and champagne in a silver

ice bucket.

Joe and Sugar come in, and as Joe takes his cap off, Sugar

looks around, dazzled.

SUGAR:

It's exquisite -- like a floating

mansion.

JOE:

It's all right for a bachelor.

SUGAR:

(stopping by the

stuffed marlin)

What a beautiful fish.

JOE:

Caught him off Cape Hatteras.

SUGAR:

What is it?

JOE:

Oh -- a member of the herring family.

SUGAR:

A herring? Isn't it amazing how they

get those big fish into those little

glass jars?

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