The Flintstones Page #5

MRS. SLATE

(oblivious of the

trouble)

Morris, while you're at it, I'd

like it plucked -

(CONTINUED)

21.

40 CONTINUED:
40

Suddenly the chickensaurus snaps the ropes, flaps its

wings and leaps through the front window -

41 EXT. BUTCHER SHOP -DAY 41

The huge bird lands with a crunch atop Mrs. Slate's car,

which is practically squashed flat. Then it disappears

around the corner. (We hear CAR HORNS and SKIDDING TIRES

as it goes.)

42 BACK TO SCENE 42

MRS. SLATE

My car --!

Wilma and Betty try and hide their laughter.

CUT TO:

43 EXT. SLATE CONSTRUCTION -DAY 43

Clouds of dust rise from behind the fence. We see the

heads of the heavy equipment dinos rising and falling.

A two-story office building is at one end of the site

with a big "Slate Construction Inc." sign on the roof.

CAMERA ADJUSTS as Fred's car turns into the lot, Barney

seated beside Fred. The new green hood gleams in the

morning light.

44 CLOSER -FRED'S CAR 44

Fred digs his feet into the ground, slams to a halt. He

gets out, surveys the activity. Immediately, the various

workers shout AD LIB greetings. Fred acknowledges these,

beaming in the respect he gets here.

He lovingly dusts off his construction helmet, puts it on,

knocks an offending speck from his parking sign (F.

Flintstone -Shop Steward). He leads Barney towards the

quarry area.

FRED:

Barney, you won't regret this -

hiya, Al --fixing dents in cars

is one thing, a career's another.

Here, you're getting in on the

ground floor of the first footstep

of a new leaf --hi, Wally, how's

the old backhand? And with a guy

like me ta show you the ropes, you

can skip all the red tape, all the

malarky, all the dino doo -

22.

45 NEW ANGLE 45

Fred stands near the weight station booth, where a plump

GIRL in a beehive hairdo sits inside a trailer.

GIRL:

(New York accent)

Hi, Mr. Flintstone.

FRED:

Hiya, Shirley. This is my very

special neighbor and pal Barney

Rubble. He needs an application

form, okay?

GIRL:

Anything for you, Mr. Flintstone.

She slams down two clay tablets and a stylus.

GIRL:

Here you go.

(smiling)

Thanks again for the football tickets.

My boyfriend and I both liked them.

FRED:

My pleasure, Shirl. Anytime.

GIRL:

Okay. But do you think next time

we could go to the same game?

FRED:

(confidently)

No problem.

Fred smiles at her, hands the forms to Barney. Fres steps

towards the quarry, admires the activity, hands on hips,

master of all he surveys. He waves to more friends.

FRED:

Well, Barn, what did I tell you?

When you're in with Flintstone,

you're in like Flint.

BARNEY:

Gee, Fred. I knew you were a big

shot. I just didn't know how big.

Fred beams at that, and then follows Barney's gaze to

the read-out on the truck scale. Fred is standing on it

and it's pushing 250. With a scowl, Fred grabs Barney's

sleeve and they go into the quarry. As they move, the

CAMERA PANS and CRANES UP TOWARDS the window of the

Slate Construction Office.

CUT TO:

23.

46 INT. OFFICE -PULLBACK FROM WINDOW 46

The room here is dominated by a tabletop architectural

model of a large scale construction project. There's

acres of little development houses, then some tall office

buildings, a mall, you name it: There's even little foot-

powered model cars in the model parking spaces.

Near this we see MR. SLATE, a giant in the Bedrock construction

business (but not in height). Slate drinks

coffee from a "Boss" mug, listens with growing impatience

to JERRY LAVA. Several of Slate's lackeys listen, their

heads nodding up or down in sympathy with Slate's mercurial

moods.

LAVA:

Uncle, if you'll look at this unit

cost projection... it intersects

here with -

SLATE:

--how'd you like my fist to

intersect with your nose? I've

told you a hundred times, don't call

me uncle in the office! Now, I didn't

arrange your scholarship to Harvrock

University so you could waste my time!

So stop beating around the bushasaurus

and get to the bottom slime!

LAVA:

You'll be bankrupt in six months.

Slate does a Danny Thomas spit take all over the model.

47 EXT. QUARRY -MOVING SHOT 47

Fred and Barney cross the busy lot, sidestepping workers

and animals. Fred does a lot of backslapping, waving.

Barney's filling out the forms on the move. Behind them,

we see the wide access ramp which spirals around the

quarry's sides.

BARNEY:

(to himself)

Social Security number...

dependents... 'how learned of job'

... newspaper ad, carrier pigeon...

(writing)

... Personal reference...

Hearing a loud SMASH, Fred looks up and sees -

48 FRED'S POV -A WRECKING BALL OPERATOR 48

A burly and rough looking guy named PILTDOWN, he grins inside

his dino-topping cupola, winds his winch handles and

then propels his wrecking ball towards the...

24.

49 QUARRY WALL -ABOVE 49

--where the huge stone BALL SMASHES into some walnuts

balanced on a boulder.

50 WIDER 50

Piltdown's compact buddy PYRITE cackles, sweeps up the

walnuts. Munching them, he balances a new one in place.

(It should be noted here that the relationship and physical

appearances of Piltdown and Pyrite mirrors that of

our heroes... they're sort of an anti-Fred and Barney.)

PYRITE:

Way ta go, Pilty baby. Five bucks

says you can't hit one on the fly.

PILTDOWN:

(calling up)

Yer on, Pyrite -

Pyrite tosses a walnut, which bounces on the ledge. The

wrecking BALL SMASHES into the stone wall.

51 BELOW 51

Workers near Fred duck as dust and debris fall down.

People grab for their construction helmets.

FRED:

Not again...

Fred hustles up a ladder to a ramp which leads him up to

the level of Piltdown's cab. Barney hurries to follow.

FRED:

All right, Piltdown, that's enough!

You're endangering your fellow

workers!

PILTDOWN:

Yeah? Sez who?

FRED:

Says me, Fred Flintstone --shop

steward of Amalgamated Neolithic

Workers 101.

PILTDOWN:

Yeah? Well, A.N.W. one-oh-one gives

us workers a snack break. So...

(a nasty grin)

... I'm breakin' some snacks.

He swings the wrecking ball again.

25.

52 UP ABOVE 52

This time he's overdone it: The wrecking ball flies past

the walnuts --Pyrite ducks for cover --and then the

wrecking ball whips over and around the handrail which

runs along here, twisting as tightly as Indiana Jones'

whip. The handrail wobbles dangerously in its

foundation -

53 PILTDOWN'S DINO 53

SNORTS, backs up --the crane SUPPORTS on its back begin

to CREAK and GROAN with the strain -

54 WIDER 54

Workers scatter, fearful of the imminent collapse. Fred

runs to grab the dino's reins.

FRED:

Whoa, whoa, big fella -

He calms the beast by giving it a carrot. As it munches,

Fred quickly ties the reins to a post.

FRED:

(calling up to the cab)

You're on report, Piltdown! If it's

up to me you'll be pushing a

wheelbarrow!

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