The Hudsucker Proxy Page #4

beware of imitations, genuine article.

The guy's a real moron.

A five-letter word for imbecile.

As pure a specimen

as I've ever run across.

OK. If I'm not an expert,

my name isn't Amy Archer

and I never won the Pulitzer Prize.

In 1957.

My... Oh, my series

on the reunited triplets.

Oome here, hammerhead,

and I'll show it to you.

- Three letters:
A flightless bird...

- Not now, I'm busy.

I said hammerhead, a ten-letter word

for a bullying newspaper man.

Gnu. G-N-U.

Who couldn't find the Empire

State Building with a guide.

Or is it emu? That's potatoes.

Here comes the gravy.

The chump really likes me.

A Muncie girl.

- Better off falling for a rattlesnake.

- He's a patsy, but what for?

There's a real story here,

some kind of plot, a cabbala.

- And did I tell you?

- Money?

- A sawbuck.

- 10 smackers! Let's grab a highball.

On Norville Barnes.

Oopy!

Miss Smith,

would you come in and take a letter?

Of all the cockamamie...

Did you see the front page

of today's Argus?

I didn't bother to read the article.

The picture didn't do you justice.

The picture's fine. It's what

that knuckleheaded dame wrote.

Of all the irresponsible...

Take this down.

Dear Miss Archer,

I call you "miss" because

you've missed the boat completely.

How would you know if I'm an imbecile

if you haven't the guts

to interview me man-to-man?

Ohange that to "face-to-face".

No, "eye-to-eye".

And guts to "decency".

Speculation about my intelligence,

preposterous inventions,

are better suited to the pages

of Amazing Tales Magazine.

If the editors of The Argus publish

the rantings of a disordered mind,

perhaps they will publish

this letter, but I doubt it,

as I doubt also you could find

a home at Amazing Tales,

a periodical

which I have enjoyed for many years.

Sincerely, etc, etc...

Is that all, Mr Barnes?

You know me better than this dame.

Am I an imbecile?

- Well, I'm sure I...

- Go on. Tell the truth.

I place a lot of stock in your opinion.

- Well...

- Sure, you're biased.

You're a fellow Muncian.

But let me ask you a question.

Would an imbecile come up with this?

I designed it myself.

This sweet baby's

gonna put Hudsucker right back on top.

Uh-huh.

You know, for kids.

- Why don't I just type this up?

- No, Amy, that won't be necessary.

I shouldn't send it.

She's just doing herjob, I guess.

I don't know.

Maybe she does deserve it.

Maybe she should

have faced you, man to man.

- She probably had a deadline.

- She still could've gotten your side.

- For the record.

- Well, what's the use of grousing?

Forget the letter,

I just had to blow off some steam.

She's probably just a little confused.

Oonfused?

Probably one of these

fast-talking career gals.

One of the boys,

know what I mean?

I'm sure I don't know what you mean.

Probably suffers from

one of these complexes.

She's probably very unattractive

and bitter about it.

- Oh, is that it?

- Probably dresses in men's clothing,

swaps drinks at the watering hole,

hob-nobs with a smooth-talking heel

in the newsroom named Biff or...

- Smitty.

- Exactly. And I bet she's real ugly.

Otherwise, they'd print her picture.

Maybe she puts her work

ahead of her personal appearance.

That's what she tells herself. But we

know she's a dried up, bitter old maid.

How about we grab dinner and a show

after work? Maybe The King and I?

How about Oklahoma?

You don't know a thing

about that woman, who she really is.

Only a numbskull thinks he knows things

about things he knows nothing about.

Say, what gives?

[Clock chimes]

[Steam hisses]

[Whistles]

[Elevator whirs]

Uh-huh.

[Steam hisses]

[Mussburger] The director...

...a slack market.

The inventory of the Jacksonville

facility should be reduced by 15%%% .

- Memo. From Sidney J Mussburger...

- [Moses] What you doing, Miss Archer?

Huh?

[Clanking]

Who are you?

How did you know who I am?

[Moses chuckles]

I expect old Moses

knows just about everything.

Leastways, if it concerns Hudsucker.

But who are you? What do you do here?

I keep the old circle turning.

This old clock needs plenty of care.

Time is money, Miss Archer.

Money drives that old global economy and

keeps Big Daddy Earth spinnin' around.

- Without that capital formation...

- [Amy] Yeah, yeah.

Say, you won't tell anyone

about me, will you?

I don't tell no one nothin'.

Unless they ask.

Thatjust ain't old Moses' way.

If you know everything about Hudsucker,

why was Norville Barnes made president?

That even surprised old Moses at first.

I didn't think the Board was that smart.

- That smart?

- But then I figured it out.

They figured Norville for an imbecile,

like some other people I know.

Why on earth would the Board

want a nitwit to be president?

Because they're little piglets.

They're trying to inspire panic.

Make the stock cheap

so they can snitch it up themselves.

But Norville, he's got

some tricks up his sleeve.

You know, for kids. [chuckles]

- Uh-huh.

- Yeah, he's a smart one, that Norville.

I guess you don't know him

any more than that board does, do you?

- Maybe I...

- Only some kind of knucklehead

thinks she knows things

about things she...

...when she don't er...

- How'd that go?

- It's hardly the same.

Why, you don't even know your own self.

You ain't exactly

the genuine article, are you?

In connection with my job, sometimes

I have to go undercover, as it were.

I don't mean that.

Why are you pretending

to be such a hard old sourpuss?

Ain't going to never make you happy.

I'm happy enough.

[Guffaws]

OK, Miss Archer.

I got gears to see to.

[Laughs]

I'm plenty happy.

[Steam hisses]

Hello? [echoes]

- I can't print that.

- Why not?

The Board's using the guy,

depressing the stock.

Speculation.

They'd have my butt in a satchel.

- Satchel-butt.

- They'll buy that stock.

The stock's cheap.

What are they waiting for?

- I don't know.

- Amy's hunches are usually good.

You don't accuse someone

of stock manipulation on a hunch.

Readers aren't interested

in sensationalism, gossip.

Facts, figures, charts,

the tools of the trade.

It's as if you're trying to take

the heat off Barnes, gone soft on him.

[Smitty] That's a low blow.

Archer's not gonna

go gooey for an idiot.

All right. But you're out of line

with this stock story.

Get me more

"Moron from Sheboygan" stuff.

- Muncie.

- Whatever. That sells newspapers.

I got a harder story:

"Sap from the Oity Desk".

- Watch it!

- A dim-witted editor...

Hey! Easy, tough guy.

[Smitty chuckles]

- Does this suit look mannish to you?

- Sure, let's grab a highball.

Back off... Smoocher.

Say, what gives?

[Chatter]

[Mrs Mussburger] Enchanting!

[Mrs Mussburger]

A man of great managerial potency.

My husband is also a president,

Sears Braithwaite of Bullard.

- Do you know him?

- Your companion is an ode.

- [Mrs Braithwaite] Are you betrothed?

- Amy works at my office.

- She works the mimeograph...

- The folly of youth!

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