The Ladykillers Page #15

We hear Voices:

PANCAKE (O.S.)

Perfectly all right. Not a problem.

LUMP (O.S.)

Well there sure as sh*t ain't no

tunnel left.

The clearing dust reveals the caped Professor anxiously

dancing from foot to foot, gathering money out of the air.

As he reaches up to grab a bill that has him facing up in

Mrs. Munson's direction, he freezes.

His POV reveals her through dissipating dust.

MRS. MUNSON

Professor, I'm surprised.

There is a long beat, through which all stare at her.

DORR:

...Properly speaking, madam, we have

been surprised; you are taken aback.

Though I acknowledge that the sense

you intend is gaining currency through

increasing use.

Further dissipation of the dust reveals how much money there

is, settling now to cover the floor of the cellar.

DORR:

...You have returned from your

devotions betimes.

We hear the ring of the doorbell.

MRS. MUNSON

I hadda fix tea. I wanna talk to

you, Professor, don't you be leavin'.

And don't make any more noise! And

you!

She points at the General who, in the excitement, has

neglected to hide his ever-present cigarette.

MRS. MUNSON

...I told you, I don't want any

smokin' in here!

She clomps upstairs and shuts the cellar door.

INT. MUNSON HOUSE - LIVING ROOM

We PULL HER towards the front door, angry and lost in thought.

Her look softens somewhat as she opens the door.

It is a chattering infestation of hens: all of her friends

from church push in wearing church dresses and elaborate

hats.

INT. MUNSON HOUSE - CELLAR - DAY

The men are still frozen looking up toward the door. The

muted cackle of church ladies.

The men gradually unfreeze.

LUMP:

She saw everything. She saw our

hole...

He turns to Dorr, near tears:

LUMP:

...She saw our hole, Professor!

Dorr rubs his hands anxiously, thinking:

DORR:

Yes... Yes...

LUMP:

What do we do?

DORR:

Well, first, my dear boy, we follow

the General's example...

The General remains staring up at the door, frozen but for

the smoke pluming from the cigarette in his mouth.

DORR:

...and refrain from panic. Secondly,

we cooly, calmly, collectedly think...

think...

The gaze of all the men drifts back up to the cellar door,

and we look down at them, gazing up.

INT. MUNSON HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY

The chattering ladies are gathered at the table, Mrs. Munson

pouring them tea.

The cellar door creaks noisily -- one might almost say

gothically -- ajar, and the Professor peers out with an

ingratiating smile.

DORR:

Hsst... Madam...

The chattering abates and the ladies all look at him. His

smile broadens into ghastliness and he crooks a finger toward

Mrs. Munson.

DORR:

...Mrs. Munson, if I might have a

word...

MRS. MUNSON

You get back down those stairs!

DORR:

I assure you I shall be--

MRS. MUNSON

Hush! Down those stairs! We havin'

tea now! I be down shortly.

He nods meekly and retreats, easing the door creakily shut.

The ladies look inquisitively at Mrs. Munson as his footsteps

are heard descending the stair.

MRS. MUNSON

...He's the tenant.

LADIES:

Mm-hm.

INT. MUNSON HOUSE - CELLAR DAY

As the Professor rejoins the still staring and silent group.

The money has been picked up and is once again in stacks

upon the table.

DORR:

She shall be down shortly...

Explaining, he indicates upstairs with a jerk of the head:

DORR:

...Tea. Dainties.

The men nod, murmuring.

The cellar door squeaks open. There is the clomp of careful

footsteps on the stair.

Using only tongue and teeth, the General flips his smoking

cigarette inwards into his mouth and gives Mrs. Munson his

usual deadpan look.

She halts halfway down the stairs, still wearing an apron

and holding a spatula.

MRS. MUNSON

I don't know what you boys been up

to but I wasn't born yesterday and I

know mischief when I see it. Now I

want an explanation, but first I

want you boys to get your fannies up

here with y'alls period instruments.

I been tellin' the ladies about your

music and they wanna hear you play.

She turns to head back up the stairs but abruptly stops to

turn and give the General a hard look which he innocently

returns.

MRS. MUNSON

...Hmph.

She turns again and clomps back up the stairs.

The General opens his mouth and, again without using his

hands, restores his cigarette to its usual place on his lower

lip.

Lump is fretful:

LUMP:

Professor?

DORR:

Yes, Lump?

LUMP:

I can't really play the buttsack.

INT. MUNSON HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY

The cellar door opens and the men troop out, G.H. Dorr leading

and the other men following rather sheepishly behind.

DORR:

Madame -- or rather, mesdames -- you

will have to accept our apologies

for failing to perform since, as you

see, we are shorthanded. Gawain is

still at work and we could no more

play with one part tacit than a horse

could canter shy one leg.

LADIES:

Mm-hmm.

MRS. MUNSON

Hmph.

DORR:

Perhaps I could offer as a poor but

ready substitute a brief poetic

recital. Though I don't pretend to

great oratorical skills, I will

happily present, with your ladies'

permission, verse from the unquiet

mind of Mr. Ed G'Allan Poe.

Lump, Pancake, and the General sit and awkwardly accept dainty

teacups.

The Professor rises, spreads his hand, and pronounces:

DORR:

..."Ladies, thy beauty is to me Like

those Nicean barks of yore..."

CLOSE-UPS of the various ladies, some sipping tea or slowly

munching biscuits, but all eyes glued to the declaiming man

in the cape.

DORR:

"That gently, o'er a perfumed sea

The weary, wayworn wanderer bore To

his own native shore... "

Murmuring Voice:

VOICE:

Amen.

A slurp of tea from another quarter.

Dorr bears on:

DORR:

"On desperate seas long wont to roam,

Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face,

Thy Naiad airs have brought me home

To the glory that was Greece And the

grandeur that was Rome... "

A long silence.

Then, scattered:

VOICES:

Mm-mm. Glory hallelujah.

A lady holding a teacup turns to the General:

LADY:

That was soooome poem.

The General stares at her.

LADY:

...You know any?

We hear the front door opening and Gawain enters, still

wearing his Lady Luck custodial uniform. He looks.

His POV:
church ladies with teacups and his comrades seated

among them, also holding teacups and scones.

GAWAIN:

Y'all been celebratin'?.

INT. MUNSON HOUSE - FOYER - LATER (EVENING)

The bustling and chattering ladies are just finishing leaving;

Mrs. Munson is seeing them off at the door. Evening is

gathering, and we hear the lonely toot of the distant garbage

scow.

The men as well stand by the door and, affecting good cheer,

wave off the departing ladies.

DORR:

Goodbye, ladies. We had such a

pleasant time.

Mrs. Munson closes the door and her manner instantly darkens.

MRS. MUNSON

Now, I wanna know what's goin' on.

DORR:

Yes indeed, and the thirst for

knowledge is a very commendable thing.

Though in this instance, I believe

when you hear the explanation, you

will laugh riotously, slappin' your

knee and perhaps even wipin' away a

giddy tear, relieved of your former

concern.

MRS. MUNSON

Hmph.

DORR:

You see Lump here is an enthusiastic

collector of Indian arrowheads and,

having found one simply lying on

your cellar floor, a particularly

rare artifact of the Natchez tribe,

he enlisted us in an all-out effort

to sift through the subsoil in search

of others. Well, in doing so, we

apparently hit a motherlode of natural

gas -- I myself became acutely aware

of the smell of "rotten eggs" -- and

it was at just this unfortunate moment

that the General here violated one

of the cardinal rules of this house

and lit himself a cigarette.

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