The Last of the Blonde Bombshells Page #6

- Hello.

Welcome to New Jersey on Thames.

- It's a pleasure to be here.

- A pleasure to be here.

Well, that remains to be seen.

We've got a slight technical difficulty.

- This is it.

- Watch your heels, girls.

Welcome to our social club.

- Careful, Dinah.

- What happened?

- So much for our big night.

- A doodle bug. A flying bomb.

- I hope we still get paid.

- The guys were real disappointed.

They heard you on the radio.

And they found out you all were dames,

you can imagine.

I'm the one who's disappointed.

That's the lady from the bathroom.

- Hey, girls.

- Darling boy.

Put that man down. He's mine!

No, he isn't.

Patrick and I are secretly engaged.

And I want everyone to know it.

Well, I got some news.

He's actually engaged to me.

He's even met my mother.

Sorry, girls, he's marrying me

as soon as the war's over.

I just bought a silk nightie

on the black market.

He's marrying me.

I spoke to the vicar

and he gave me some booklets.

He proposed to me.

In the boiler house on Tuesday.

He proposed to me on Thursday.

You're all wasting your time.

Patrick's already married to me.

- Come on.

- Please.

We got married this morning.

- You lying b*tch.

- Tell them, dear.

- Yes, tell us.

- You lied to us.

Tell us. Go on, what's all this rubbish?

It's true. I got a 48-hour pass

so I could get married and play the gig.

Anyway, tomorrow I go off to foreign parts.

- Lf you live that long.

- He won't.

Well, how was it?

- You tell them.

- Dinah, you were sharp.

Evie, you were flat.

And Annie, you were in tune,

but you've forgotten how to swing.

And Patrick, you sound like

you're wearing a surgical boot.

- What about me?

- Oh, you were fine, darling.

- She would say that. You're her favorite.

- Oh, please.

- Girls, girls.

- Oh, shut up!

Go screw yourself.

That's as individuals.

As a unit, we were crap.

Maybe we were crap way back in 1944...

...except in our dreams.

Hey, and that's another thing.

There's to be no drinking on the stand.

Sorry, babe. This is not negotiable.

Sober, I can't play a note.

Drunk, I can't play a note.

But there's a point in the middle

where I play like a goddamn angel.

Please, Dinah, do you mind?

I'd rather you didn't blaspheme.

This is a bandstand, sister.

If you don't like it,

get thee to a f***ing nunnery.

That's enough!

I resign!

I resign!

You can't do that.

Sh*t, I resign too.

- Girls.

- Me too.

I'm going back to the prison.

At least people are nice in prison.

Come back.

Your husband just dropped

the bomb on the band, lady.

Stop, you're not going anywhere!

You lot, you're a disgrace to women.

I wouldn't disagree with that.

- Don't you realize what's at stake here?

- What's at stake? I can't think of anything.

First off, the dance is in an hour's time.

There's 100 quid in it for you.

I had to fight the committee to get it.

- Is that 100 pounds each?

- No, between you to share.

And tea and biscuits.

If I give you 100 pounds,

may I proceed peacefully...

...to the nearest liquor store?

No, you may not!

And what about all my calls

to the French embassy in French?

What's she talking about?

Tracking down your Madeleine.

Madeleine?

Madeleine, do you still play?

A 5'3" woman doesn't lug

that instrument across Europe...

...on public transport just for the fun of it.

Have you started without me?

Only because we thought you were dead.

I'm very much alive.

Not so sure about the rest of you, though.

Elizabeth!

And Patrick.

Patrick.

The man who was going to marry me.

Now we can rehearse.

Apparently they're called Open Wound.

- Open what?

- Wound.

And the music they play is retro punk.

Well, I can't tell whether

this is any good or not.

I think we might be in the wrong place.

I think we might be

in the wrong bleeding century.

I will be good for the rest of my life

if you help me get through this, please.

- Any news of Gwen?

- Not as yet.

She doesn't show, we'll kill her.

You'll see to it. Right, babe?

There's a geezer comes in the bar.

He's in that line of work.

I know how to kill people.

Do you really know how to kill people?

It was necessary in the Resistance.

That's why I play music.

Music is the only clean thing I know.

There.

Now, how's that?

Second favorite lips.

- I've come to say I'm sorry.

- Sorry, what for?

It's all my fault.

If I hadn't been beautiful and talented,

we wouldn't have been on the BBC.

The man from the BBC wouldn't have seen

you and wouldn't have been arrested.

And you wouldn't be going off

to almost certain death.

That was you?

Of course it was.

I've been wondering for years

who that little schoolgirl was.

Maybe not years,

but a good 20 minutes, certainly.

Shut up. Say something sensible for once.

Will you marry me?

Absolutely not.

You don't even remember

you gave me my first grown-up kiss.

- I'm not very good at remembering.

- I'm still waiting for the second.

Open Wound will be back

later this evening.

And now, it's my pride and

privilege to introduce, well...

...my grandmother, actually.

And the Blonde Bombshells.

Thank you, Joanna.

A long time ago when the world

was young, I was a Blonde Bombshell.

I wasn't much older than

a lot of you here this evening.

Now, several decades later,

I made a discovery...

...that old people are just young people

who've been around for a long time.

Here's one.

From London, England...

...direct from the All Night Casino,

the little boy who never grew up...

...and the finest transvestite

percussionist of our time...

...Patrick on the drums.

From the end of the pier

at Hastings, England...

...a woman who has lived suspended

over the deep end of the ocean...

...for a long time and hasn't fallen in yet.

Betty on piano.

From the blood-soaked

continent of Europe...

...a woman who tells it like it was,

is, and ever more shall be...

...Madeleine on bass.

From the highlands of Scotland,

trailing glory, malt whiskey and alimony...

...Dinah plays the sweetest trumpet

this side of Jericho.

On abscondment from Christianity,

with a note countersigned by God...

...we say amen with Annie on trombone.

On parole from the debtors' prison and

getting help and care in the community...

...Evelyn on alto sax.

All right.

- I thought I'd come along for the fight.

- It's about time, Gwen.

- You missed it.

- Sh*t!

- You're going to sing?

- Introduce me.

From the Latin quarter of Wolverhampton,

the woman with a voice of gold...

...who never ever plays school dances

and totally unrehearsed...

...Gwen.

From the leafy suburbs of south London...

...the bombshell who made

all this possible...

...Elizabeth on tenor sax.

Put it all together and what have you got?

Ladies and gentlemen,

the Blonde Bombshells of the third age.

"It don't mean a thing

If you ain't got that swing

"It don't mean a thing

All you got to do is sing

"Makes no difference if it's sweet or

"Don't mean a thing

If you ain't got that swing

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