The Tarnished Angels Page #2

- And that did it?

- Yes, that and...

a look in my eyes.

Or maybe it was the

shape of my legs.

Better let you get some sleep.

- Why don't you take the couch?

- Where'll you go?

I'll take the chair.

Thank you, very much.

You're just like Jack.

He can sleep anywhere.

- Bus seats, benches, anywhere.

- Does that include beds?

No, he doesn't like beds. They

remind him of... sickness.

- By the way...

- Yes?

When were you and Roger married?

It was the summer of 1923.

July 17.

We were in Portland, Oregon.

It was the night before a big show.

We were working late on our plane.

Then we went to the airport caf...

for some coffee.

What's the matter, Laverne?

That delayed jump this afternoon

give you the heebie-jeebies?

- I'm quitting.

- Hm?

Hey, Rog. Laverne

says she's quitting.

What is it? You fed up?

Scared? Or are you homesick?

No. It's just a fact of life.

I'm in a family way.

If you don't marry her, I will.

- Didn't you hear me?

- I heard you.

JIGGS:
Well...

What do you say?

Are you just gonna sit there?

Listen, I'm talking to you.

Yes or no?

Quit playing the dummy. You

gonna marry Laverne or not?

Laverne, why don't

you say something?

Eight.

You throw them.

Why, you dirty, no-good louse.

Step outside, I'll

kick your teeth in.

Roll the dice.

(SHOUTS)

Roll the dice!

Ok, I lose. I marry Laverne.

She gets the winner.

We left the caf.

We went to our hotel, changed

into our Sunday clothes.

And then we went looking for

a justice of the peace.

About three in the morning,

I became Mrs Roger Shumann.

Did you feel any shame at all?

Yes, I felt shame.

Long before the dice game.

If Roger hadn't talked up,

would you have married Jiggs?

No.

No.

I'd have gone off somewhere, alone.

You see... I had no reason

to marry anyone but Roger.

What time is it?

About two o'clock.

Just woke out of a nightmare.

I was going down in flames,

shot down by Baron Richthofen.

(CHUCKLES)

You know, I'm hungry.

- Must be strong salami.

- The stronger the better.

Compliments of a restaurateur

with a long memory.

Claude Mollet.

- The power of the press, huh?

- No. Just a Frenchman,

who never forgot that you flew for

France in the Lafayette Escadrille.

- Vive la France.

- And that's not all.

He's throwing a party for all you

barnstormers Mardi Gras night.

The party's in your honour.

Everything's on the house.

That's the way it used to be in France.

Every night was Saturday night.

Every Dawn was Monday morning.

Only the fellas who were

honoured at the parties

are those that never came back.

It's French Burgundy.

You can have your bed back.

Half of it, anyway.

(BAND PLAYS LIVELY MARCH)

Hey, why don't you ask me how

much I dropped last night?

- Where'd you play?

- Willie's.

I was filling those inside straights

when his missus blew the whistle.

- On the level, what'd you do last night?

- Nothing much.

Just sat up half the night

discussing literature and life

with a beautiful,

half-naked blonde.

You'd better change bootleggers.

Well, here I am, early,

bright and sober.

Good. I'll put a gold star

after your next by-line.

My cup runneth over.

No double entendre intended.

- I'm covering the air show.

- According to my assignment book,

Senator Griffin, who's keen to run against

Hoover, is at the St Charles Hotel...

You're boring me.

And I've assigned the

distinguished Burke Devlin...

The devil you have.

- Read it and weep.

- I'm covering the air show.

For what newspaper? The Hobo News?

Be reasonable.

This could be the best human-interest

yarn I ever latched on to.

Senator Griffin is a more important

story than even the Mardi Gras.

Would it be if four

visitors from a strange,

faraway planet were

to land in the city?

Those flying Gypsies aren't

from another planet.

They're from hunger.

What are you, city editor

or the humour editor?

Something tells me I won't be

your city editor much longer.

Listen to me!

Those flying Gypsies look like you and

me, but they're not human beings.

They couldn't turn those

pylons like they do,

wouldn't dare, if they

had human brains.

Burn them, and they

don't even holler.

Scratch one, it's not

even blood they bleed.

They're a strange race of people, without

any blood in their veins at all.

Just crankcase oil.

Not crankcase oil.

Alcohol.

Three o'clock, St Charles Hotel.

Why, you lousy reformed drunk!

You know what you've got in your

veins? Embalming fluid, that's what!

Embalming fluid!

(LAUGHTER)

- Burke drunk again?

- No. Just fired up.

Correction. He's fired.

(FAIRGROUND MUSIC PLAYS)

ANNOUNCER:
Ladies and gentlemen,

our special added attraction...

a spectacular delayed

parachute jump,

featuring that beautiful distaff

daredevil, Laverne Shumann!

And there she goes!

(SHRIEKING)

How about that, folks? How

was that for thrills?

Laverne Shumann executing her

daring, death-defying freefall.

She released her first chute, fell in

space and opened her second chute.

Now she's releasing the straps

and is going to hang on to the

crossbar with her bare hands,

the first time a woman has

ever descended this way.

And can she hold on? There's

a terrific pull there.

Watch her, folks, Watch her for thrills,

the thrills of excitement we promised you.

Looks like she's going to make it.

Yes, Sir, the daring and lovely

Laverne Shumann is going to make it.

Give the lady a big hand, folks.

It was a tremendous feat.

Give the lovely Laverne

Shumann a great, big hand!

- Where's Jack?

- He went after some soda pop.

That was quite a jump.

The boys didn't think so.

They were hoping the wind

would tear my dress off.

- All for a lousy 20 bucks.

- It's like falling out of bed.

Well. What if you black out?

You missed the point of our act.

I'm just the girl assistant

with the exposed legs.

Roger, he's the big magician.

A little tape, and he turns

himself into a bird.

A crazy bird, chasing after

prizes as big as... birdseed.

You in the newspaper

business for the money?

Business? We lovingly

call it a game.

PA:
Pilots to the starting line.

Pilots to the starting line.

ANNOUNCER:
Ladies and gentlemen,

the major event of today's

programme, the skull dash,

featuring the most renowned speed

fliers of the world today,

including Frank Burnham and

Captain Roger Shumann.

Acting as starter is the

boss of Delta Field,

and the sponsor of the air

show, Colonel TJ Fineman,

up and around for the first time

since his recent air crash.

The planes are in position now,

all set for the racehorse start.

And there they go, down the field!

Rounding the pylon it's the favourite,

Frank Burnham, in the lead.

In second place it's Roger Shumann

in his Lafayette Escadrille biplane.

Trailing in third place

is Speed Murphy.

As they turn the lake pylon

and head for the field pylon,

it's still Burnham in the lead,

Shumann second, and Murphy third.

Round the first pylon again,

Burnham sets the pace.

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