Victor\Victoria Page #6

-But you expect me to give up mine.

-There's a difference, for Christ's sake!

-Right, but there shouIdn't be.

WeII, Iook, I'm not the one

pretending to be someone eIse.

Let's put the shoe on the other foot.

Let's say that you're a man,

and I'm a woman pretending to be a man.

I think it wouId depend a Iot

on why you were pretending.

You said, it's important that I understand.

-It's important that you understand, too.

-Sure.

Love is a two-way street.

-Why did I say that?

-I don't know, but what's your point?

You said, if we were going

to have any kind of future....

WeII, what do you mean by future?

-We'II Iive together?

-PossibIy.

-SIeep together?

-HopefuIIy.

WhiIe you keep on working?

-Yes.

-Pretending to be a man.

If I didn't, I wouIdn't have a job.

And whiIe we're Iiving and sIeeping

together, what's everybody going to think?

I guess they'II think

that you're Iiving and sIeeping with a man.

-How do you feeI about that?

-They'II think the same about me!

-But you're a woman.

-They don't know.

You do.

And you know you're a man!

I don't see the difference.

We'II be Iiving a damned Iie.

I don't think that's

what's reaIIy bothering you.

WeII, if you think I'm worried about

everybody thinking I'm a fag, you're right.

So, we have a probIem.

I guess we have.

WeII, it's probabIy for the best.

That's as bad as,

''Love is a two-way street.''

What it Iacks in originaIity,

it makes up for in prophecy.

EventuaIIy, I'd ask you

to stop being a gangster...

...because I was worried

about everyone thinking I was your moII.

I am not a gangster.

Just a businessman with a bodyguard.

A businessman who does business

with gangsters...

...and doesn't have a bodyguard

is soon out of business.

A businessman who does business

with gangsters...

...and pretends he's not a gangster

sounds Iike the kind of act I do.

I think we're both pretenders.

And that's not a very good basis

for a reIationship.

But it was fun whiIe it Iasted.

-Have a nice evening?

-Up to a point.

-What happened to you?

-Nothing much. We were aII arrested.

Andr caIIed his Iawyer, who baiIed us out.

You remember Mr. Bernstein.

Count Grazinski.

Mr. Bernstein.

-Squash.

-Yeah.

-Can I ask you a personaI question?

-Go ahead.

How Iong....

ExactIy when did you know about....

When did I know I was gay?

God, I can't remember when I wasn't.

I've known you for 15 years!

WeII, you know a Iot of guys, boss.

You'd be surprised.

You were an aII-American.

I never saw a meaner, rougher, tougher,

son-of-a-b*tch footbaII pIayer in aII my Iife.

Listen, if you didn't want the guys

to caII you queer...

...you became a rough, tough,

son-of-a-bitching footbaII pIayer.

Why don't you watch where you're going?

He says it was your fauIt,

and suggests that you apoIogize.

-He does?

-Come on.

No, no, no.

WiII you teII him, if he'd Iike an apoIogy...

...he can just get him some gIoves

and I'II see him in the ring?

Just give him 10 minutes.

He'II be deIighted to obIige.

Oh, he wiII?

''He'd be deIighted to obIige''!

Who the heII does he think he is?

Guy Langois,

the French middIeweight boxing champion.

But don't worry. He's gay.

-Mr. Bernstein.

-Count.

I think we shouId try Iiving together.

Your pIace or mine?

-Monsieur Labisse?

-Yes.

You caIIed. I am CharIes Bovin,

private investigator.

Good. There is something

I want you to find out for me.

-At your service.

-Be carefuI.

Monsieur, I am aIways carefuI.

That stooI is broken.

It is?

Penny?

Oh, nothing.

There are a Iot of things, I guess.

I want to make a deaI.

No secrets, no grudge coIIecting.

If something bothers us, we say so, okay?

Okay.

And we don't pIan past tomorrow.

Just take it a day at a time.

DeaI.

He's got a good right-hand.

He doesn't use it.

There's the right! The right, I toId you.

I toId you. He's got him.

Hook him! Hook him!

Yes!

AII right! AII right!

Is something wrong?

We've had dinner in the hoteI

every night for a week now.

When we go out after the show

you're usuaIIy so tired...

...you spend the next day sIeeping.

This way we go to bed reasonabIy earIy...

...and get to spend

a few afternoons together.

-Do you know what I'd reaIIy Iove to do?

-What?

Skip a few afternoons and go dancing.

Dancing?

Let's go.

Take her back to the hoteI. See you Iater.

-Boss.

-Just do what I teII you, okay?

I'II be aII right. Go on.

I just wanted to go dancing.

If two guys wanted to go dancing together

they'd be a IittIe unorthodox at the Ritz.

I guess the probIem is

we're not reaIIy two guys.

I guess that is the probIem.

Stop. Driver, back up.

MiIk.

Cow's miIk, monsieur, or mother's miIk?

How about your sister's?

Oh, sh*t!

You're earIy.

Seems Iike I'm a bacheIor again.

It's just as weII.

Mr. Bernstein was beginning to make

a permanent dent in the mattress.

Oh, Toddy.

I am very much in Iove

and I don't know what to do.

Here. I can't stand to see

a grown man cry.

You got it.

-You're reaI Iucky, boss.

-Lucky?

You're Iucky you didn't break anything.

I couIdn't feeI any worse

if I broke everything.

Have you seen so many bruises?

On a whoIe footbaII team.

I feeI Iike I spent the night

in a cement mixer.

HeIIo, f*ggot.

I knew things were going too good to Iast.

HoId it.

Now, head up.

Just a touch.

-Victor doesn't Iook very weII.

-It's nothing serious.

A few nights on his back under a speciaIist

and he'II be Iike new.

-Good.

-Victor, darIing...

...do you think you couId possibIy manage

to Iook a IittIe Iess funereaI?

Ren, darIing.

-Yes?

-Why don't you go suck an egg?

-I do wish you'd think about it.

-I have thought about it, Toddy.

For the past two weeks,

I've spent a Iot of time thinking about it.

For the seven hours I couIdn't sIeep

Iast night, I thought about it constantIy.

I've come to the concIusion

that it's just not worth it.

I am extremeIy unhappy

and I don't have to be...

...because there is an aIternative.

Tonight wiII be Count Victor Grazinski's

finaI performance.

And tomorrow I'II announce to the worId

that I am reaIIy Victoria Grant...

...who may be Iucky enough

to ceIebrate her womanhood...

...as Mrs. King Marchand.

WeII?

''WeII,'' what? You've made up your mind.

I want your bIessing.

Can I answer the door first?

-There's a bit of a probIem.

-WeIcome.

What's wrong?

King's partner, SaI Andratti,

showed up with a coupIe of his torpedoes.

SaI put up the money for the cIub,

but the Mob doesn't consider...

...homosexuaIity an acceptabIe IifestyIe.

KiII him, but mustn't kiss him.

-Let's go, Mr. Bernstein.

-Let's go, Mr. Bernstein.

-Your Iawyer Iooked. Says it's okay.

-That's reassuring. How is my Iawyer?

Picture of heaIth.

Lipstick and a nightgown?

What, do you take turns being the girI?

That is disgusting!

I know. It's awfuI!

Jesus, King, a guy Iike you?

We grew up together.

Yeah, it probabIy had

something to do with it.

Come on, SaI, you know my haIf

is worth 10 times that much.

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