Wild Wild West Page #12

---

Only Miguelito's eyes betray any reaction to the insult.

He remains totally pleasant.

MIGUELITO:

And you want to know what I spent

all your money on. A fair

question... with a simple answer.

I bought a little something for

myself.

(turning his back)

Now please don't move because we

really must shoot you.

The bodyguards pull their revolvers and mercilessly OPEN

FIRE. Miguelito winces at the sound, and again as the

three bodies THUD to the ground. Without turning around:

MIGUELITO:

Dispose of them... quickly.

He scurries off, squeamishly shielding his eyes.

MIGUELITO:

Oh, I just hate killing people I

know.

Bruno and Voltaire drag the bodies inside.

ANGLE - JIM AND ARTEMUS

These are two confused guys.

ARTEMUS:

Can you fill me in here?

JIM:

Sure. We have no idea what's going

on.

ARTEMUS:

Thank you.

JIM:

Come on, let's at least see if we

can find Dr. Pemberton.

AS JIM STARTS OFF:

ARTEMUS:

You go ahead. I'll stick with

Loveless.

They sneak off in different directions.

INT. STEAM WORKS - NIGHT

Miguelito heads for a big work table, impatiently clapping

his hands to assemble people. Half a dozen ASSISTANTS

gather round him as he unfurls a map.

CAMERA TILTS UP TO FIND:

ANGLE - ARTEMUS

now sneaking along a catwalk among the HUMMING belt-drives.

He can get near the table but not close enough to hear

over the POUNDING STEAM ENGINE. But this doesn't stop

him.

He starts pulling mysterious machine components from his

pockets, boots, and inside his coat.

EXT. STEAM WORKS - RAILROAD SPUR - NIGHT

Moving along, checking windows, Jim rounds a corner.

A train waits on a siding, its freight cars being hurriedly

loaded by more WORKERS. At the end is a private rail car

opulent enough for your average Emperor. A SHAPELY

SILHOUETTE is back-lit behind a window shade.

INT. STEAM WORKS - CATWALK - NIGHT

Artemus has assembled a small wind-up machine from his

various concealed parts. He carefully rolls a pre-cut

piece of paper into a small cone and slides its narrow

end into a metal ring with a diaphragm stretched across

it.

He fits this into place on the machine, then adds the

final part -- a foil recording cylinder (the size and

shape of a toilet paper tube). He winds the handcrank.

Next he pulls out his cable-firing derringer. He needs a

clear shot at a wooden column beyond the table. To get

it he has to lean way out from the catwalk, propping

himself against one of the (unmoving) drive-belts.

He takes careful aim, timing it just right with the steam

engine's rhythmic POUNDING. Just as it POUNDS, he FIRES.

The gunshot's drowned out by the noise.

Bull's-eye. The dart sticks in the column, its cable

stretching back to the derringer. Artemus hooks his

cylinder recorder onto it, switches it on, and lets the

thing slide down the cable until it's dangling in the

shadows above the hanging lamp directly over the table.

He hauls up on his end of the cable and ties it off.

He grins smugly. But that's when the drive-belt he's

leaning against starts MOVING. He's yanked off the

catwalk, clinging to the racing belt. In seconds he'll

be pulled into the big idler wheel at the end of the line.

He's got no choice. He drops down, grabbing hold of the

lower part of the belt. Instantly he's hauled off in the

opposite direction zooming along above the oblivious

minions below.

There's hope. The drive-belt carries him over a row of

unmanned machinery. No one's around. He lets go and

plummets to the floor in a heap. Relieved, he shakily

gets to his feet. A door opens behind him. He turns

just in time to catch sight of Bruno and the incoming

fist that knocks him unconscious.

EXT. STEAM WORKS - RAILROAD SPUR - NIGHT

Sneaking along, Jim rolls deftly under the train to avoid

the busy workers. He pops up at the rear door of

Miguelito's private rail car. Soft MUSIC plays from

within.

INT. MIGUELITO'S PRIVATE CAR - PARLOUR - NIGHT

Jim slips in quietly. Nobody there. He spots Miguelito's

humidor, opens it, and pockets a few Cuban cigars. Not

too shabby. The music is coming from the next room. He

moves to the door. Tests the doorknob. It's unlocked.

Peeks in.

ANGLE - JIM'S P.O.V. - CASSANDRA

sits at her vanity, brushing her hair, wearing an alluring

red dressing gown, provocatively dishabille, an ornate

music box TINKLING beside her.

INT. MIGUELITO'S PRIVATE CAR - BEDROOM - DAY

Cassandra GASPS as Jim bursts in behind her.

JIM:

Keep quiet if you know what's good

for you.

She manages a smile and looks him up and down hungrily.

CASSANDRA:

Well, Mr. Tyler, speaking of what's

good for me...

She stands. Jim can't help but notice her dressing gown

is barely doing its job -- or maybe doing it too well.

JIM:

I'm not Mr. Tyler and you're no

social secretary. Where's Dr.

Pemberton?

She turns back to the vanity, "pouting."

CASSANDRA:

That strait-laced little prude?

Can't you forget about her? A

woman like that couldn't begin to

satisfy a man like you.

She selects a bright red lipstick and smooths it on slowly

and sensuously. But Jim's not putting up with this. He

grabs her wrist. The lipstick goes flying.

JIM:

(low and mean)

Where is she?

She glares at him, pulling away.

CASSANDRA:

She's perfectly safe.

JIM:

Really? Like General Garrison or

didn't you hear all that shooting?

That rattles her a little.

CASSANDRA:

The General...? Well, Dr. Loveless

is a very... purposeful man.

(softening)

But you certainly have nothing to

fear... from me.

She leans closer, her enticing red silhouette shimmering

through the dressing gown. Then we HEAR a CLICK from

below frame. Cassandra steps back, smiling.

CASSANDRA:

Where have I heard that before?

She glances down. But this time it's Jim's pistol pointed

at her.

CASSANDRA:

My. It's gotten longer.

JIM:

You bring the best out in a man.

CASSANDRA:

I try.

(suddenly desperate)

Please, if you promise to protect

me, I'll testify against him.

I'll give you an ironclad case.

She steps even closer, pressing herself against the gun

barrel, turning her face up to him, bringing her lips

closer and closer.

CASSANDRA:

And, as you already know, I can

give you much more than that.

Jim's not about to trust her, but he is, after all, Jim.

He pulls her body to him, pinning her arms behind her,

and gives her the kind of kiss that gives foreplay a good

name. Then he smiles:

JIM:

Not a bad deal.

She smiles back. But it's an eerie smile on those freshly-

lipsticked lips.

CASSANDRA:

For me.

Jim stares at her warily. Then he realizes -- he's getting

woozy.

JIM:

What...? How the hell...?

He makes a desperate lunge for the door, but in two steps

he drops, unconscious. And she rushes back to the vanity

and starts wiping off the potent red lipstick. She's a

little dazed herself. Is it from the lipstick -- or him.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. STEAM WORKS - MACHINE SHOP - DAWN

CLOSE ON Jim as he blearily awakens. He's tightly bound

hand and foot. He looks around. He's in a large dingy

basement -- Miguelito's workshop. It's filled with all

manner of Frankensteinian equipment and inventions.

Rate this script:4.5 / 2 votes