Wild Wild West Page #5

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Jim and Artemus show him their badges. He calms a little

but keeps looking around nervously.

MORTON:

I... I got away from them. I got

away. They didn't expect it, but

I did.

JIM:

Who'd you get away from?

MORTON:

I don't know. No names. No names.

They beat me. I had no choice. I

gave them what they wanted.

ARTEMUS:

What was that?

MORTON:

My research. My formula for a

stronger metal. Stronger and

lighter. Twelve years and they

stole it from me! They said they'd

let me go. But no. They were

going to kill me like all the

others!

Jim grabs the hysterical scientist.

JIM:

Calm down, Professor. You're safe

with us.

Professor Morton yanks away.

MORTON:

No. No, I'm not!

He frantically claws at the metal belt around his waist.

MORTON:

Got to remove this belt! That's

how they'll get me! Help me!

JIM:

Why? What is that?

But the Professor just keeps wildly struggling.

ARTEMUS:

Hold still. Let me look at it.

The Professor freezes, but only because he HEARS something.

His panicked eyes go even wider. Then we HEAR it -- a

HIGH-PITCHED OSCILLATING WHINING NOISE coming closer.

MORTON:

Oh God!! The thing!

SMASH!! The window beside them shatters and into the lab

flies a bizarre object -- like a wide-winged boomerang,

sleek and black, it spins through the air. It arcs high,

then banks to one side and streaks with a pulsing, ear-

splitting SCREECH straight at Dr. Morton -- homing-in on

the metal belt!

MORTON:

NO! GOTTA GET AWAY!

He bolts out the door.

EXT. PROFESSOR MORTON'S LABORATORY - NIGHT

The Professor scrambles out, the spinning SCREECHING object

following him like a bird of prey! Jim and Artemus sprint

after him.

The Professor glances back. The thing is almost on top

of him. He hits the dirt. It blasts overhead, barely

missing him, then turns and SHRIEKS back toward him. He

jumps up, dashing for a tall stand of corn.

EXT. CORNFIELD - NIGHT

The desperate Professor dashes along between rows of corn.

The flying device whips along behind him, slicing the

tops off cornstalks as it zeros-in on its doomed target.

CLANK! The vicious thing slams into the Professor's metal

belt and locks onto it! He SCREAMS and -- KABOOOM! An

explosion lights up the night.

ANGLE - JIM AND ARTEMUS

as they rush to the smoldering crater in the cornfield,

staring in bewildered horror. Gun drawn, Jim squints

into the darkness for any sign of a perpetrator -- nothing.

Frustrated, he turns back to find Artemus down on his

hands and knees beside the crater. Must be sick to his

stomach.

JIM:

Yeah, this kind of thing used to

make me sick, too.

But Artemus is fine. He's searching the ground. In a

moment he spots something and picks it up.

ARTEMUS:

Aha!

JIM:

Aha?

ARTEMUS:

Yes, aha. A brass screw.

JIM:

Is this leading somewhere?

ARTEMUS:

(trying to be patient)

Potentially. This is the

painstaking process of piecing

together clues. The cornerstone

of the modern science of

criminology. Piece by piece we

reconstruct the identity of the

villain.

JIM:

Starting with a screw?

ARTEMUS:

(annoyed)

Yes. Starting with a screw. Now,

it's not fair of me to expect

someone who's spent his life

wrangling with Western desperadoes

to fully appreciate what I'm doing

here, but...

JIM:

What about the explosive?

Artemus doesn't get it. Jim picks up a still-smoldering

shard of the flying bomb. He sniffs it.

JIM:

It's not black powder... It's one

of those new nitro-celluloses.

Should be easy to find out who

made it.

Jim looks innocently at impressed Artemus.

JIM:

I think that beats a screw.

Artemus has to agree but he's not going to say it.

EXT. ROBERT & ROSS EXPLOSIVES - DAY

HIGH ANGLE of a bare field pock-marked with craters.

KABOOM!! An explosion blows another hole. CAMERA MOVES

DOWN to a sign on the roof of a small office -- "Robert &

Ross Explosives." CONTINUE DOWN to a window where we

see:

INT. ROBERT & ROSS EXPLOSIVES - OFFICE - DAY

Jim and Artemus talk with the company's quirky explosives

expert, NORBERT. Throughout the scene test EXPLOSIONS

from outside jolt the room. Each time, Jim and Artemus

flinch. But Norbert is oblivious. Jim hands him the

fragment of the flying bomb.

NORBERT:

Murder weapon you say...?

JIM:

That's right. We've been to every

powder maker between here and

Philadelphia. Nobody knows what

the stuff is.

Norbert sniffs the residue of the powder, fingers it.

NORBERT:

Should've come to me first. No

question. Special batch. Custom

order. I remember it.

KABLAM! The building shakes. Norbert matter-of-factly

catches a falling book.

JIM:

Do you remember who ordered it?

NORBERT:

Nope. Don't have to. Keep records

of everything.

He rolls his chair over to a desk piled impossibly high

with papers. Jim and Artemus glance at each other --

this will take forever. But Norbert just stares at the

stack like a cat watching a bird and suddenly snatches

out the exact piece of paper.

NORBERT:

(reads)

Lansbury Rock and Gravel... of New

Orleans, Louisiana. A limestone

quarry. Funny, don't know why

they'd be blowing people up.

And the building is rocked by another mighty BLAST.

EXT. FARMLAND - THE WANDERER - DAY

The Wanderer barrels along, heading south.

EXT. NEW ORLEANS - ST. CHARLES AVENUE - NIGHT

Gas lamps light the cobblestone streets in the well-to-do

Garden District of New Orleans. Spanish moss drapes the

trees. Jim and Artemus ride along in a carriage, Doyle

at the reins. They stop at a tall, ornate iron gate.

DOYLE:

Forty-three St. Charles Avenue?

They look off, confused. This is no mining operation.

This is --

ANGLE - MIGUELITO'S MANSION

Elegant in a weird, overstated way. The theme park version

of itself. And, at the moment, a line of fancy broughams

and cabriolets parade through the carriage entrance as

turbaned FOOTMEN rush to help PARTY GUESTS descend.

Classical MUSIC wafts toward us.

BACK TO SCENE:

Baffled Jim and Artemus recheck the address.

ARTEMUS:

Limestone quarry?

JIM:

(shrugs)

Limestone quarry, Southern mansion.

Easy to get them mixed up... I say

we invite ourselves to the party.

ARTEMUS:

Absolutely. Have to look for

clues... even if it means dancing

with beautiful women.

Artemus pulls a leather case from his jacket. It's a

make-up kit complete with mustaches, eyeglasses, etc.

ARTEMUS:

Doyle, once around the park. I

need a moment to prepare.

JIM:

Prepare what?

ARTEMUS:

My disguise. And here...

As the carriage moves off, Artemus hands Jim the belt

with the concealed derringer.

ARTEMUS:

(re Jim's sidearm)

One doesn't attend these soirees

packing a forty-four.

(off Jim's dubious look)

Don't worry. I fixed it.

EXT. MIGUELITO'S MANSION - CARRIAGE ENTRANCE - NIGHT

Doyle pulls up to the entrance. The turbaned footmen

rush to open the carriage doors. Jim steps down. No six-

gun, but wearing the concealed belt buckle derringer.

Artemus follows. Disguised with a trim waxed mustache

and a long wig, he wraps a flamboyant scarf around his

neck. Holding a silver-handled walking stick, he tips

his hat at a rakish angle and speaks with an affected

ENGLISH ACCENT:

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