Wild Wild West Page #8

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Miguelito escorts the mysterious man out, giving Jim the

cold shoulder. Cassandra smiles, coming over.

CASSANDRA:

You must excuse the Doctor. No

one has ever beaten him at his

little game.

JIM:

I don't like to lose, either.

Jim steps over to the string quartet machine, now playing

a QUADRILLE. He slides a control lever over to "WALTZ."

The machine shudders and segues into "The Blue Danube."

JIM:

I assume, Miss Thompson, that you

waltz.

Of course she does. Jim whirls her off across the floor.

INT. MIGUELITO'S OFFICE - NIGHT

Artemus notices on a shelf beside the desk -- a scale

model of a cannon, but it's a cannon outfitted with all

manner of pistons, gears and flywheels. A pressure hose

connects it to a small steam engine. Intrigued, Artemus

gingerly throws the lever on the engine.

With a HISS the cannon comes to life, automatically

pivoting as it RAPID-FIRES marble-sized cannonballs with

steam pressure -- FOOSH! FOOSH!

The balls fly across the room, knocking over a row of tin

soldiers.

Artemus is impressed. He spots a little brass plate on

the steam engine:

ARTEMUS:

"Loveless Steam Engine Works,

Houston, Texas."

INT. LIBRARY - NIGHT

The romantic waltz continues. Jim dances Cassandra right

out of the Grand Salon into the dark, empty library.

CASSANDRA:

Have you taken a wrong turn, Mr.

Tyler?

JIM:

You tell me.

CASSANDRA:

I'm not so sure Dr. Loveless would

like to find his social secretary

dancing in the dark with an

uninvited stranger.

JIM:

Forgive me, but you don't strike

me as the social secretary type.

CASSANDRA:

Thank you. But the truth is, I'm

a single woman in a man's world.

That leaves me very few choices,

doesn't it?

JIM:

I suppose so. But life can be

hard for a man, too.

They drift closer and closer. Cassandra whispers heatedly:

CASSANDRA:

Oh, I know well how hard things

can get for a man.

She presses against him, their lips are only inches apart

when we hear a soft metallic CLICK. Her eyes widen with

interest.

CASSANDRA:

Speak of the Devil.

She glances down, surprised to see what's got her attention

isn't part of Jim's anatomy. It's the concealed derringer

which has popped out uninvited. Jim clicks it back into

place, embarrassed.

JIM:

Just a little insurance... against

the unexpected.

CASSANDRA:

Would that include me?

JIM:

Oh, I would hope not.

He kicks the door shut. They've both reached the boiling

point and they're in each others arms in a flash. They

kiss greedily.

As she pulls Jim's jacket off, he's backing her across

the dark room, kicking chairs and foot-stools out of his

way until he's got her up against the end of the writing

table. She rips his shirt open and starts hungrily

devouring his chest. But Jim is mixing business with

pleasure. Over her shoulder he's trying to get a closer

look at --

ANGLE - JIM'S P.O.V. - THE INK BLOTTER

Miguelito has just used -- the reversed blotchy letters

of a name are soaked into it.

BACK TO SCENE:

Cassandra heatedly throws herself onto the table and,

with one sweep of her arm, sends everything on it cascading

to the floor. She grabs Jim and pulls him down on top of

her. They're going at it like sharks in a feeding frenzy.

Whatever Jim's doing to her, Cassandra can't help but

start MOANING. She comes up for air.

CASSANDRA:

You've... done... this... before.

JIM:

I've had some practice.

And with that, Jim grabs her and rolls the both of them

off the table to the floor.

CASSANDRA:

Yes! I like it on the floor.

Jim's looking around and spots the fallen ink blotter

slowly swiveling to a stop beneath the table.

JIM:

Under the table.

He grabs her, rolling with her under the table.

CASSANDRA:

Yes!

In her frenzy, Cassandra knocks the ink blotter skittering

off against the far wall. Jim looks at it hopelessly

then -- buries his face in her neck.

CASSANDRA:

Yes... yes...

And he rips off her pearl necklace with his teeth. Pearls

scatter everywhere.

JIM:

Oh, I am sorry.

Jim crawls straight for the ink blotter, scooping up pearls

as he goes.

CASSANDRA:

To hell with them!

And Cassandra practically tackles him against the wall,

rolling with him until she comes up astride her stud.

She wildly yanks off his belt and tosses it. Now Jim

rolls on top of her, making a lunge for the blotter. He

snags it!

And, below frame, Cassandra has snagged what she's after.

As Jim's face registers appreciation for her well-practiced

ministrations, he strains upward with the blotter toward

a mirror above him.

Finally he's able to glimpse the reflection of the blotter.

The letters, now reversed, can be easily read:

"V. L. Pemberton"

Jim can't help but express his happiness:

JIM:

Yes!

EXT. THE WANDERER - DAWN

As dawn breaks, FOLLOW a wire down from a telegraph pole

into the parlour car. We HEAR A TELEGRAPH CLICKING.

INT. THE WANDERER - PARLOUR CAR - DAWN

CLOSE ON the CLICKING telegraph key. PULL BACK to see

Jim hunched over it while Artemus hovers in the background.

Jim sits back with the message.

JIM:

Doctor V. L. Pemberton. I knew

it. He's a scientist all right.

Inventor of the Pemberton Condensed

Steam Engine. I'm telling you,

Artemus, Loveless is our man.

ARTEMUS:

Whoa, Jim. Maybe. But we can't

arrest this little pillar of society

on maybe.

JIM:

All right. How about this? We

put a watch on this Pemberton,

somebody tries to grab him...

ARTEMUS:

Then we've got our proof.

Excellent. And where do we find

this fortunate scientist?

The telegraph key starts CLICKING again. Jim holds up

his hand for silence. They listen, both translating:

JIM/ARTEMUS

"Opel... ousas... Louisiana."

Jim grabs the speaking tube and shouts to Doyle:

JIM:

Mr. Doyle! We're off to Opelousas,

Louisiana, wherever the hell that

is! How soon can we leave?

BAM -- the train instantly JOLTS forward. Doyle's voice

rings back through the tube:

DOYLE (V.O.)

Would that be soon enough for ya,

sir?

Jim smiles, impressed. He and Artemus settle back for

the journey.

ARTEMUS:

You know your Morse Code almost as

well as I.

JIM:

Almost?

ARTEMUS:

Yes. Now, observe....

He starts winking his eyes, one eye then the other, in an

exaggerated way. Jim stares at the strange sight.

JIM:

You feeling all right?

ARTEMUS:

Come on, Jim. I'm serious.

(points to his right eye)

Dot...

(and to his left eye)

Dash. It'll be our secret means

of communication should we ever

need it.

He gives Jim a quick flurry of winks.

ARTEMUS:

Now, what was that?

JIM:

You're either having a seizure or

you just said "hello."

ARTEMUS:

Good, I wasn't sure you were up to

it.

Jim leans forward and angrily winks a message back.

Artemus is insulted.

ARTEMUS:

No need for profanity.

EXT. LOUISIANA - RAILROAD TRACKS - DAY

Billowing clouds of smoke and steam trail from the Wanderer

as it thunders across the delta.

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