The Ultimate Cary Grant Pages - www.carygrant.net

"Warbride's Screwball Comedy"
Chapters 1 thru 3

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

Chapter One
-- by Jenny "the Nipper" Curtis --

The camera pans down a Hollywood corridor containing several dressing room doors with stars on them. We see Cary Grant approaching toward the camera. He stops at one door, stoops down and peers through the keyhole.

Interior of dressing room with keyhole effect as if looking through a ship's periscope. We see Randy Scott sprawled out on the yellow sofa with the sun lamp on. His bulky frame reclines face down like a roach on a stick of butter.

Cary looks left and right through the keyhole and he makes a face at the camera, of puzzlement and slight annoyance.

A female voice from off-screen asks, "I wouldn't have thought you'd need to stoop that low." The camera pans to her, a middle-aged lady with Pince-nez glasses and a long smock. She smiles slyly at Cary and he blushes in obvious embarrassment.

"I'm on the lookout for Brooksie," he whispers. "You haven't seen her, by any chance, have you dear?"

"Now why would you be afraid of a sweet young thing like Brooksie? Unless you two had a tiff."

"It's Brooksie's mother actually, I'm supposed to go to lunch with her and--"

"And you wanna give the old battle ax the brush-off?" she says loudly as Cary winces and gives her the shush finger.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Cary says tip-toeing away from the door.

"Well come with me sweetie and we'll see what we can get together in the way of a disguise."

Cut to shot of Cary sitting in a make-up chair wearing a Geisha Girl wig and heavy, white make-up and a kimono.

"Phyllis darling, I don't know what I'd do without you," Cary says smiling at his made-up reflection in the mirror. Close-up as faces the camera and bats his heavy black eyelashes seductively.

Chapter Two
-- by Heather Doughty --

The back stage door opens. We see a large foot peek from the bottom, followed by the fingers of one hand creeping around the door into the noonday sun. Out pops Cary's head, glancing around nervously, scanning the activity around him for his would- be lunch date.

Feeling safe, he quickly scoots through the door, jumping as it slams behind him. He squints, raising his hand as he is momentarily blinded. He rushes down the stairs, tripping slightly over the hem of the long, oriental red silk kimono. He skips a few steps, catching himself just in time as his feet hit the ground, and his back arches, thrusting his mid-body outwards, his legs sticking solidly to the ground, one arm flailing in an effort to keep himself upright, the other gripping the banister for dear life. He recovers himself, and stands upright, his wig askew and hanging low over one eye.

He straightens the dress quickly, untwisting it from it's unnatural swirl, ensuring all padding is in place correctly. He adjusts the wig as inconspicuously as possible, trying to draw as little attention as he can manage. He pictures how ridiculous he must look, 'Who am I kidding anyway? A six foot plus geisha girl?' , and an irascible grin lights his face. He takes a ginger step across the lot, awkwardly picking his steps in the impossible get-up.

His eyes are on his feet, his shoulders slumped in character as he shifts his feet forward. For that reason, his eyes fly up as be bumps into Charlie, the lot security guard. His face registers shock as he looks first at Charlie and then to.......

"Pardona me, sai." he squeaks in his best imitation, hands folded in a praying position, bowing his head low. Oh please...........his mind chants again and again.

"Sure thing, miss......no problem," Charlie says hesitantly. Cary keeps his eyes averted, acting as humble as possible as Charlie and his charge eye him suspiciously. He tries to shuffle away, mumbling..."Thank you, so sorry......thank you"

"Just one moment, please........." the woman chirps. Cary stops dead in his tracks, closing his eyes tightly in frustration, his body stiff with wild thoughts of making a mad dash for it. He turns to face her, dreading the repercussions of being caught, his mind flashing through a short list of excuses for his behavior.

"I was wondering if you could tell me which set I might find Mr. Grant working, could you dear?" the woman inquires, emphasizing the dear. Sharp old bat, he thinks, she knows something.......

He gives it a shot........."So sorry, me no speak English"

Her expression mirrors her doubt. She enunciates her words, just to play along, pointing towards the set doors. "Grant......Mr. Grant?"

He shifts uncomfortably. "Ah........."

"Yoshika! Yoshika, where have you been? I've been looking all over for you!" came a shout from behind them. A young blonde, about 5'3, dressed casually, holding a clipboard in one hand and snapping the fingers of her other comes jogging across the lot. When she reaches the group, she takes Cary by the elbow, scolding him.

"You know how upset Mr. Donen gets when the extras don't show up on time. If you want to continue to work, you've got to try and keep the schedule." She turns to Charlie and the other woman apologetically. "Excuse me for interrupting," she smiles, gently pushing Cary ahead of her, " but we're terribly late for shooting. Is there anything I can help you with?"

The woman blinks, then stammers out "I was actually inquiring after Mr. Grant? I'm here to meet him for lunch, but we haven't been able to find him........I just thought perhaps.................well, never mind," she finishes lamely.

"Hmm, well, we mere employees don't have much dealings with stars such as Mr. Grant, but perhaps Charlie here can take you into set 35. I've heard Mr. Grant is scheduled to shoot there today. Sorry I couldn't be of more help." With that, she increases her grip on Cary's elbow, and leaves the two staring behind them.

Grateful beyond expression, Cary shuffles along beside the girl, still holding his head low. He murmurs a quick thanks, as the woman continues pulling him alongside. He glances at her sideways, admiring her energy, searching his memory for any recollection of her, but not finding one.

"That was a shameful thing I just did, " she teases. "Contributing to the delinquency of a man in a bad geisha disguise.........do you suppose there's a law against that?"

He chuckles, "I doubt it, darling, but there is one against standing up the formidable Mrs. Parker, I'm afraid. I believe you've just sealed my fate."

She laughs. "I'm sure you're a very big boy, Mr. Grant, who can take care of himself. Or in this case, a very big girl. Did you really think you were fooling anyone with this?"

He grins sheepishly. "Well, desperate times...." he sing-songs. "Besides, in the old days, the actors who played geisha girls really were men. Granted, shorter men, but the fact still remains. I'm amazed you didn't know that, Ms.......?"

"I'll give you that," she states, then stops short in front of another set of steps. "Well, I'm certainly glad I could be of help. This is my stop though, duty calls." She turns towards the steps, hurrying up them and opens the door.

"Wait! Aren't you at least going to tell me your name?" he asks, removing the wig and scratching his head. "I would like to know which angel to thank in my prayers tonight."

Sly one......she thinks. She flashes him a smile. "And why would I do that? I've seen how you treat your lunch dates, sir. The rejection would devastate me." She winks and closes the door behind her, leaving him staring up at the empty platform.

He continues looking for a moment, a mischievous smile crossing his face, before turning on his heels and continuing on his way.

Chapter Three
-- by Aileen Mackintosh --

Some time later we see Brooksie sitting in a smart restaurant apparently waiting for a someone to join her. Unseen since Brooksie has her back to her and because she's behind a couple of large aspidistras sitting at another table is Mrs. Parker. Cary walks in dressed in evening dress.

Cary says "Brooksie my dear how nice to see you" and as he sits down she gives him a small present. "For me ?" he asks and begins to open it.

"Oh you shouldn't ha....." His voice trails off as just at this moment he catches a glimpse of Mrs. Parker behind the aspidistra. The eyebrows shoot up and Cary gives her a startled look "Uh oh!" he thinks then gives a slow smile. Looking round he sees a waiter heading in his direction with a tray full of drinks. "Hmmmm....." he thinks and in the blink of an eye he follows the waiter and deftly whips the tray from him and heads towards a table near the restaurant door. Praying Mrs. P. will not spot him. The waiter follows him.

As Cary nears the door he trips, the waiter behind him grabs the tray as Cary falls, somersaults and ends up sitting in front of the restaurant door with a glazed expression on his face.

At that moment a girl walks in.

"Well, well if it isn't my dear Yoshika" a laughing voice says from above. The blonde from studio 28 swims into vision.

As Brooksie appears he twists his head round "Brooksie dear meet an old friend and angel who helped me" he staggers upright and adds "Miss Err...Umm..."

"Oh so old that you've forgotten who she is, and who is this Yoshika anyway" she looks angry, "Another angel of yours?"

Brooksie's mother now sees them and heads in their direction and like a ship in full sail, determined not to be put off any longer, there is no escape this time........

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