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