-- by Chris Darley --
After a brief period of intense silence, a voice
speaks up in thick New York brogue; it is a chubby and obviously uncomfortably dressed
circa-50 year old man who declares:
O.K., everybody calm down, I am a New York State
chief detective, and as far as I am concerned, we are still very much in my jurisdiction.
Now who can tell me anything about this dead woman, and why she is in the middle of this
dining room in a gelatin mould?
A hundred voices chirp up at the same time, all
simultaneously telling their version of events.
Officer: One at a time PLEASE!
Brooksie pushes her way through the crowd and arrives near
the Officer first, although we see the Captain, his wife, Irene Dunne, the photographer,
Berris and Randolph Scott all fast approaching. The still unconscious form of Cary Grant
is only a few feet from the Officer.
Brooksie: Gracious! Shes dead
Officer: Who is dead?
Brooksie (somewhat distractedly): His niece.
Randolph Scott: Thats not his niece,
thats his lady.
Berris Adams: Thats no lady, thats my
Officer (already confused, having attempted to stop the
dialogue by gesticulation already): Who is she? I mean her name?
Randolph Scott: Mary Margaret.
Berris Adams: Ginny Adams.
Officer (not knowing whether to get upset of angry):
Yes, well, whatever, why is she dead inside that mould?
Randolph Scott: Shouldnt we try and get her out
of the mould Officer?
Captain: Of course we should.
The Captain issues orders to some milling waiters to break
open the mould.
The camera pans to Brooksie, who suddenly looks
illuminated, as if a brilliant idea has just hit her.
Brooksie: Oh MY! He must have done it! He must have
Brooksie: Cary Grant of course; he was going to have
to marry her
Officer: He was going to marry his niece?
Berris Adams: No stupid, he was going to marry my
Officer (incredulously): Your wife is his
Randolph Scott: She agreed to marry him.
Officer: Well it seems clear to me he has some
serious questions to answer.
Cary Grant has now regained consciousness, and although
still rather groggy has been following the last couple of minutes of conversation.
Cary Grant: I didnt do anything! I just want to
marry her! Oh Mags! What has happened?
Officer: Well that should be a crime all by itself,
whoever you are, and anyway I dont believe anybody anymore, whoever you are
pretending to be.
Irene Dunne: Hear, hear!
Officer: And that goes for you, too, young lady.
Given my authority here, granted me by the City of New York, State of New York, I am going
to have you all locked up until I can interview you all privately and get to the bottom of
all this. Theres something not quite right here; 20 years on the force and I can
tell when someones throwing me a curved ball, I can tell ya. I intend to find out
precisely what is going on.
By this time the waiters have broken the mould and removed
Mary Margarets body. Despite protestations, the entire screwball crowd have been
herded out of the room by waiters commandeered by the Officer.
The Body is taken into the kitchens, which have
been cleared. As the Officer and the Captain lean over the body, we see Mary Margaret
surreptitiously open one eye and check that the crowds have disappeared. Neither the
Captain or the Officer spots this.
Officer: Well Captain, its your ship, what do you
suggest? Stick her in the freezer?
Captain: Hadnt we best check if
she really is dead first?
-- by Aileen Mackintosh
We hear the sound of footsteps running towards
the kitchens. One of the junior members of the boat crew, just as he reaches the kitchens
he slips on some of the jello that has fallen from the body. The door opens with the crew
member by this time only just on his feet.
"Captain! Captain youve got to come to
theeeeeeeee....," he never finishes his sentence as finishes on the floor and bangs
his head on one of the storage cupboards.
Captain: "Mackay, what is it?"
"Main dining room...Miss Parker...dreadful...Oh
mgoodness!" the crewman mutters before passing out.
Officer and Captain look at each other.
Captain: "This sound serious we better go and see what
the matter is."
Officer: "What about him?" he points at the crew
Captain: "Hmm, give me a hand well Oh never mind about
him, come on."
Maggie on hearing them leave the kitchens, waits a moment
then sits up and begins to brush off the remaining bits of jello still clinging to her.
She pauses then starts to cautiously walk through the kitchens. Fading into the distance
the voices of the Captain and the Officer.
Captain: "Why is it I'm NEVER in charge of a nice quiet
Captain: "Something always happens."
They turn a corner and their voices fade away.
"Darn that Brooksie," she thinks, "the
trouble that woman has caused me and Cary, and now she seems to have found someone who
says hes my husband!"
She reaches the door and carefully peeps through the small
round windows in the doors, before satisfying herself there is no-one around. She send a
small prayer to the very obliging captain - a very good actor she thinks, the makings of a
broad grin beginning to play across her face.
"I wonder what the commotion in the dining room was
all about?" she says softly to herself.
She makes her way towards her cabin, hoping
that Cary will be in his and maybe, just maybe, they will have some time together.
-- by Georgia Williams --
Meanwhile, back in the dining room, Cary, Irene,
the Captain, and Martha are desperately trying to assist a tormented Brooksie while
Randolph and Berris look on.
Captain: "Well, What happened!"
Berris: Maybe I should answer. You see, Brooksie paid me to
convince you that I was Maggie's husband and that in fact Maggie was really Ginny Adams of
the Philadelphia Adams.
Randolph: But the poor girl paid the wrong sap, because I
just informed her that Mr. Adams here was actually Berris Adams Kidd, brother of Sidney
Kidd the editor of SPY magazine and that darling Brooksie is all washed up because Berris
just wired the whole story to SPY, pictures and everything. The story that portrays Miss
Brooke Parker as the lying cheating, gold digging starlet she really is.
Brooksie still lies on the ground, sobbing .
Captain: But what's she doing down there?!
Randolph: Completely irrelevant old man.
Martha wails: I'm confused!
Cary looks down at the pathetic creature he sees lying
before him, covered in jello, her blonde hair matted together, evening gown tattered,
torn, and tinged lime green; and an incredible wave of pity sweeps over him.
Why would she think up such a plan? Could it possibly be
He remembers how he used to look forward to seeing her, the
parties, the camera's, the quiet lunches at Spago's, the extravagant dinners at the Brown
Derby, and Maggie, gone, the only other love of his life. Go for it, you love her don't
Cary: Oh, Brooksie darling. I'm sorry I've been so
unexplainably mean and rotten. Forgive me please. I love you. Will you marry me?
Brooksie: Marry you?! You want me to MARRY YOU?! I wouldn't
marry you if you were dipped in platinum!
Irene: Hey, that's my line!
Cary: But I thought you wanted to marry me. The episode in
the captains cabin, out on the deck, bribing Berris to say he was Maggie's husband. Didn't
you do all that because you loved me and wanted to marry me?
Brooksie: And now I realize what a fool I was.
Grant get out of my life. I never wish to see you again.
Irene (sarcastically): Come now, don't get too
disheartened. Lets go for a walk, huh? The air will do you good.
She winks at Randy who smiles and leaves in the opposite
OUT ON THE SHIP DECK
Cary leans over the rail, looking out to sea.
Cary: Brooksie, I thought she loved me.
Cary pauses: I thought I loved her.
Irene: Yes, but sometimes what we think and what we feel
are two completely different things.
Cary: And Maggie, poor darling, lying on the kitchen bench,
all cold and..............
Before he finishes his sentence, Cary tears off to the
dining room and into the kitchens with Irene trailing after him.
Cary: Where is she! She's gone!
Irene: Somehow I think you'll be quite pleased about this.
She tells him of Maggie and her plan and an elated Cary
hugs her so hard he practically squeezes the life from her. He looks up and smells her
Cary: You know, youre the sweetest smelling actress
I've ever had the pleasure of working with.
Irene: Next to Maggie.
Cary: But she's not an actress.
Irene: You know what I mean.
She discreetly slips a small white envelope into his back
pocket without him realizing.
The camera follows a tall figure in evening dress whistling
happily and walking along the ship deck, towards Maggies stateroom. He is carrying a
small white envelope in his hand. Once he reaches her door, he bends over and slips the
Maggie hearing footsteps gets up from her bed and rushes
over to the door, sees the letter, picks it up and precedes to read it.
4 oclock, Captains Quarters
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