(Devere is seated at his desk, his chin in both hands, moodily staring at the Overstreet hot-line phone. Junior is working on some files nearby. Wendell and Harry are engaged in a business argument.)

HARRY- Protection is a basic commodity! We got the manpower---why shouldn’t we sell protection? 

WENDELL- We should. But to the Pentagon?

HARRY-Why not? They can afford it.

JUNIOR-(looking up from files) But you can’t go into competition with the FBI. It’s Un American…isn’t that correct, dad?

(Devere does not answer.)

JUNIOR-Dad, you’re not listening.

DEVERE- Huh? I guess not. I was just looking at this phone, hoping to make it ring. (now getting more intense, working himself up) We’ve got to find Overstreet! I shudder at the thought that just a few words from him could destroy us. Do you realize how long and hard I’ve worked to make this organization what it is today? We’re the only syndicate in the country that has it’s own health and welfare plan…and takes care of its aged. True, in this business, not many of us get to be aged….but those who do are well taken care of. We can’t let Buddy Overstreet ruin all this, gentlemen.

WENDELL-You’re right, Mr. D.

DEVERE-When I think he’s out there, still free, still alive, after all these weeks!  

(The Overstreet phone rings, but Devere is so worked up, he keeps right on talking.)

DEVERE-(continuing) When I think of all the times we practically had him trapped…

JUNIOR- Dad…

DEVERE- Please don’t interrupt me.(goes right on) How did we let him get away? How can a kid like that keep on outsmarting us. An organization like ours. With all the brains and money…

(The phone rings again.)

JUNIOR (quickly) Dad!

DEVERE-With all the years of…

JUNIOR (interrupting desperately) Dad, the phone is ringing.

DEVERE (angrily) Well, why didn’t you tell me?

(Junior shrugs helplessly as Devere quickly snatches up the phone.

DEVERE-Hello…yes…you located Overstreet?(happily) Where? Just a minute, I’ll write it down..(he quickly jots it down) Good work, Charlie, This means a promotion for you… And four weeks vacation at our company skiing lodge…Don’t worry, we’ve got artificial snow! Goodbye.(He hangs up as Harry and Wendell jump to their feet.)

HARRY-Where is he?

WENDELL-How fast can we get there?

DEVERE-He’s working at a health spa in Angel Springs, Indiana, but you gentlemen may as well sit down. You’re not going anywhere.(Wendell and Harry sit, puzzled.)

DEVERE-I have decided to give the Overstreet Elimination Project to an outside contractor!

WENDELL-  Huh?

HARRY- What?

WENDELL- Why?

HARRY- But-

DEVERE- (sarcastic) Please, no more of your eloquent arguments!  My mind is made up. It’s going to be an outside contractor.

WENDELL- Gee, Mr. D., I never thought you’d take from strangers.

DEVERE- I’m afraid it’s necessary. We failed to many times for it to be an unfortunate series of coincidences. Buddy Overstreet is beginning to know our pattern, our modus operandi.

JUNIOR (to Wendell and Harry) That’s Latin for method of operation, fellers.

WENDELL (glares at him) Thanks.

HARRY- Who you going to get to do the job?

DEVERE- I don’t know yet, but Junior’s been working on it.

(Junior takes some papers from the files.)

JUNIOR- With the cooperation of our Research Department, I’ve compiled three lists. The first are the names of independent contractors whose prices are very reasonable.

DEVERE- Junior, I’m not interested in cheap labor…  I want the best.

JUNIOR- Oh…then in this case, I might as well skip directly to the blue ribbon list. The fourteen who are at the very top of their profession.

DEVERE- Fourteen? That’s a lot to choose from.

JUNIOR- Oh there’s not that many. Eight of them were shot since I made up this list.

DEVERE- Eight of them?

JUNIOR- Some sort of internal quarrel, I believe, about price cutting.

DEVERE- Just read the names of those who are still with us.

JUNIOR- Very well. Eddie the Glove. Nineteen, contracts, seventeen successful, two failures. Twenty-four hour service.

DEVERE- Good, good.

JUNIOR- Bullets Benson. Forty- eight contracts, forty-four successful, four failures.

DEVERE-(thinking) More experience, but not as good a win-lose record.

JUNIOR- Killer Cassidy. Fifty-two contracts, fifty-one successful, one called off because of death by natural causes.

DEVERE- Fifty-one out of fifty-one. That Killer Cassidy is the Sandy Koufax of his profession…Junior, I want Killer Cassidy. Get him at any price.

JUNIOR- Yes, dad, will do.

HARRY- Boy, I’d be honored to meet a guy with a record like that.

JUNIOR- Nobody ever meets him. You know the rules. All outside contractors stay completely anonymous.

DEVERE- That’s right. The only time you ever see a contractor is when you’re  a contractee! ( looks off dreamily with a smile) Ah Buddy Overstreet, soon a stranger will walk into your life…and you out of it.

DISSOLVE TO EXT. RESORT EXERCISE AREA  

CLOSE SHOT BUDDY-DAY

(Buddy, alias George Cosgrove, is leading a class in calisthenics, counting cadence as he jumps and claps his hands over head. He wears white duck trousers and a t-shirt with as interlocked triple-H on chest and, on the back, the legend, “Herrick’s Health Haven.”)

WIDE ANGLE TO INCLUDE BUDDY AND HIS CLASS

(Five assorted females, including Mrs. O’Neil, a bit on the chubby side and the others, fairly attractive. As they follow Buddy, Mrs. O’Neil is slightly out of step

BUDDY- ( as he exercises) One, two, three, four…one, two, three, four,…one, two, three, class halt!

(Buddy, with an extra count, halts with his hands in the air. He looks at his hands, then brings them down self-consciously.)

BUDDY-  Very, good, class. Now, let’s do some deep knee bends. Hands on hip! Place! Ready—

MRS. O’NEIL-

Couldn’t we stop for a snack, Mr. Cosgrove? All I had for lunch was beef broth and crackers and that was at least half an hour ago.

BUDDY-

Now, now, Mrs. O’Neil. Remember one of our slogans at Herrick’s Health Haven. If you watch your figure, so will the men.

MRS. O’NEAL- I’m married---I’m not interested in men.

(The women titter and Buddy laughs good naturedly.)

(Linda’s voice (O.S.)

LINDA- oh, George!

(Buddy turns)

(Linda Herrick, young proprietress of the Health Haven, enters, attired in form-fitting leotard. She is a lithe, attractive health nut and a great advertisement for her product)

LINDA- George, I’ll take over the class. Would you watch the switchboard, please?

BUDDY- Sure, Miss. Herrick.

LINDA- (smiles) Linda.

BUDDY- Yes, Miss Linda.

(He walks off, as she looks after him.

Int. Lobby- Day

As Buddy enters, he passes Mrs. Ferguson, a sweet, elderly lady, who is sitting in a chair,  knitting.

BUDDY- Hello, Mrs. Ferguson. Still knitting,  heh?

MRS. FERGUSON- Yes, it takes my mind off food.

BUDDY- (joking) Watch out all that activity doesn’t make you hungry.

MRS. FERGUSON- (smiles at him) You’re a sweet boy. You have such a nice sense of humor.

BUDDY-  Thank you.

(He crosses to the switchboard which is buzzing impatiently. Buddy plugs in a line. He puts on a head-set.)

BUDDY- Desk…Hello, Mr. Bellamy…(looks at watch) The correct time is one forty-five. That’s right. Four hours and fifteen minutes to dinner. Please, Mr. Bellamy, don’t cry!

(He plugs out and plugs in again.)

BUDDY- Desk…Hello, Mr. Fisher. You want Sycamore…762—41-Mr. Fisher! That’s the bakery! For shame! You’re trying to order cake again!...And there’s no use going into Mr. Bellamy’s room. We found all the fig newtons he was hiding yesterday.

(Now Miss Walker, a fairly attractive woman, has entered during the above and is waiting for Buddy at desk.)

BUDDY- Yes, Miss Walker?

MISS WALKER- Mr. Cosgrove, could I have some writing paper?

BUDDY-  I’m sorry , but you’re not allowed to eat between…(realizes)  Oh, writing paper. I think there’s some right here in—

(His head-set still on, he starts to cross the desk and is snapped back as head-set cord reaches its end. He reacts, rubbing his neck in pain.

MISS WALKER-  Oh Mr. Cosgrove-you poor boy.

BUDDY- I’m alright. Just a little whiplash!

(He hands her some stationery.)

MISS WALKER- Thank you.

(The switchboard starts Buzzing again and Buddy rushes to answer it, not realizing that the wire connecting headset to board has been snapped off at the plug. He plugs in cord at line.)

BUDDY- Hello, Herrick Health Haven! Hello! Hello! You’ll have to talk louder—I can’t hear you! (pounds on switchboard) What’s the matter with this thing?! Hello! Hello! ( finds wire dangling loose) Oh.

(During above, Mailman has arrived with stack of letters which he places on desk and watches Buddy as he fights the switchboard, now blinking like a pinball machine.)

BUDDY- Keep your shirts on! How can I answer when I’m not connected?.

(Frustrated, he pulls the broken headset plug out of switchboard and, in the connection hole, stuffs the two wires. The result is an immediate short circuit. There’s a Flash Of Light, a Puff Of Smoke, a Whining Buzz, then everything goes dead. Buddy removes headset, crosses matter-of-factly to mailman, who has obviously seen Buddy foul things up before.)

BUDDY- Uh---Harold, when you pass the phone company, will you tell them the switchboard’s out of order again?

(Mailman shakes head sadly and Exits. Buddy gets up, crosses to desk as Mrs. Ferguson comes up to him.

MRS.FERGUSON- Mr. Cosgrove, I’m going to my room to rest. (then, confidentially and cute) Do you think you could sneak some milk and crackers up to me?

BUDDY- (hating to turn her down)  Mrs. Ferguson, you know the rules.

MRS. FERGUSON- Yes, but people my age have a bad memory. Let’s say I forgot them.

(Buddy smiles. She is too nice for him to refuse.)

BUDDY- Alright, I’ll sneak up some milk and cookies as soon as I can—but skim milk!

MRS. FERGUSON- Thank you.

BUDDY- Perhaps I shouldn’t ask, but Mrs. Ferguson, why are you in a place like this?

MRS. FERGUSON- Maybe I’m silly, but my grandchildren bought me a pair of toreador pants for Christmas, and I’d like to be able to wear them.

BUDDY- (warming to her every minute) I’ll bet you get a lot of whistles in them.

MRE. FERGUSON- No—only from my grandchildren and I have to buy them the whistles!—I’ll be waiting for you.

(She starts upstairs. Buddy looks after her, smiling. There is an O.S. Sound of Front Door Opening and Buddy turns toward front door)

Angle at front door-Buddy’s P.O

(John Smith, a menacing gangster type, Enters. He is dressed in dark clothes and slouch hat. He carries a valise in one hand and a violin case in the other. He stands at the door for a moment, eyes sweeping the lobby, then slowly starts to cross to desk.)

Single shot- Buddy at desk-his eyes wide with fright.

Two shot at desk- Buddy and Smith

BUDDY- (frightened) Yes, sir?

SMITH- I have a reservation.

BUDDY- Oh? Your name.

SMITH- Smith, John Smith.

(Buddy reacts again. The name is so obviously a phony. Now Smith puts down his suitcase and puts the violin case on desk. Buddy shudders, and silently hands Mr. Smith the register. As Smith signs register, Buddy looks at it. Again, he winces.)

Close shot

(Smith’s handwriting “Cicero, Illinois”.

Back to two shot

(As Smith finishes writing, he looks up at Buddy, catches him practically leaning into his face and glowers at him. Buddy reacts again.

SMITH-(to Buddy) Lets get moving, bud, I don’t expect to be here very long.

BUDDY- (petrified) Yes, sir –er- no, sir. I’ll help you with your luggage.

(Buddy reaches for the violin case, but Smith grabs it.)

SMITH-Leave that alone! Nobody touches that, but me!

BUDDY- Y-yes, sir. I- I was just trying to be of service.

( As Smith watches, Buddy takes the key from box, drops it, catches and juggles it.)

BUDDY- I’ll rake you up to your toom—er room.

SMITH- What’s the matter with you, Bud? Nervous or something?

BUDDY- No, why would you think that?

(Smith just looks at him, contemptuously. He starts off, then stops, indicating the suitcase.)

SMITH- Aren’t you gonna carry my suitcase up to my room?

(Buddy just stands there frozen.)

BUDDY- Oh, I’d—I’d like to, sir, but I can’t lift anything.

SMITH- What??

BUDDY- Well, I don’t get too much to eat around here—I’m kinda weak. Besides, I can’t leave the desk… I’m the only one here.

SMITH- All right, never mind. (glares at him) I’ll see you around.

(Smith picks up his suitcase and walks up the stairs to his room.

CLOSE SHOT-BUDDY

BUDDY- (gulps miserably) Oh boy.

INT. UPSTAIRS CORRIDOR – DAY

Smith, carrying valise and violin case and holding key, is looking for his door number. As he passes a door, it opens and Mrs. Ferguson steps out.

MRS. FERGUSON- Oh, I thought you were Mr. Cosgrove with my milk and cookies. Please pardon me.

SMITH- Sure.

( Mrs. Ferguson notices the violin.)

MRS. FERGUSON- Oh, a violin. How nice, I love music. Will you play for me sometime?

SMITH- I don’t think so lady.

MRS. FERGUSON- (disappointed) Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr….er…

SMITH- Smith, John Smith.

MRS. FERGUSON- Oh, you wouldn’t happen to be related to the John Smith of Brattleboro, Missouri?

SMITH- No I ain’t got no relatives.

MRS. FERGUSON- That’s to bad. Well, I’m Mrs. Ferguson and if you ever get lonely just call on me and we’ll have a nice game of canasta.

( Smith winces a little at this and walks off, as Mrs. Ferguson looks after him just a little bit doubtfully.)

INT. LOBBY- DAY

(Linda, working on some papers behind desk, looks up in surprise as Buddy hurries downstairs, carrying his suitcase.)

LINDA- Where are you going with the valise? Is somebody checking out?

BUDDY- Yes- I am!

LINDA-   Why George? Don’t you like it here?

BUDDY- I do, but if I want to stay healthy, your health farm isn’t the place for me.

LINDA- But I need your help. Please don’t walk out on me.

BUDDY- It’s either that or be carried out on you.

LINDAY- What are you talking about?

BUDDY- That John Smith that checked in. He’s going to kill me.

LINDA- (amazed) Why should anyone want to kill you?

BUDDY- It’s the syndicate. They know I know about Chicken Little.

LINDA- (reacts) Chicken Little?? What does that mean?

BUDDY- I don’t know…but they don’t know I don’t know that!

LINDA- (shaking her head as if to clear it)  George, calm down please. Even if someone were trying to harm you, why do you assume it’s our guests?...this John Smith?

BUDDY- Did you see him? John Smith! If he’s John Smith, I’m Pochohontas! And he’s carrying a violin case! The only instrument in that case is the kink that goes ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack!

LINDA- George, I think you’ve

 been watching too many movies on the late show. Nobody carries guns in violin cases anymore.

BUDDY- I don’t know. The whole thing just adds up to trouble.

LINDA- Look…if you’re so worried about what’s in that violin case, why don’t we just go up to his room and see?

BUDDY- (picking up bag) Oh no! I’m leaving while I’m still here.

LINDA- But it might be a violin! And now’s the time to find out! Mr. Smith’s in the steam room.

BUDDY- If I know him, he’s got it with him.

LINDA- (pulling him) Come on. I’ll show you you’re just imagining things.

(With Buddy still holding suitcase, Linda drags him toward stairs as we;

                       WIPE

INT. SMITH’S ROOM- DAY

(As Linda and Buddy enter and look around. It’s a standard resort-type room, with several articles of men’s clothing draped over bed and chair. The violin case is not in evidence.

BUDDY- It’s not here.

LINDA- It has to be. He wouldn’t take a violin to the steam room.

BUDDY- He would if all it played was the Funeral March!

LINDA- (looking around) It’s got to be here some place.

(sound O.S. The door slowly opens.)

BUDDY- It’s him!

(He dives partially under bed, as Linda turns and looks off.)

ANGLE AT FRONT DOOR

(It opens another few inches and Mrs. Ferguson puts her head in. She sees Linda.)

MRS. FERGUSON- Oh, excuse me.

BUDDY- (as he gets out from under bed) Mrs. Ferguson, what are you doing here?

MRS. FERGUSON-I just wanted to talk to that nice Mr. Smith. I have a feeling that he does come from Brattleboro, Missouri.

BUDDY- He’s…he’s not here and we’re…er…er

LINDA- (coming to his rescue)…tidying up his room.

BUDDY- Yeah, I was just cleaning under the bed.

MRS. FERGUSON- Well, excuse me.

(she exits.)

BUDDY- She’s a nice lady.

LINDA-NODS, THEN;) Now where could that violin be?

(She crosses to closet, over;)

LINDA- You check the bureau drawers.

(As Buddy rummages through the bureau drawers, Linda goes to closet and reappears with violin case.)

LINDA- I found it

( She crossed to bed and deposits violin case on bed.)

CLOSE TWO SHOT – BUDDY AND LINDA

BUDDY- (nervously) Well, what are we waiting for? Open it up.

LINDA-(trying) I can’t. It’s locked.

BUDDY-  Let me try.

(He desperately tries to force the violin case open.)

(O.S. we again HEAR SOUND of door slowly opening.)

BUDDY- (without looking behind him) Please Mrs. Ferguson, we’re busy now.

ANGLE AT DOOR

(Mr. Smith, wearing bathrobe, enters!

BACK TO BUDDY

BUDDY- (still working away at violin case) Don’t you think you ought to go back to your room, Mrs. Ferguson?

(Smith just stands silently and menacingly, watching. Linda now turns, sees it is Mr. Smith. She reacts, taps Buddy on shoulder.)

BUDDY-I’m trying! I’ll get it open!

LINDA- (weakly) Oh, good afternoon, Mr. Smith.

(At this, Buddy, who is now holding the violin case, almost drops it. He reacts and turns slowly and fearfully.)

BUDDY- I was just trying to open it so I could clean it.

SMITH- Yeah. I got a hunch, fellow, you know what’s inside.

BUDDY- Oh, no, honest…and if you’d like some chocolate fudge cake, we’ll make an exception and bring you some right now. C’mon, Linda.

(He starts to lead Linda out, but Smith stops them.)

SMITH-Both of you stay right where you are.

(He takes key from pocket of his bathrobe, and opens the violin case. He takes out a violin and turns with the head pointing toward Linda. Buddy jumps in front of her as a shield.)

BUDDY- Don’t! She doesn’t know about Chicken…(reacts) It’s a violin!

SMITH- A twenty five thousand dollar Amati. That’s why I gotta be so careful with it.

(He inspects it)

Well, it looks like you didn’t damage it.

BUDDY- Mr. Smith, believe me, it was all a misunderstanding.

SMITH- Fine, but you can tell me about it some other time. I came here for a quiet place to get some practice in…so if you’ll excuse me…

(He starts to tune it up as Linda and Buddy go to the door.)

LINDA-(sotto, at door) You see, George, there wasn’t anything to worry about.

BUDDY- I guess not. These days, very few people get shot with a violin!

INT. LOBBY – DAY

(Buddy is back at the switchboard. It buzzes and he plugs in the light.)

BUDDY- Desk…Yes, Mr. Fisher…Sycamore four two eight one…(stops) Mr. Fisher, you know that’s the  ice-cream parlor! Look, try to hold out. It’s only two and a half hours to dinner.

(Buddy pulls cord out of socket and sort of smiles, now comes INTO SHOT.

LINDA- George, it’s nice to see you back at work. I hated the thought of losing you.

BUDDY- (smiles) For a while I thought I was losing me!

LINDA- Well, now that everything is fine, I hope you’ll stay with us for a long time.

BUDDY- (happily) I hope so to. I enjoy it here. It’s nice to be able to help people get healthy and-

(The switchboard BUZZES.)

BUDDY- ( to Linda) Excuse me. (plugs in line) Desk…Oh, hello, Mrs. Ferguson. I’ll bring up the you-know-what as soon as I can.

(He winks at Linda)

BUDDY- (To Linda) Just some skim milk and cookies.

(Linda smiles understandingly.)

INT. MRS. FERGUSON’S ROOM

(She is at the phone, has a little black box in her hand)

MRS. FERGUSON-  You can do that later, Mr. Cosgrove. Right now I would like to make a long distance call, please.

INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION

BUDDY- Of course,. What number do you want?

MRS. FERGUSON- (as she looks in book) Area code two one seven-four three six-eight nine two one.

BUDDY- (as he writes it down) Two one seven-four three six-eight nine two one…lonely for your grandchildren and want to talk to them, huh?

MRS. FERGUSON- No, this is a gentleman friend of mine.

BUDDY- (smiles) Oh, I’ll put the call right through.

(He starts to dial, as he dials, he speaks to Linda.)

BUDDY- Mrs. Ferguson has a boyfriend. Isn’t that sweet?

CLOSE SHOT

(A red phone on desk RINGS. A hand comes INTO SHOT and picks it up. The CAMERA PULLS BACK and we see it is Mr. Devere in his office. Junior, Wendell and Harry are in the room with him.)

DEVERE- Hello.

Buddy- Is this two one seven-four three six-eight nine two one?

DEVERE- That’s right.

BUDDY- Just a minute, sir. I have a call for you.

(As Buddy plugs in Mrs. Ferguson)

BUDDY- (cutely) Mrs. Ferguson, I have your friend on the phone.

MRS. FERGUSON- Please don’t listen, Mr. Cosgrove. This is very personal.

BUDDY- I understand. (he connects both parties) Go ahead.

(He disconnects himself.)

MRS. FERGUSON- Hello, Mr. Devere? This is Killer Cassidy!!!

FADE OUT

FADE IN

INT. DEVERE’S OFFICE-DAY

(Devere is on phone continuing conversation with Junior, Wendell and Harry as they were before commercial.)

CLOSE SHOT – DEVERE

DEVERE- (reacting incredulously) You’r Killer Cassidy?

INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION NOW, AS NEEDED

MRS. FERGUSON- That’s right.

DEVERE- (so upset, he reverts to gangsterism) This must be a bad connection… you sound like a dame!

MRS. FERGUSON- I’m not a dame, I’m a lady.

DEVERE-(reacts) Just a minute. (he covers mouthpiece, then to others) Killer Cassidy is a woman!

WENDELL- Huh?

HARRY- What?

JUNIOR- I’m afraid I should have checked out that asterisk after the name.

DEVERE- (glares at him, then back into phone) Now look, Killer… I mean, now look, lady. Are you sure you can handle this job?

MRS. FERGUSON- Of course I can. And that’s why I called you. A very uncouth person just checked into this hotel with a violin case. You didn’t assign anyone else to my contract, did you?

DEVERE- No.

MRS. FERGUSON- That’s good. I never work in collaboration. There’s always too much bickering about who should receive top billing.

DEVERE- All I’m interested in is how long is it gonna take?

MRS. FERGUSON- I’ll finish it today. I don’t like to stay away too long from the grandchildren.

DEVERE- (reacts strongly, then into phone) Excuse me. (to Junior, emphasizing each word) Junior, your killer is also a grandmother!

JUNIOR- Come to think of it, Dad, there were two asterisks after her name.

(Devere glares at him, then;)

DEVERE- (into phone resignedly) All right, as soon as you finish the job, let me know. Goodbye.

(Devere hangs up phone, angrily.)

DEVERE- A grandmother! What’s she going to knock Buddy Overstreet off with? Knitting needles?!.

EXTREME CLOSE SHOT

(A box that says; ACME PORTABLE HAIR DRYER)

(Mrs. Ferguson’s hands come into SHOT and they open box. We see the gun-shaped portable hand hair dryer. CAMERA PULLS BACK as Mrs. Ferguson takes out the hair dryer, and opens it to reveal a cartridge chamber. Now she picks up phone.)

(BUDDY’S VOICE ON FILTER)

Yes, Mrs. Ferguson?

MRS. FERGUSON- George, I’m ready for the milk and crackers.

INTERCUT CONVERSATION, AS NEEDED

BUDDY- (at switchboard) I’ll bring them up right away. (cutely) By the way, Mrs. Ferguson, did you have a nice conversation with your gentleman friend?

MRS. FERGUSON- Oh, yes, we’re getting along fine. In fact, I’m going to call him back later.

BUDDY- That’s nice. I’ll be glad to place the call for you whenever you want. I’m on duty ‘til six.

MRS. FERGUSON- Thank you, but I think it will be after you’re through…and when you bring up the milk and crackers just walk in. I’ll be waiting for you.

BUDDY- All right.

AT DESK

(Buddy hangs up, calls to Linda who is working at the desk.)

BUDDY- Linda, would you watch the switchboard please? I want to bring Mrs. Ferguson her milk and crackers.

LINDA-All right. You really like to do things for her, don’t you, George?

BUDDY- Yes. She’s so sweet and old-fashioned. There aren’t many in the world like her anymore.

(Buddy starts for kitchen.)

INT. DEVERE’S OFFICE-DAY

(Devere is pacing furiously.)

WENDELL- You ought to try to calm down, Mr. D.

DEVERE- I don’t like it. I just don’t like it. It’s against all my ideals of American motherhood.

HARRY- But dames have been knocking off their husbands for years.

DEVERE- Yes, but that’s personal. I just resent them crowding into every line of business endeavor.

JUNIOR- Dad, don’t you think your attitude is a bit behind the times. Instead of thinking logically, you’re thinking sentimentally.

DEVERE- Maybe I am, but I’m not ashamed of it. I’ve been married to your mother for thirty years and I’ve never even asked her to so much as oil a gun for me! (reaches for phone) I’m going to call it off.

WENDELL- Mr. D, a contract’s a contract.

DEVERE- You’re right. (takes hand away from phone, sighs) This is really a difficult problem in ethics. Junior, consult our legal department. See if they can find some ethical way to weasel out of the contract.

INT. HOTEL CORRIDOR-UPSTAIRS

(Buddy, with a tray covered by a napkin, is on his way to Mrs. Ferguson’s room. A door opens and Mr. Fisher, a chubby, wistful, little man puts his head out.)

MR. FISHER- George, that’s not food you’re carrying, is it?

BUDDY- Oh no, Mr. Fisher. It’s…er..just some mineral water and wheat germ supplement.

MR. FISHER-(winces) This place must be getting to me. I could have sworn I smelled cookies.

(He goes back into his room. Buddy looks after him compassionately, then turns and knocks on Mrs. Ferguson’s door.

MRS. FERGUSON- Come in!

INT. MRS. FERGUSON’S ROOM

(As Buddy enters, Mrs. Ferguson is seated in a chair. She has her knitting needles out and a skein of wool, as if she were going to start knitting a sweater. Another empty chair is opposite her. The other chair is positioned so that the back of the chair is to the dresser on which the hairdryer gun is placed.)

BUDDY- (indicating tray) Here it is, Mrs. Ferguson.

MRS. FERGUSON- Oh, thank you. Just put it down on that table, please.

(She points to a little end table and Buddy puts it down.)

BUDDY- (starts for door) Well, enjoy your snack.

MRS. FERGUSON-(calling) Oh, George, could you help me please? I’ve got to get this wool wound.

BUDDY- All right, Mrs. Ferguson, but I’ve some other things to do. It won’t take too long will it?

MRS. FERGUSON- Oh, it will all be over in a few minutes…sit down, please.

(She indicates the chair opposite her. Buddy sits, holds out his hands and Mrs. Ferguson puts the skein of wool on his hands and starts to wind it into a ball. But every once in a while, deftly puts a strand of wool higher on Buddy’s hands until they are almost tied, over the following speech;)

BUDDY- Gee, when I was a kid I used to do this for my grandmother. She never wound wool this way.

MRS. FERGUSON- Well, I’m knitting a very special kind of sweater.

(By now, Buddy’s arms are pretty well tied.)

MRS. FERGUSON- Just sit there, I want to go and look at the pattern again.

(She goes to the dresser, takes the hairdryer gun and points it at Buddy.

BUDDY-( Speaking, without turning his head) You’ll have to hurry, Mrs. Ferguson.

MRS. FERGUSON- I’m doing this as fast as I can.

(She now pulls the trigger. Nothing happens.

BUDDY- Please, I haven’t much time.

MRS. FERGUSON- (aiming gun again) I’m sure you haven’t.

(Again she pulls trigger, but nothing happens. She then, impatiently bangs dryer with heel of hand and as Buddy, worrying about the delay, turns around, she quickly lowers dryer so that she seems to be examining it.)

BUDDY- Mrs. Ferguson, I thought you were looking at a pattern? What are you doing with that hairdryer?

MRS. FERGUSON- Oh, I just noticed it was broken and you don’t know how important it is to me.

BUDDY- (smiling) I understand. You want to look your best for that gentleman friend of yours. Right?

MRS. FERGUSON-Yes.

(She opens top of dryer, masking action from Buddy.)

MRS. FERGUSON- Oh, I see what’s wrong. It’s the spring. The end has snapped off.

BUDDY- Oh well, that’s no problem. I’ll get you another one.

MRS. FERGUSON-Would you, George? I’m just lost without my dryer.

(She starts to hand him  spring over this line and he tries to reach it, but his hands are still tied with the wool.

BUDDY- (laughs) I’m afraid you’ll have to unravel me first.

MRS. FERGUSON- Of course.

(She helps him loose, over;

BUDDY- As soon as I get a chance, I’ll run down to the hardware store.

MRS. FERGUSON- Thank you ,George. You have no idea how helpful you are to me.

(By this time, Buddy is free of the wool and starts to EXIT. Over;

BUDDY- WHY NOT? You’re my favorite guest.

(He exits.)

 MRS. FERGUSON- (Now revealing her anger, stamps her foot) Oh Fudge!

INT. DEVERE’S OFFICE- DAY

(Devere is on intercom phone, with Wendell and Harry nearby. Junior is out of the office.)

DEVERE- That’s right…Mrs. Ferguson… In Angel Springs, Indiana. Put the call through immediately.

(He hangs up intercom phone.)

HARRY- But, Mr. D. it’s been less than an hour since she called.

DEVERE- I know-but remember, gentlemen, I didn’t get where I am today just because I’m intelligent and smart.

WENDELL- That’s right Mr. D.

(Mr. Devere reacts with just a little glare at him.)

DEVERE- I’ve got intuition! And right now I’ve got a sick feeling in my stomach about this whole thing- the same sick feeling I get when I see an honest blackjack dealer!...Something’s wrong and-

THE BUZZER SOUNDS. Devere picks up intercom phone.

DEVERE- Yes, put her on…hello? (painfully) Mrs. Ferguson? How are you doing?

INT. MRS. FERGUSON’S ROOM-MRS. FERGUSONON PHONE-DAY

MRS. FERGUSON- There’s been a little delay, Mr. D. The spring broke in my hairdryer.

INT. DEVERE’S OFFICE

DEVERE- (incredulously) The spring broke in your hairdryer?!

INT.FERGUSON’S ROOM

MRS. FERGUSON- (reassuringly) That’s right, but there’s nothing to worry about. Buddy is going to get me a new one. I’ll take care of him as soon as he gets back.

INT. DEVERE’S OFFICE

DEVERE- Yes, you do that and don’t forget to check your eyebrows and cuticals!

(He hangs up angrily.)

DEVERE- (sarcastically) Gentlemen, there’s been a slight delay. The spring in her hairdryer broke.

(Wendell and Harry exchange puzzled looks.)

WENDELL- What?

DEVERE- Never mind. I just know I'm getting nervous about this—very nervous.

HARRY- So am I, Mr. D. You know, if she knocks off Buddy Overstreet, it’s not gonna be good for the syndicate’s reputation.

WENDELL- Yeah, Imagine what our associates are going to say when they find out we had to hire a grandmother to do it.

DEVERE- You’re right. We built up a public image. We can’t let it be destroyed. But what can we do? A contract’s a contract.

(At this moment, Junior comes running in, carrying a file card.)

JUNIOR- Dad, I think we found it. A legal way out of the contract.

DEVERE- My stomach was right. This Killer Cassidy is a phony.

JUNIOR- No, her credentials are absolutely authentic, but there’s one fact that might help us. She completed her last contract in Nineteen Thirty Two!

DEVERE- (incredulous) 1932?!

JUNIOR- Yes, I seemed to have overlooked another asterisk…and since she hasn’t worked at her profession for more than thirty years, our legal department believes that the contract can be broken on the grounds that the statute of Limitations applies.

(Devere, Wendell and Harry stand up, over;)

DEVERE- Let’s go, gentlemen. We’re flying to Angle Springs, and Junior, put an asterisk after your own name. It means that your allowance for this week has been cancelled and you’re to be in bed every night at exactly nine o’clock!

(As Junior reacts, Devere, followed by Wendell and Harry, march out.

EXT. PRIVATE PLANE IN FLIGHT- DAY (STOCK)

INT. MRS. FERGUSON’S ROOM- DAY

Mrs. Ferguson is at the table, cleaning her “hair dryer”, going through all the motions of cleaning a gun. KNOCK on the door.

MRS. FERGUSON- (sweetly) Come in.

(Buddy enters.)

BUDDY- Sorry I took so long, Mrs. Ferguson.

MRS. FERGUSON- That’s all right, George. Did you get it?

BUDDY- You bet. But it wasn’t easy. I had to go clear into Fayetville, and even there, they didn’t have it at the hardware store. Do you know where I got it?- In the gun shop!

MRS. FERGUSON- (mock surprise) No.

BUDDY- (as he hands her the spring) It must be a really old-fashioned hair dryer.

MRS. FERGUSON- Yes, but it gets the job done.

(She takes spring and starts to insert it in dryer.

BUDDY- Well, I’d better get back to work.

(He starts to exit as Mrs. Ferguson calls after him.

MRS. FERGUSON- Oh, George! Could you do me another favor? Please check the drapes. They don’t seem to be closing correctly.

BUDDY- I’m sorry, Mrs. Ferguson, but I’ll have to do that later. I just have time to catch my three o’clock exercise class.

(He exits.)

MRS. FERGUSON- (angrily) Oh, double fudge!!

(She inserts spring in hair dryer.)

EXT. HOTEL

(A black limousine pulls up and Devere, Wendell and Harry get out.)

INT. LOBBY

(Linda, at desk, as the three enter.)

LINDA- May I help you?

DEVERE- Yes, we’d like to see Mrs. Ferguson.

LINDA- She’s in room 204, but—

DEVERE- Thank you.

(The three start to march upstairs, leaving Linda looking after them just a bit puzzled.

FLIP TO;

INT. MRS. FERGUSON’S ROOM

(There is another KNOCK on door. Mrs. Ferguson grabs hair dryer, calls;)

MRS. FERGUSON- Come in.

(The door opens and Devere, Wendell and Harry march in.)

DEVERE- (curtly) Mrs. Ferguson? I’m Mr. D, and these gentlemen are my associates

MRS. FERGUSON- How do you do. Won’t you sit down? (they remain standing) I’d like to offer you gentlemen something, but all I have is mineral water. Too bad I’m not at home. My elderberry wine is delicious.

DEVERE- Mrs. Ferguson, I’ll come right to the point. I have decided to cancel your contract.

MRS. FERGUSON- But you can’t. You know the regulations. A contract can’t be cancelled until the contractee or contractor is eliminated.

DEVERE- Look, you’re a nice, little old lady. Forget the contract and I’ll pay you in full anyway.

MRS. FERGUSON- Oh no, I couldn’t do that. My conscience would never let me rest nights.

DEVERE- I’m warning you. I can break that contract, legally. You haven’t completed a job since 1932. (then almost pleading) Anyway, I don’t get it. At your age, why do you want to work anyway?

MRS. FERGUSON- It’s hard for a man to understand, but it’s a problem all we women eventually face. There I was, at the top of my profession, then I got married. For a while I was happy, making a home for my husband, raising a family…then they grew up, drifted away…and suddenly there was nothing for me to do!

WENDELL- (touched) She’s got a point. My mother went back to booking numbers for the same reason.

HARRY- (also touched) Gee, I got to remember to visit my old lady more often.

(Devere glares at them)

MRS. FERGUSON- I wish I had sons like you two, but to my family, I’m nothing. Just a babysitter for the grandchildren. That’s why I’ve got to prove myself. Still show that I’m of some use to the world.

DEVERE- Mrs. Cassidy—

(She corrects him.)

MRS. FERGUSON- Killer Cassidy.

DEVERE- All right, Killer Cassidy. I’m sorry about your problems, but I’m afraid we’ll have to take over and eliminate Buddy Overstreet ourselves, but I’ll…

(at this point the DOOR OPENS and Buddy enters.)

BUDDY- Mrs. Ferguson, now I’ve got time to finish those dra…draaa—

(He stops, reacts, as he sees them and makes a U-turn and dashes back out of the door.)

DEVERE- It’s Overstreet! Get him!

MRS. FERGUSON- Please don’t touch him! He’s mine!

(Wendell and Harry race to door, try to push through together and get stuck. They finally make it, with the help of a shove from Devere. Wendell and Harry race off.)

DEVERE- Sorry grandma!

(Devere rushes after Wendell and Harry. Mrs. Ferguson goes into hall and can be seen calling after them.)

MRS. FERGUSON- Touch one hair on that boy’s head and I’ll sue! I’ll take you to the Supreme Court!

INT. LOBBY – AT STAIRS

(Linda is going upstairs as Wendell and Harry RACE down past her. She turns and finds herself blocking Devere.)

DEVERE- Which way did he go?!

LINDA- WHAT?

Wendell-(pointing) He’s out there, Mr. D!

DEVERE- Well, don’t stand there! Go after him!

(_Wendell and Harry race out exit to exercise area. Devere brushes past Linda with an adlib apology and follows them out.)

LINDA- (wide-eyed) They had guns!

(As she stares in disbelief, Mrs. Ferguson comes SCOOTING DOWN.

LINDA- Don’t go outside, Mrs. Ferguson! They’ve got guns!

MRS. FERGUSON- (shows hair dryer) This isn’t a cookie-cutter, my dear.

EXT. EXERCISE YARD- DAY

(Wendell and Harry, guns drawn, stand looking around for Buddy as Devere hurries in.)

DEVERE- He’s here someplace! Spread out!

(Wendell and Harry move warily to a small building on far side which contains steam and sauna baths. The building is adjacent to a high fence which separates yard from outside road. A large trampoline is located in corner formed by building and fence.)

CLOSE SHOT- AT DOOR OF BATH BUILDING

(as Wendell, still holding gun, enters shot and opens door. Seated just inside is Fisher with a large cake on his lap.)

FISHER- (fearfully) Don’t shot! It’s just a little sponge cake!

WIDE ANGLE

(Abandoning his cake, Fisher races across yard and exits into main building. Mrs. Ferguson, who has entered, advances toward bath building with dryer and FIRES a warning shot toward Wendell.)

MRS. FERGUSON- All right, gentlemen. Drop your weapons! I told you Buddy Overstreet is my  responsibility.

CLOSE SHOT- BUDDY

(crouched behind a bush, looking desperately for a means of escape.)

WIDER ANGLE- DEVERE, WENDELL AND HARRY

WENDELL- What’ll we do, Mr. D?

DEVERE- What have you got guns for?! Get rid of her!

(Wendell raises his gun, but Mrs. Ferguson shoots it out of his hand. Devere, Wendell, Harry and Mrs. Ferguson all dive for cover and a gunfight begins, with Wendell using a second gun.

CLOSE SHOT- BUDDY

(reacting to the “gang war”. He starts to crawl through bushes to bath building.

CLOSE SHOTS

(Wendell, Harry, Mrs. Ferguson and Devere during fight—with Devere participating in an advisory capacity only.

MED. CLOSE SHOT – BUDDY

(emerging from bushes at end of bath building. He climbs up trellis to roof, obviously intending to cross roof and jump to safety.)

WIDER ANGLE- THE GUNFIGHT

(Buddy, in b.g., can be seen crawling across roof. Devere spots him and points.)

DEVERE- There hi is! Get him!

ANOTHER ANGLE- TOWARD DROP

(AS Buddy gets to feet and runs, with Wendell, Harry and Mrs. Ferguson all FIRING at him. Buddy loses his balance and falls forward off roof.)

ANOTHER ANGLE- BUDDY

Buddy (DOUBLE)  lands on trampoline and flies over fence.

EXT. OTHER SIDE OF FENCE

(Buddy has landed in an open truck marked “ACE PHOSPEROUS COMPANY.” Truck pulls rapidly away from CAMERA as we;

FADE OUT;

FADE IN;

EXT. OTHER SIDE OF FENCE- DAY

(Devere,Wendell, Harry and Mrs, Ferguson have evidently been hunting in vain for Buddy. (No weapons are visible.)

DEVERE- (disgustedly) See what a woman does to business?! We were so busy fighting among ourselves, Overstreet got away.

WENDELL- We’ll find him, Mr. D. I got the license number of the truck.

HARRY- ( vying for importance) And I got the name of the owner. Ace Phosperous.

DEVERE- (sneering) Boys—you think he’s going to live in that truck? You know his technique. He’ll disappear—vanish. He’ll be just another face in the crowd.

EXT.RURAL ROAD- NIGHT

(Buddy is walking down dark road, glowing brightly in the dark. As he trudges slowly away from us, we;

FADE OUT