Paris - When It Sizzles

long shots of tiny figures racing
through the fear-gripped city.

When suddenly in a deserted alley
we see, seated on a garbage can,

licking its wet rain-bedraggled fur,
close shot, the cat!
Now, as we build
step by step to the climax,

the music soars.
And there, totally oblivious
of the torrential rain
pouring down upon them,

the two fall happily and tenderly
into each other's arms.

And as the audience drools
with sublimated sexual pleasure,

the two enormous and highly paid
heads come together

for that ultimate
and inevitable moment.

The final, earth-moving,
studio-rent-paying, theatre-filling,
Fade out. The end.
That's it. 138 pages. Why make it
longer? We'd only have to cut later.

- Mr Benson...
- Yes?

This screenplay,
when does it have to be finished?

Well, let's see, today is Friday.
My friend and, in this case, patron
and producer Mr Alexander Meyerheim

arrives in Paris from Cannes
at ten o'clock on...

...Sunday morning.
Which happens to be Bastille Day.

Perfect! 10:01 we hand him
the completed script,

and then you and I celebrate. Drink
champagne, dance in the streets,

whatever they do on July 14th.
You're very kind but I have a date.
You haven't written anything at all?

You have a date?
You mean this entire movie
has to be done in two days?

Miss Simpson, if you aren't up to
your part of the job, tell me now.

- I can find someone else.
- No, I didn't mean that.