The sound of heavy rain. It's day-time but dull enough to need the lights on.

JOE's typewriter is no longer on the table, but closed and standing on end on the floor.

HE's alone in the great room, playing solitaire.

MAX is at the organ, wearing his white gloves, playing.

HE looks up at the audience, breaks off from his game.



JOE

In December, the rains came.

One great big package, over-sized, like everything else in California;

And it came right through the roof of my room above the garage.

So she had me moved into the main house.

Into what Max called " The room of the husbands."

And on a clear day, the theory was, you could see Catalina.

And little by little I worked through to the end of the script.

At which point I might have left;

Only by then those two boys from the finance company had traced my car and towed it away;

And I hadn't seen one single dollar of cash money since I arrived.



(HE resumes his game;

All of a sudden NORMA sweeps out of her room and down the stairs.

SHE's holding a fat typescript in her hand. SHE snaps at MAX.)



NORMA

Stop that!



(MAX stops playing.)



Today's the day.



JOE

What do you mean?



NORMA

Max is going to deliver the script to Paramount.



JOE

You're really going to give it to De Mille?



NORMA

I've just spoken with my astrologer.

She read De Millle's horoscope; she read mine.



JOE

Did she read the script?



NORMA

De Mille is Leo; I'm Scorpio.

Mars is transiting Jupiter, and today is the day of closest conjunction.



JOE

Oh, well, that's all right, then.



NORMA

Max



MAX

Yes, Madame



(SHE hands the typescript to MAX.)



NORMA

Make sure it goes to Mr. De Mille in person.



(HE leaves the house by the front door. There's a silence;

NORMA moves up and down in a state of heightened emotion;

JOE is steeling himself to broach a difficult subject.)



JOE

Well....



NORMA

Great day.



JOE

It's been real interesting.



NORMA

Yes... hasn't it?



JOE

I want to thank you for trusting me with your baby.



NORMA

Not at all, it is I who should thank you.



JOE

Will you call and let me know as soon as you have some news?



(NORMA frowns; SHE turns to him, her expression bewildered.)



NORMA

Call? Where?



JOE

My apartment.



NORMA

Oh, but, you couldn't possibly think of leaving now, Joe.



JOE

Norma, the script is finished.



NORMA

No, Joe. No. It's just the beginning,

It's just the first draft: I couldn't dream of letting you go, I need your support.



JOE

Well, I can't stay.



NORMA

You'll stay on with full salary, of course...



JOE

Oh, Norma, it's not the money.



(NORMA now has a look of genuine panic on her face,

And JOE sees that some reassurance is essential.)



Yes, of course, I'll stay until we get some sort of news back from Paramount.



(HE's on his feet now, and NORMA grips his hand tightly for a moment.)



NORMA

Thank you, thank you, Joe.



(SHE releases his hand and moves off leaving him a little shaken by this turn of events,

His expression rueful. HE turns to the audience.)



JOE

So, Max wheeled out that foreign bus

Brushed the leopardskin upholstery.

He trundled along to Paramount

To hand Cecil B. our hopeless opus.

My work was over

I was feeling no pain

Locked up like John the Baptist.

Last Update: December, 24th 2013