Scene 17: "When Do We Get Paid?"
Motorhead:
I hear birds!
Don:
Calm down! You're supposed to be calm, you know like, it's gonna work yourself into a frenzy.
JCB:
Would you like to cope?
Motorhead:
I hear birds in here.
JCB:
I want a beer, Motorhead.
Motorhead:
Yeah?
Don:
Here they come.
JCB:
It's about time.
Motorhead:
Frank looks tired. He musta just done an interview.
Rance Muhammitz:
Hello lads. Shall we begin?
Interviewer (Pamela):
I should get their names first for the big story I'm going to write!
Don:
My name is Don Preston, also known as Dom DeWilde or Biff Debris, depending upon the spiritual evolvement of the role I'm supposed to play.
JCB:
I'm Jimmy Carl Black, I'm the Indian of the group.
Interviewer (Pamela):
What group?
JCB:
Oh, forget it.
Motorhead:
I'm Euclid James Motorhead Sherwood. And I came in last in the Baritone Sax category of Down Beat Readers Poll for 1970.
Rance Muhammitz:
Gentlemen. I'm sure you're all aware of the fact that we are in an imaginary town.
Motorhead:
Sure. I could tell right away.
Don:
Right. The vibes . . .
JCB:
What's your name supposed to be?
Rance Muhammitz:
My real name is Theodore Bikel, but for the purposes of the movie you must call me Rance Muhammitz!
Don:
Right on, Rance! The functioning of our senses has been spiritually impaired and chemically corrupted by the fake artificial food coloring.
Motorhead:
Yeah.
JCB:
Listen, man, I just wanna know two things . . . Is there any beer in this fake night club, and when do we get paid?
Interviewer:
What sort of beer do you drink, Jimmy Carl Black? (This is good human-interest material for the big story I'm going to write!) Let me rephrase that question: What kind of beer do you drink, Jimmy Carl Black?
JCB:
Any old kind I can get my mouth on, honey, don't make a shit to me!
Rance Muhammitz:
Gent— Gentleman, gentleman, in a moment or two you'll be able to get your hands on all the imaginary beer that you want. For the moment, I would like to explain some of the things that you'll all be doing in this movie.
Don:
I've been wondering about that.
Rance Muhammitz:
For Sherwood . . .
Motorhead:
Yes?
Rance Muhammitz:
We have a vacuum cleaner scheduled . . .
Motorhead:
A vacuum cleaner?
Rance Muhammitz:
And a potential epileptic seizure during a production number later on.
Motorhead:
A vacuum cleaner! Oh . . .
Rance Muhammitz:
I thought the two of you would like to get acquainted. It says here that you are supposed to be in love.
Interviewer (Pamela):
This abnormal relationship will be great for the big story I'm going to write!
Rance Muhammitz:
Ah, maybe, may— maybe, maybe just good friends.
Motorhead:
Yes?
Rance Muhammitz:
Now, Mr. Preston! You will be playing a highly evolved and spiritual role, so I guess we'll have to call you Biff Debris for the rest of the movie.
Don:
What am I supposed to do?
Rance Muhammitz:
It says you're my nephew. You are wise because you've traveled the world. You've been to Paris. To London. To Berlin. You uh, know the ropes. You meditate. You practice Yoga. Yo play the synthesizer. You operate a fake light show in this imaginary night club. You will be Motorhead's guru!
Motorhead:
Guru!
Rance Muhammitz:
And what is more, Jimmy Carl Black owes you five dollars!
Don:
I thought I was going to get a chance to act . . . to emote . . . wear a big cape and black hat.
Rance Muhammitz:
Wait a minute. It says here that you get to wear a big cape . . . and a black hat and you can turn into a monster anytime you want to.
Interviewer (Pamela):
The very presence of a monster person in this imaginary town has a definite bearing on the news value of the TV Special they will make from the big story I'm going to write.
JCB:
Listen, man, I just wanna know one thing . . . when do we get paid?
Rance Muhammitz:
Now look, look, look, look, look, don't you even care what you do?
JCB:
So long as I get some beer and I get paid, you can make me do anything. I'm professional!
Rance Muhammitz:
I'm deeply offended by your lack of artistic sense.
JCB:
Look here, Muhammitz, or whatever the fuck they call you. I don't even give a shit, man, I got five fuckin' kids at home and . . . can you lend me a coupla bucks until the end of the week? Who are you anyway?
Rance Muhammitz:
Oh, she writes for the imaginary rock & roll newspaper in San Francisco.
JCB:
San Francisco?
Rance Muhammitz:
She's my niece. My niece.
JCB:
I didn't know she was a blood relation. Just till the weekend?
Don:
Wait a minute. It says here I'm supposed to lend you five bucks so you can owe it to me.
JCB:
Thanks, Donnie.
Don:
But, uh . . . Just a minute, will ya? You got any bread?
Motorhead:
You got any bread? SNORK, SNORK.
Vacuum Cleaner (Dick Barber):
SNORK, SNORK.
Interviewer (Pamela):
What's he saying?
Motorhead:
He wants to know if you can lend him a coupla bucks till the weekend.
Interviewer (Pamela):
What's he saying?
Motorhead & JCB:
He wants to know if you can lend him a coupla bucks till the weekend.
Interviewer (Pamela):
I have to go now and write the big story I'm going to write.
Motorhead:
Vacuum cleaner!
Interviewer (Pamela):
I'll send you a copy . . .
Don:
Bye.
JCB:
Bye.
Interviewer (Pamela):
You have any idea where you gonna be living in the next six months? Ah!
JCB:
She fuck?
