Not "The Day the Clown Cried"

The "historic essay" and found fragments of the "lost screenplay"of the non-existent "Hitler's Bellhop" by (not!) "Jerry Lewis"

Written in 1998. First published in In My Shorts: Hitler's Bellhop and Other Stories (Buffalo Avenue Books, 2015)

"Charlie has his Hitler film. I want mine!”

HITLER'S BELLOP, The Lost Screenplay

            Late one evening in 1967, Jerry sat in the private projection room of his Beverly Hills home, screening for perhaps the one hundredth time, Charlie Chaplin’s classic The Great Dictator. With him was longtime friend, film historian and critic Mel Melman. As was always the case when he watched the Little Tramp at work, Melman later wrote, “he was mesmerized, his gaze locked upon the screen as he watched, no, absorbed Charlie’s antics. Though as different in their cinematic and comedic approaches as night and day, he’d always found inspiration in the work of his predecessor. He saw in Charlie’s pantomime, pathos, and overwhelming bathos a spark from which his own creative fires might be ignited. Not, please understand, as a theft of ideological parenthood, but as a conceptual springboard, if you will. It would not be unfair to say that Charlie was and is his spiritual mentor.

            “When Chaplin’s scathing satire of Adolph Hitler’s Nazi Germany ended,” Melman continued, “he turned to me, his eyes wide and sparkling in what, through our long years of personal and professional association I had come to recognize as the first blush of the Muse’s touch, said, ‘Charlie has his Hitler film. I want mine!’”

            Melman reported being shocked by this pronouncement.  As a Jew, he was apprehensive about such a concept coming under the scrutiny of the comedian’s somewhat broad comedic brush. Indeed, almost as a reflex, Melman expressed that concern as soon as suggestion came out of his mouth. The response, he recalls, was chilling, a classic example of Jerry’s legendary temper. “Through clenched teeth, he stared at me as though I was something he had found upon the sole of his shoe and repeated his first thought, biting off each word. ‘Charlie. Has. His. Hitler. Film. I. Want. Mine!’

            “With that, he turned his back on me and left the screening room. That was the last time we ever spoke.”

            His “Hitler film” would turn out to be, at least in screenplay form, Hitler’s Bellhop. After leaving Melman that evening, Jerry retired to his study and in what he later reported to be “a white hot cauldron of creativity,” churned out the screenplay over the course of three days. In the middle of his seven picture deal with Paramount, he immediately brought the finished screenplay to the studio as his next picture. Sammy Waldinger, a friend of many years and head of production for Paramount, took a look at the title page and blanched. 

            “I’ll never forget that moment,” Waldinger said in a 1978 interview with Film Comment Magazine. “I was horrified, I mean physically in fear for my life at the very idea. He honestly thought this was a movie he should make. I asked him, ‘Is this a joke?’ and he gave me that look, that frozen reptile stare of his. ‘I’m serious, Sammy,’ he said, and he was. He sat in that chair for two hours, arguing with me. ‘It’s funny,’ he said. ‘It’s not funny,’ I said. ‘Hitler isn’t grist for the comedic mill.’ What about The Great Dictator, he wanted to know. Or Brooks? Mel was preparing The Producers then. Or To Be or Not to Be? 

            “But what he never seemed to grasp was that Chaplin aside, those movies weren’t about Hitler per se, but comedies dealing with those around Hitler, or in the case of The Producers, a satire on Broadway more than Hitler himself. He thought that this...screenplay of his fit that mold. ‘It’s not about Hitler.  It’s about the Bellhop.’ Well, while we talked, or I should say argued, I was flipping through this thing. And here was Adolph Hitler, that monster, that beast, he should be rotting in Hell even as we speak, being treated like some kind of sitcom buffoon next-door-neighbor. A perfectly harmless and hapless goof who kept getting pushed into committing history’s worst atrocities through his clumsy Bellhop. This is funny?

            “Well, finally, I put my foot down. ‘No way,’ I said. ‘This crap doesn’t get made by my studio, not as long as I’m in charge!’ Well, you know him. He said, ‘That can change, Sammy!’ and walked out with his screenplay. Needless to say, I’m still in charge of the studio, and we never made Hitler’s Bellhop. But that was the last time we ever spoke.”

            Though a consistent money maker for the studio, the comedian never did find a sympathetic ear there. His contract did, however, allow him to make one independent picture a year, and he decided that picture would be Hitler’s Bellhop.

            Independent producer Frank Schlessinger, a friend with whom Jerry had made several pictures over the years, remembers the initial pitch meeting. “Kind of surreal, you know what I mean? He was really up about this picture, and I think his enthusiasm must have been contagious or something, because by the end of the lunch, I was ready to hop on the bandwagon. Come to think of it, I don’t know if it was his enthusiasm or that fourth martini. At any rate, we shook on it. I was gonna produce Hitler’s Bellhop.”

            With the handshake deal in place, Jerry went on a publicity blitz. Bella Leven, a writer for the Hollywood Reporter recalls an interview where he went on at great lengths justifying his choice of subject matter. “Sure,” he told her, “I could have played the role of Hitler myself, but who would believe it? You see, the public has in its mind a picture of me as the ‘little guy,’ the poor man trapped in a system that is beyond his ability to comprehend or control. That’s why I’ve had such luck in my pictures portraying the little cog in the big machine, if you will. The waiter, the bellhop, the sales clerk, the handyman, what have you. I am not believable as the father figure, or the man in command.

            “That’s why I settled on the character of the Bellhop, nameless, you’ll notice, throughout the picture, because he is the every man, the little guy trapped under the boot of authority. You know, there’s a comedic conceit in Jewish humor, although it applies to all forms of humor, of the schlemiel and the schlimazel. The schlemiel is the klutz schnook who trips over his own shoelaces and knocks a bowl of soup out of the waiter’s hand. The schlimazel is the poor bastard on whose head the soup spills. I am the schlemiel. That is my persona. That is what my public expects.”

            When Leven asked if the subject matter of Hitler’s Bellhop didn’t trivialize Hitler, Nazism, and the Holocaust, Jerry dismissed the charge. “Never! I would never do such thing. Rather, what I’ve done is expose these horrors to the light of ridicule and broad satire. How scary is the monster once you notice his zipper is open and his wee-wee is hanging out? I’ve opened Hitler’s zipper.” The reporter next questioned the historical value of the screenplay and asked how much research went into its creation. Lighting a cigarette with a three foot high flame from his gold lighter, the comedian smugly conceded that he had not invested any time in research before writing Hitler’s Bellhop. The reporter expressed his incredulity that he would attack such a subject without first researching the historic and psychological aspects of Hitler when Jerry cut him off.

            “I’m a Jew,” he snapped, his eyes as cold as ice. “There’s nothing about that momza Hitler that I don’t know here,” he snarled, thumping his fist over his heart. “In my kishkas!” At which point he terminated the interview and never spoke to Leven again.

            Eventually, commonsense (or sobriety) got the better of Frank Schlessinger and he backed out of the handshake deal. “He was livid,” Schlessinger recalled with a chuckle. “He accused me of everything from censorship to anti-Semitism, but what could I do? I was never going to be able to get backing for this thing, but let’s say I did. Then what? I’m gonna have my name on a comedy about a cuddly Hitler who accidentally perpetrates some of humanity’s evilest acts? What, do I look nuts to you? He ranted, he raved, he badmouthed me up one side of Hollywood and down the other, he sicced I don’t know how many lawyers on me, but it was all just a lot of noise. Pretty soon, he got tired of it and went away.

            “I heard he spent the next few years trying to find other backers, but by then the whole industry had heard about this insanity and nobody would touch it with a ten foot pole. Eventually, I guess he just shoved the screenplay in a drawer and forgot about it.” Schlessinger sighed and shook his head sadly.  “That was the last time we ever spoke.”

            Apparently, Hitler’s Bellhop was forgotten, the screenplay itself lost, until last year when Jerry sold his Beverly Hills home to relocate to Florida with his new wife. Old file cabinets left out on the street for trash collection were immediately descended upon by souvenir hunters, one of whom, Audrey R. Freun of the Santa Monica Boulevard movie memorabilia shop StarFinders, discovered the yellowed and crumpled partial manuscript wedged under one of the drawers. “I was very excited,” Ms. Freun said. “Hitler’s Bellhop is something of a Hollywood legend, but no one outside of a few studio honchos had ever read it. Even the remaining bits and pieces that I found are a revelation. Of course, being a huge, huge fan of his, I was doubly thrilled to be able to read some of this lost work. What was most incredible was finding the cast page, featuring his very own ‘dream team’ for the picture.

            “We’d met several times,” Ms. Freun continued, “and I’d sold him some pieces over the years, mostly Chaplinania. I thought we had a cordial relationship, so I called his office to let him know what I found. His secretary put me through to him, and I started to describe what I had and there was just silence on the line. I asked him if there was anything wrong. He said, ‘What are you trying to do? Humiliate me?’ I assured him that wasn’t my intent, but he launched into this diatribe about the people who hate him, who refuse to understand his creative genius and what all. He accused me of all these things and then slammed the phone down. That was the last time we ever spoke.”

            Attempts to reach Jerry concerning the screenplay have met with a wall of silence. He refuses to respond to any questions about it, and friends and associates will not speak without his permission, which, needless to say, is not forthcoming. Jerry has not spoken to this writer since 1983, when I published a less than glowing review of his low budget comeback comedy, Salad Bar.

            Here, then, the last surviving fragments of Hitler’s Bellhop.

*

HITLER’S BELLHOP

Cast of Characters

The Bellhop ........................................... Jerry

Adolph Hitler ................................... Gale Gordon

Eva Braun .................................. Kathleen Freeman

Anna ................................. Anna Maria Alberghetti

Gohring ......................................... Jesse White

Himmler ....................................... Milton Fromme

Mussolini ........................................ Joe DiRita

Neville Chamberlain ........................... Peter Lawford

Winston Churchill ............................. Maurice Evans

FDR ............................................ Tony Randall

The Italian Ambassador .......................... Vito Scotti

French Premier Daladier.....................Franklin Pangborn

Emperor Hirohito....................................... Jerry

Gohring’s Aide..................................Howard Morris

Josef Stalin .................................. Jerry Cologna

FADE IN:

EXT. BERLIN — 1934 — THE HIMMELFOUNTAINBLEUER-HILTON HOTEL — DUSK

Nazi flags snap smartly in the Autumn breeze over the hotel entrance, a line of OFFICIALS are lined up outside the entrance, complete with SS OFFICERS on motorcycles at the head of this motorcade. One of the lead Mercedes flies the Italian Flag on its fender. Motorcycle engines rev and grumble as the motorcade awaits the V.I.P.s who will be riding in the cars.

Voice (V.O.)

I’m so thrilled you could make my little soiree, Herr Ambassador. You know, a party’s not a party without good food, good wine...

CUT TO:

INT. THE HIMMELFOUNTAINBLEUER-HILTON

The lobby of the hotel is a plush, sumptuous affair. A large, wide, sweeping staircase cuts through the center of the lobby and ends at the landing on the mezzanine. At the top of the stairs, at the far wall, are a bank of elevators. The lobby is full of well-dressed, prosperous men and women, along with a number of GERMAN OFFICERS in their Army, Luftwaffe, and SS uniforms. Nazi flags are draped proudly all about the lobby. At the top of the stairs, stands HITLER and the ITALIAN AMBASSADOR, talking as the camera moves through the lobby, up the stairs, and onto them.

HITLER

... And most important, good friends. It’s a shame Il Duce couldn’t attend.

AMBASSADOR

Signor Mussolini sends his regrets, signor Fuhrer, but he’s had his share of problems, you realize, getting those pesky trains to run on time.

HITLER

Of course, of course, if anyone can understand the trials and tribulations of getting a down and out nation back on its feet, it’s myself. 

Hitler leans forward, patting the Ambassador’s shoulder in a friendly gesture, his eyes twinkling.

I don’t have to remain you of the mess I inherited with this one, do I? Oh, the stories I could tell you about runaway inflation would curl your mustache.

AMBASSADOR

Si, si, signor Fuhrer, but you have done wonders with your Germany.

HITLER

(pretending humility)

Oh, pish-tosh, Mr. Ambassador. I’ve only done what any concerned, caring leader would do. Besides, after that whole world war fiasco, I thought it high time Germany took her place in the modern world as a leader in social reform and peace.

As Hitler and the Ambassador speak, a MAN dressed in a wide brimmed hat and overcoat with the collar turned up to hide his face, walks across the lobby towards the foot of the steps, his hands in his pockets.

AMBASSADOR

Then you hold no grudge for your defeat and humiliating surrender to the Allies?

HITLER

(waving this off)

Oh, nein. When one starts a war, one stands as much a chance of losing as winning. Besides, if we had succeeded in dominating the world, what in heaven’s name would we have done with it?

AMBASSADOR

(chuckling along with Hitler)

Hmm, I see what you mean.

The Man has reached the foot of the stairs and is starting to walk up them. At the same time, the elevator door behind Hitler and the Ambassador has opened. 

HITLER

Well, Herr Ambassador, the motorcade awaits to take you to the airport.

The Man’s polished shoes are ascending the stairs.

AMBASSADOR

(looks at his pocket watch)

Ah, it is that time is it not?

From the elevator, the BELLHOP is backing out, his arms overloaded with luggage piled so high that it covers his face. Several bags on straps hang from both shoulders. He is so overloaded as to be almost immobile. His is a constant struggle to juggle his unwieldy load and maintain its precarious balance, a German every man struggling to maintain his grip on his world and his life. People waiting to board the elevator step back and aside to let him out.

BELLHOP

Excus... ahhh, pardon... oooohhh!  Oooofff!  Sorry, mine hairy... frau laaady...

The Man’s polished shoes continue up the stairs.

AMBASSADOR

You will send my regards to your lovely friend, signora Braun?

The Bellhop continues backing awkwardly out of the elevator, backing ever closer to where Hitler and the Ambassador stand at the head of the stairs, their backs to him and oblivious to his encroaching presence.

HITLER

Most certainly, Herr Ambassador. And please remember me to my old friend, Il Duce.

The Man’s hand is coming out of his pocket, grasping a Luger.

AMBASSADOR

I will do so, signor Fuhrer.

The Man is halfway up the stairs and has the Luger up and pointed at a startled Hitler. The Bellhop is now directly behind Hitler and the Ambassador, his back still to them, still juggling his burden and about to bump into the Ambassador from behind.

MAN

(shouting)

You will neither of you do anything...except die!

HITLER

Oooooo, gott in himmel!

The Man readies to fire.

The Bellhop bumps hard into the Ambassador’s back, sending him flying headlong down the stairs. The impact causes the Bellhop to drop all of the luggage he’s been balancing, but he struggles valiantly to keep a hold of the bags as they go every which way. His back is still to us.

BELLHOP

Oooofff!

AMBASSADOR

(screaming)

Momma mia!

The Ambassador slams into the Man on the stairs just as the gun goes off, causing the shot to go wild as the two men tumble head over heels down the stairs.

The Bellhop whirls suddenly at the sound of the gunshot, slamming into Hitler as he does so, but the two men can barely maintain their balance and stay upright. ZOOM IN on the startled face of the Bellhop and HOLD on his wide-eyed, open mouthed expression for:

FREEZE FRAME. CREDITS ROLL.

The Man and the Ambassador crash to the floor at the bottom of the stairs. SS OFFICERS with guns drawn race towards this heap of humanity.

At the top of the stairs, the Bellhop, all flustered, a few strap bags still hanging from his shoulders, starts to stumble down the stairs to go help the men he’s sent tumbling, but Hitler grabs his arm and literally yanks him back up to the landing, his face beaming with gratitude.

BELLHOP

Oh no, I...maybe I should...no, wait...are they...did I break your...

HITLER

You!

BELLHOP

I’m so sorry, I meant no harm, but the luggage was...oh...I don’t deserve a tip, I’m such a klutz...

HITLER

Do you realize what you’ve done, Bellhop?

BELLHOP

I made ‘em go...whump-a-whump-a-whump-a...oooo, that hadda sting!

HITLER

No, not that!

BELLHOP

What’re you saying, I saw ‘em going whump-a-...

HITLER

(interrupting)

You just saved my life, my boy! Do you know what that means? Do you realize who I am?

BELLHOP

(squinting at Hitler and doing a double-take)

No, I...oh! You...you...you’re not... you can’t be...

HITLER

Yes. It’s all right to say it, my boy.

BELLHOP

The new bell captain!

Hitler laughs heartily and claps the Bellhop on the back, causing the youngster to stumble and almost fall down the stairs.

HITLER

No, lad. I’m your Fuhrer. Adolph Hitler!

BELLHOP

I didn’t know I had a Fuhrer!

HITLER

I don’t know how I can ever repay you. Unless...

Anticipating a tip, the Bellhop holds out his hand in happy expectation.

BELLHOP

Well, a few deutschmarks wouldn’t hurt...

HITLER

That’s it!

The Bellhop looks down at his empty palm, then mugs a look at Hitler.

BELLHOP

Big tipper, huh?

HITLER

No, my boy... even better! I will give you a job.

BELLHOP

A job I already got. What I need’s money...cash...currency...moolah...gelt!

HITLER

No, my boy. This will be a promotion...a step up in the world. Here at the hotel, you’re just another faceless bellhop, but if you accept my office, you’ll be much more! You’ll be Hitler’s bellhop!

BELLHOP

This is a promotion...?

                        CUT TO:

*

INT. — THE REICHSTAGG — HITLER’S OFFICE

Hitler is striding into the office, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of a productive afternoon of work. With him is HIMMLER. Trailing behind them is the Bellhop, who’s precariously balancing a large silver platter holding a tea set and plates of cookies and sweets.

On Hitler’s large desk are SIX TELEPHONES, all lined up. Each phone is a direct link to a world leader: #1 is FDR, #2 is CHAMBERLAIN, #3 is MUSSOLINI, #4 is HIROHITO, #5 is DALADIER, and #6 is STALIN.

HITLER

Well, Heinrich, ready for another day of diplomacy?

HIMMLER

Sure thing, boss!

HITLER

I’m very pleased with the way things have been working so far. Relations with England, France, and Russia have never been better, and, of course, we’re still as thick as thieves with Italy and Japan.

HIMMLER

You are the master of the peace process, sir.

HITLER

(modestly)

You’re too kind, Heinrich. After all, my friend, what more is diplomacy than telling others exactly what they want to hear...especially with all the tension in the world these days! All I’m striving to do is ease those tensions between nations to insure that we continue to live in peace.

As Hitler and Himmler settle at the desk, the Bellhop is careening around the room, trying to keep the large serving tray balanced in his hands. 

HIMMLER

If anyone can do it, it’s you, sir!

HITLER

Well, let’s just see about that, hmmm? Now, my secretary has connected all the world leaders on these telephones for our summit conference...

Hitler points in turn to each telephone.

President Roosevelt of the United States...Prime Minister Chamberlain of England...Il Duce Mussolini of Italy...Emperor Hirohito of Japan...President Daladier of France...and Premier Stalin of the Soviet Union.

Hitler picks up Phone #1.

Good afternoon, President Roosevelt. How are you today? How’s the lovely Eleanor?

INT. — THE WHITE HOUSE — THE OVAL OFFICE

FDR sits behind his desk, cigarette holder jutting from his mouth.

President Roosevelt

Just dandy, Adolph. Just dandy! And Eva? Please do send her my regards, will you.

INT. — HITLER’S OFFICE

HITLER

I certainly will, Franklin. So, I trust things are going well for America these days?

ROOSEVELT

(from telephone)

Everything’s splendid. Now that we’ve licked that dratted depression matter, things couldn’t be better.

HITLER

Oh, I’m so happy to hear that. I know how annoying economic instability can be. And your foreign relations...?

INT. — THE OVAL OFFICE

ROOSEVELT

Oh, not bad. The usual ups and downs. You know how the Russians can be sometimes. And don’t get me started on those snooty French...!

HITLER

(from telephone/chuckles knowingly)

Oh, ho ho ho! You don’t have to tell me, Franklin! Why do they persist in calling chopped liver “patè,” hmmm?

Hitler winks at Himmler, who’s standing by the desk, watching Hitler admiringly.  Phone #2 rings.

Oh, pardon me, Franklin. I have a call on the other line. Would you mind holding for a moment? Thank you!

Hitler picks up Phone #2.

Neville, dear lad! So glad you could take my call!

INT. — 10 DOWNING STREET — CHAMBERLAIN’S OFFICE

NEVILL CHAMBERLAIN at his desk, pouring a cup of tea from the tea set on desk.

CHAMBERLAIN

Quite alright, old chap. How’s the weather in Berlin?

HITLER

(from telephone)

Lovely, simply lovely. In fact, if it’s still this nice come September, I was thinking of sending the army on a little march to visit Poland.

CHAMBERLAIN

Quite, quite. That would be perfectly all right with me.

INT. — HITLER’S OFFICE

HITLER

I trust all is well with England?

CHAMBERLAIN

(from telephone)

Ship shape, tip top, wot! Sun never sets and all that rot. Have to watch it with those wily Italians, of course...

HITLER

Oh, but of course!

CHAMBERLAIN

(from telephone)

... But other than that, couldn’t be better, so kind of you to ask.

The Bellhop is still staggering around the room, trying to keep the precariously balanced serving tray from going flying. He bounces off of Himmler, hits a wall, staggers around the desk, etc. Give the Bellhop room to improvise comedy routines throughout this scene.

Phone #3 rings. 

HITLER

Let me get that phone, Neville. Can you hold, please?  Very kind of you!

Hitler picks up Phone #3.

Benito! How is Italy’s favorite fascist?

INT. — MUSSOLINI’S OFFICE

BENITO MUSSOLINI standing on the balcony outside his office, waving to a non-existent crowd below.

MUSSOLINI

Holding my own, Adolph. Sorry I missed your reception last month. The Ambassador told me it was a crazy party.

HITLER

(from telephone)

It had its moments. And the Ambassador told me you hand things pretty much under control on the old homefront, hm?

MUSSOLINI

They don’t call it fascism for nothin’, Adolph! 

(Laughs)

I just wish the same could be said of our foreign policy. Sometimes those Russians...I wanna give ‘em such a hit!

INT. — HITLER’S OFFICE

HITLER

Ho-ho, who doesn’t, Benito, my friend. The bear can be stubborn!

Phone #4 rings.

Oh, there’s my other line. Hold on, will you, Benito?

Hitler picks up Phone #4.

Hello, hello, Emperor Hirohito. So very nice to hear from you again! How goes the Empire?

CUT TO — THE IMPERIAL PALACE — HIROHITO’S OFFICE

HIROHITO

Ah, so, is muchly going well, thank you.

HITLER

(from telephone)

Good, good. I know you were having that little tiff with the Americans over oil and all that...

HIROHITO

Crazy Americans! They gonna drive me cuckoo too!

HITLER

(from telephone)

Well, be patient, my friend, and let me handle this. The Americans are a hard-headed bunch, but I think I can talk some sense into them.

HIROHITO

Better hope so, otherwise gonna be one messy fight, don’t care if Roosevelt’s in that wheelchair, I’ll go to Washington and kick his tuchus!

INT. — HITLER’S OFFICE

HITLER

That won’t be necessary, I’m sure.

Phone #5 rings.

But hold that thought, Emperor. I must answer the other line.

Hitler picks up Phone #5.

President Daladier! What a pleasure to hear your voice again, mon ami!

INT. — DALADIER’S OFFICE

DALADIER

Oui, I suppose it would be, but I cannot say the feeling is mutual.

HITLER

(from telephone)

Now, really, sir, we’ve talked about this attitude of yours. You know I understand you mean no offense, of course, but the rest of the world leaders take it personally.

DALADIER

As well they should. They are all pigs.  We are French. You are not!

HITLER

(from telephone)

And we all thank you for your delicious “patè.”

DALADIER

It goes without saying.

INT. — HITLER’S OFFICE

Phone #6 rings.

HITLER

Oh, dear. Will you pardon me, President Daladier? My other line is ringing and I must...

DALADIER

(from telephone)

What?  ou dare take another call while speaking to me?! Never have I been so insulted! I trust you realize, German pig, that this means war!

Hitler yanks the phone from his ear as Daladier slams the receiver down.  Hitler looks upset. The Bellhop continues spiraling around the room, narrowly averting disaster.

HITLER

(to Himmler)

Well, that one didn’t go well. I’ll try to smooth things over with him later.

BELLHOP

The French are such a wise people! I...ooohh, could you move please the...this is heavy...

Hitler picks up Phone #6. The Bellhop is still careening about in elaborate gyrations around the room, miraculously keeping the serving tray from falling.

HITLER

Hello, Comrade Stalin! 

INT. — THE KREMLIN — STALIN’S OFFICE

STALIN

Da, this is Stalin. Who’s this?

HITLER

(from telephone)

Chancellor Hitler. Didn’t your secretary tell you it was me, Josef?

STALIN

Da, but how do I know it’s really you? I never did trust you.

HITLER

(from telephone)

Now, now, Josef, I thought we’d made that pact about your aggressive behavior.

STALIN

Sure, sure, but you also made a pact with the English, and I don’t trust them more than I don’t trust you!

INT. — HITLER’S OFFICE

HITLER

Well, I can understand that. Afterall, Josef, you know the old saying: Keep your friends close, and...

At which point the Bellhop finally loses out in his battle to keep the serving tray under control and, tripping over a rug, he loses his balance, and it goes flying through the air to land on Hitler’s desk.  Tea, cookies, crockery, everything is a mess on the desk, knocking all the telephones from their carefully set places. 

BELLHOP

Whooaaah!

HITLER

You clumsy oaf! Look what you’ve done!

BELLHOP

I meant no harm, mein football! Forgive my oafishosity. Lemme get a sponge...

Hitler and Himmler try to sweep aside some of the mess to get back to the telephones. The Bellhop joins in the clean-up effort but is only making things worse by tangling up all the different telephones so that it’s impossible to know which receiver goes to which telephone base. Finally, Hitler slaps the Bellhop’s hands away and grabs a telephone handset.

HITLER

I’m so sorry, are you still there? Anyway, as I was saying, one keeps his friends close, and his enemies closer, so naturally I made a deal with the English...

INT. — 10 DOWNING STREET — CHAMBERLAIN’S OFFICE

HITLER

(from telephone)

... And put up with that silly fop Chamberlain and his declining little “empire” as much as I possibly can to...

CHAMBERLAIN

I say, old bean! If that’s the way you feel, what say we just declare war and be done with it!

HITLER

(from telephone)

Nev...Neville? Oh, no! When I said fop and declining empire, I thought I was talking to...I mean, what I meant to say was...was...

CHAMBERLAIN

I know perfectly well what you meant, old sock. You’re just a two-faced phony, and all your lot deserves is a good thrashing. See you on the battlefield, Adolph. Oh, regards to Eva.

Chamberlain slams down the telephone, then lights a cigarette, pours himself a scotch, and leans back in his chair to sip and smoke.

CHAMBERLAIN (Cont.)

Hmmm. A war with Germany! Ought to insure my re-election, wot!

INT. — HITLER’S OFFICE

HITLER

But...but...but...

Scrambling, Hitler tries to untangle telephone wires and snatches up another receiver.

... Josef? Oh, dear, I think I made a big mistake. Great Britain has just declared war because of what I...

INT. — THE WHITE HOUSE — THE OVAL OFFICE

ROOSEVELT

War with the British you say, Adolph? Oh, that’s not good, ‘Fraid I’m going to have officially protest and break off relations with you until we work this out. Ta-ta!

Roosevelt hangs up the telephone.

INT. — HITLER’S OFFICE

HITLER

(into telephone)

... No, wait, Mr. President, you don’t understand, it’s all a big mistake! I...oh, he’s hung up...

(Hitler drops that receiver and picks up another)

Is that you, Benito? Oh, I’ve botched things up but good! I was talking to that silly little dictator Stalin and got...

INT. — THE KREMLIN — STALIN’S OFFICE

STALIN

Well, ain’t that the pot calling the kettle black! Boy, if I knew that was the way you felt, I never would have bothered signing your stupid pact! 

HITLER

(from telephone)

Josef?! Oh, no! Please, I was...

STALIN

In fact, let’s just pretend I didn’t! Agreement’s off, Hitler. This silly little dictator’s gonna kick your goosesteppin’ heinie into next week!

Stalin slams down the telephone.

INT. — HITLER’S OFFICE

Hitler is dropping the receiver in horror. He grabs for the remaining two receivers.

HITLER

(into telephones)

Er...Benito? Emperor?

INT. — MUSSOLINI’S OFFICE

MUSSOLINI

Yes, Adolph.

INT. — THE IMPERIAL PALACE — HIROHITO’S OFFICE

HIROHITO

Hai! You were expecting maybe Rudy Vallee?

INT. — HITLER’S OFFICE

HITLER

Gentlemen...I think you had better sit down...

INT. — MUSSOLINI’S OFFICE

MUSSOLINI

This doesn’t sound good...

INT. — THE IMPERIAL PALACE — HIROHITO’S OFFICE

Uh-oh! What you do now?

INT. — HITLER’S OFFICE

HITLER

(weak)

How would you fellows feel about a little world war...?

*

EXT. — BERCHTESGARDEN — ESTABLISHING SHOT — Afternoon

HITLER (v.o.)

I don't believe this! I've never seen anything like this...

INT. HITLER'S STUDY

Hitler sits at his desk, going over papers, looking distraught.  The Bellhop is moving around the room, dusting.

HITLER

... This news could not be worse!

BELLHOP

Bad news from der front, or the back even, mein furor?

HITLER

Oooohh, far worse than that!

Grabs a fistful of the papers he's been going over and waves them in the air before him.

It's these bills! Eva is spending the Reich into bankruptcy! Clothes! Chochkas! Dinnerware! And worst of all...shoes! The woman can't pass a shoe store without buying everything in sight!

BELLHOP

It’s a disease.

HITLER

She’s blitzkrieged every Thom McCann within a 50 mile radius. This can't go on. Last month's shoe bill alone could feed the Wehrmacht for an entire winter campaign! How many shoes does that woman need? How many feet does she have?

BELLHOP

(still dusting, raising a massive cloud of dust)

Well, last I counted, two...but all the walking...

HITLER

(slamming the desk with his fist)

This can't go on, I tell! The Reich is supposed to last one thousand years...the treasury won't last another month with her spending.

BELLHOP

(starting to sniffle from the dust)

Don't be such a heel about the shoes, mein furrier!

HITLER

No! This must stop. I will put her on an allowance and force her to...

He is interrupted by the doors to the study swinging open. EVA comes sweeping in, dressed to the nines, pleased with herself. 

EVA

Adolph, dahling! Oh, what a glorious day it's been.

HITLER

Obviously, my dear Eva, you haven't seen the bills.

EVA

Oh, pooh! Bills are for peasants.

Following in her wake come three Soldiers, all laden with more packages than you can imagine...most of them shoe boxes.

EVA (Cont.)

There was the most delicious sale at Der Shoe Bin, and I...

At which moment, the still dusting Bellhop gives in to a massive sneezing fit. His sneezes are furious, sounding like Howitzer batteries blasting. They send him reeling wildly, slamming into the nearest package carrying Soldier. Which sends packages flying, and in a flailing domino effect, causes Soldier One to fall into Soldier Two, who falls into Soldier Three, with everything flying out of their hands and showering Hitler with packages. Shoes fly out of their boxes and pelt him with an endless rain of footwear.

BELLHOP

Oooff, sorry, oh I...please, with the falling...ohh, grab that and, etc.

SOLDIERS

(various)

Ooofff! Hey, vatch vhat you're...! HEY!

EVA

My shoes!

C/U — HITLER doing a slow burn

C/U — BELLHOP, improvises mugging reactions

HITLER

Your...shoes...

EVA

I swear, Adolph, if you've scratched my new red pumps, I'll...

HITLER

SILENCE!

Everybody freezes, like a game of statue. The Soldiers were picking up shoes, shoving them quickly and fearfully into their boxes. The Bellhop was also trying to help, but was only making matters worse, kicking things out of the reach of others, etc.

HITLER

I've conquered Poland. I've reclaimed the Sudentenland. France and England cower before me...

BELLHOP

You're very cower-able, mein hairnet.

HITLER

(an icy glare towards the Bellhop, who withers under the look)

...So why, oh why, can't I stop you from shopping?

EVA

Don't be silly, shatze. These were all on sale, so I actually saved you money...

HITLER

Oooohhh, gott in himmel!

(waves his arms to indicate the mess, then points to the Bellhop)

Take this...this mountain of footwear and get it out of my sight.

BELLHOP

Where should I...?

HITLER

I don't care! Just remove them—now!

The Bellhop starts gathering everything up, dropping two things for every one he tries to pick up. Give the Bellhop space to improvise before, under Hitler's withering glare and growing agitation, he finally backs out of the room, doubled over with all the shoes he can carry gathered in his arms.

BELLHOP

Okay, sure, outta sight. Consider them...whooosh!...gone, so there's no more...you won't see these babies any...lemme tell you, mein fignewton, you want 'em gone, they're history, baby...yessireehelmut...

CUT TO:

INT. — a long hallway of the house

The Bellhop is hobbling along, leaving a trail of shoes behind him as he frantically looks for a place to put them.

INT. — a bedroom

We see fat GOHRING in women's underwear admiring himself in a mirror.

C/U — THE BELLHOP

He reacts, doing a triple-take before slamming the door shut. He proceeds to the next door, opens it.

C/U — THE BELLHOP

He’s recoiling, taken aback by what he sees through the door.

MED. — THE DOORWAY — PROCESS SHOT

Line after line after line of goose-stepping Nazi Soldiers parade past the doorway.

C/U — THE BELLHOP

He does a double-take, makes a start away from the door, stops, goes back, looks in again, and shakes his head in disbelief, looks into the camera with a shrug, looks back again, then slams shut the door. 

He stalks off down the hall, to the next door, which he stops in front of.  He opens the door.

C/U — THE BELLHOP

INT. — THE DOORWAY

The rock and roll band, GARY LEWIS AND THE PLAYBOYS are jammed inside the closet, playing their instruments and singing. As the door opens the MUSIC COMES UP of their rock-and-roll version of “Deutschland Uber Alles.”

C/U — THE BELLHOP

He has a big, goofy smile of pride. Looks at the camera, points to his chest and mouths “That’s mein boy!” to the audience. Then, wags his fingers in a gesture of “bye-bye” to the band, and closes the closet door. MUSIC FADES OUT.

INT. — THE CORRIDOR 

Finally, with only a few shoes left in his arms, he opens the door to a closet. In the closet are a few shelves on which rolled up maps sit. The opening of this door has caused him to drop all but one last shoe. This last shoe in his hand he looks at, looks into the camera, then flings the shoe into the closet with an elaborate shrug. His work done, he flips the door shut, dusts his hands off, and turns to go back the way he came, exaggeratedly stepping over the trail of shoes he's left behind.

CUT TO:

INT. — The long hallway in the house — EVENING

Hitler is coming down the hallway, engrossed in the papers in his hands. Soldiers stand at attention along both sides of the corridor, rifles in hand. 

HITLER

(muttering)

Mmm, yes...a good plan of attack...it could very well work...turn the tide of the war in Germany’s favor...! But I had best check the map. Now where did I put those maps...? Ahhh, yes...

(Hitler stops before the closet where the Bellhop had stowed all the shoes.)

... Of course, in the map closet. How positively silly of me.

Hitler opens the door...

... And is immediately and totally buried under an avalanche of women’s shoes. Every color and type of shoes. Thousands of them.  They keep pouring out of the closet, far more shoes than could possibly have ever been jammed inside in the first place. Hitler is felled by the first wave, arms flailing, shouting, knocked down and covered. Several soldiers rush towards the growing mound of shoes to rescue their leader.

Finally, the avalanche slowing to a trickle, the soldiers succeed in fishing Hitler out of the pile, pulling him clumsily to his feet by his arms. He’s literally up to his chest in shoes.

HITLER

Oooohhh! Shoes...

Just as he succeeds in getting his footing, the dazed Hitler is hit on the top of the head by one last shoe that comes bouncing out of the closet.  This staggers him and he almost goes down again, except for the soldiers, who catch him under his arms.

HITLER

(angry)

SHOES!

Enraged, Hitler shakes free of the soldiers’ helping hands and begins to kick at the thousands of shoes piled up all around him, sending them flying as he screams, losing all control.

HITLER

I have had enough of these shoes! I want them gone, do you hear me? I want the shoes to go...get them out of Germany! I never want to see another shoe in Germany as long as I live! Destroy them all!  Destroy the shoes!

INT. — THE CORRIDOR

A game of “telephone” begins in the corridor as the nearest Soldier standing at attention turns his head to look at the next Soldier further down the corridor and relays Hitler’s message, and so on and so forth down the line with ever increasing FAST CUTS from SOLDIER #1 to SOLDIER #2 to SOLDIER #3 and so on. This continues until it reaches the last Soldier in the line, who stands at attention at the door of Gohring’s office.

SOLDIER #1

Der Fuhrer wants to be rid of the shoes!

SOLDIER #2

Herr Hitler orders the removal of the shoes!

SOLDIER #3

Der Fuhrer wants the shoes out of Germany!

SOLDIER #4

Destroy the shoes!

SOLDIER #5

Get rid of the shoes!

SOLDIER #6

Der Fuhrer hates the shoes!

SOLDIER #7

Herr Hitler would have the shoes destroyed!

SOLDIER #8

The shoes must be eliminated from the Reich!

SOLDIER #9

Get rid of the...what did he say?  The Jews?

SOLDIER #10 stands outside Gohring’s office, and when he receives the word from SOLDIER #9, he flings open the door, shouting into the office. Seated at the reception desk there, guarding the door to Gohring’s inner sanctum, sits Gohring’s Aide.

SOLDIERS #10

(shouts)

Ja! Der Fuhrer orders the destruction of the Jews!

INT. — GOHRING’S AIDE’S OUTER OFFICE

Gohring’s Aide is caught by surprise by Soldier #10’s sudden and loud announcement, jumping out of his seat. Papers go flying as Aide almost falls from his chair.

GOHRING’S AIDE

(startled)

Der yoiks in himmel!

(recovers, hand to his chest)

You don’t hafta shout! Now, vhat vas dat message again, bubbie?

SOLDIER #10

(shouts)

Der Fuhrer orders the destruction of the Jews!

Gohring’s Aide repeats his previous jumping out of his seat in reaction to the shouting. Soldier #10 goes, closing the door behind him.

GOHRING’S AIDE

Dat boy’s got himself ein attitude prrrroblem!

Recovering, Gohring’s Aide straightens his uniform, smooths his mussed hair, then steps up to Gohring’s door. He raps smartly on the door with his knuckles, then shakes his hand sharply, making a face because it hurts his knuckles. Without waiting for a reply, the Aide opens the door and enters the office.

INT. — GOHRING’S OFFICE

GOHRING’S AIDE

A message from our beloved Fuhrer, Herr Gohring!

GOHRING

Vas ist?

GOHRING’S AIDE

Der biggenbossen sends word he wants alles Jews in Germany destroyensplatt!

GOHRING

Destroyensplatt?!

GOHRING’S AIDE

Destroyensplatt!

GOHRING

Alles?

GOHRING’S AIDE

Alles!

GOHRING

Well, he is der Fuhrer, and if that’s what he wants...!

(shakes his head)

A shame, though.

GOHRING’S AIDE

Vhy ist dat, mein high und mighty ubermensch?

GOHRING

Well, some of my best friends are Jewish...!

*

EXT. — HITLER’S CHANCELLERY, BERLIN

The few bits of Berlin that haven’t been reduced to rubble are burning. Death and destruction hang heavy in the air like the black smoke of the fires.

HITLER

(V.O.)

...Doomed, I tell you. Doomed!

INT. — HITLER’S BUNKER

Hitler, Eva, the Bellhop, Gohring, and several other high ranking Nazis are in the Bunker. Everyone is glum, except the Bellhop, who’s busy making tea for everyone over a small open propane gas fed stove. 

There’s a propane gas tank on the floor under the table on which the stove sits. The teacups are set up on that table as he boils the water on the propane gas stove. On the wall over the table is a shelf on which several boxes sit, including, right beside one another, a box marked “Sugar” and a second one marked “Rat Poison.” Both the sugar and poison boxes are the same color.

Hitler is pacing, wringing his hands, frantic. Eva is chewing on a fingernail.

HITLER

The Allies are on our doorstep! The Axis powers have fallen apart...Mussolini is dead...my armies are in a shambles...the Russians will be here any minute...

EVA

(holding up her hand)

And I have a hangnail!

GOHRING

Ve must getten outen der country, mein Fuhrer! After losing those 20 million people at Stalingrad, the Russians are gonna be really peeved at you!

HITLER

Ooooh, don’t I know it, Hermann. The names Stalin has been calling me.  Fascist. Dictator. Imperialistic running dog. Genocidal maniac.

BELLHOP

You oughta sue that guy for definition of character, mein futon!

NAZI OFFICER

Ve haff an unmarked car ready to whisk you away to the border, mein Fuhrer. You and Fräulein Braun can be out of the country in no time.

HITLER

As much as I hate to admit it, I’m probably better off letting tempers cool down before I try to explain this mess to the rest of the world.

GOHRING

Ja, I think so. I mean, ravage two-thirds of the planet, kill tens of millions of soldiers and citizens...and everybody jumps to the conclusion that you’re a bad person.

HITLER

There’s no justice, is there?

(claps his hands together and looks at his people)

Very well. We had best get going if...

BELLHOP

Not so fast, mein fuschia! I’ve made tea and nobody’s going anywhere until they sit down and have a nice hot cup.

HITLER

There’s no time for...

BELLHOP

Oh, pish and tush, sir! There’s always time for a refreshing beverage, mein fubar. Besides... I have cookies!

HITLER

(perking up)

Those little chocolate ones with the nuts?

BELLHOP

The very kind, mein hairball!

HITLER

(smiling, sitting down next to Eva)

Well, a few minutes more certainly wouldn’t do any harm.

BELLHOP

Absolutely not, and besides, a growing boy needs his tea and cookies, doesn’t ‘um? Oh, and it’s a cold, cruel world out there, so a little warmness in the belly is a good thing before embarking on running and fleeing and generally escaping and not being here with the nasty Russians on the doorstep...

The Bellhop babbles on, adlibbing small talk, as he finishes his preparation of the tea. While he talks, mixing, stirring, dipping tea bags, etc., he continues to look back over at Hitler and the others to make various points. In looking back, he’s not watching as he reaches for the box of sugar on the shelf over the table, grabbing the rat poison instead. He dumps a large amount of rat poison into the sugar bowl, replaces the box on the shelf, and then proceeds to spoon several heaping spoonfuls of rat poison into each and every cup of tea, stirring it all up good.

Still babbling away, the Bellhop serves up a cup of tea to everyone in the room. No one is yet drinking, until he hands the final cup to Hitler. Then they start to slurp down the tea hungrily.

BELLHOP

There you go, Herr hairy-hair hair-hair, that’s a boy, drink it up, oh, yumm, that’s so good...yep, everybody, make with the drinking and...mmMm! Oh, the goodness of it...what?, not sweet enou...more sugar...? No? Sure, just...

HITLER

(sipping the tea)

I must tell you, my boy, that of everyone in Germany and the Third Reich, you have been the most faithful of all!

BELLHOP

(shy)

Awww, you’re just sayin’ that!

HITLER

No, I mean it! If only there were some way to reward you...

C/U — THE BELLHOP

He’s moved by Hitler’s words, biting his lip, biting his knuckles, trying to keep from crying.

BELLHOP

I’m... I’m more than whelmed, mein fructose. I’m overwhelmed, by the loving and the love in this room that I feel, like love, which lovingly loves me, oh, not for love’s sake but the sake of loving the love between lovers and loving, rather in a way that love loves and hate not so much with the loving, yet still entitled to being in love with love for love, shall not perish from this earth with its lovingness...

As he babbles on, the Bellhop is moving closer to Hitler, pigeon-toed, emotional, reaching for the Fuhrer to grab and embrace him. 

But before he can grab Hitler, Gohring steps between the Bellhop and the Fuhrer, holding up his now empty cup of tea to show the befuddled Bellhop.

GOHRING

Zis tea, Bellhop...it tasted odd to me.

NAZI OFFICER

Ja, ja, now that you mention it, it did have an unusual taste.

HITLER

(looking in his empty cup, smacking his lips)

Hmmm, yes, I taste it as well. What is that...?

BELLHOP

(confused)

Tea. It’s tea. And water. No lemon or milk...there’s a war on, you know? Just tea. Water.  And sugar. Sweet. And tea. With water. Hot water. Did I mention tea? And sugar?

HITLER

This tea’s not the least bit sweet.

BELLHOP

But I added sugar...

As he speaks, the Bellhop backs towards the table where he made the tea. He’s pointing to the tea and the water and then reaches for the box of “Sugar” on the shelf but instead grabs the “Rat Poison” and pulls that out to show the assembled Nazis.

BELLHOP

... Lots and lots and lotsa sugar like this right here...

HITLER

Oooh, gott in himmel!

EVA

You idiot!!!

GOHRING

Rat poison?!?!

BELLHOP

Rat poi...? Why would I make tea with rat poison? That’d taste...

(looks at box in his hand, does several triple takes as the truth of what he’s done sinks in, then looks into camera with his best look of chagrin)

BELLHOP (cont.)

... Oh, I’m gonna get such a yelling...

HITLER

Dumbkoff!

GOHRING

You moron!!!

NAZI OFFICER

Smeh-geggy!

Startled, scared, the Bellhop fumbles the box of rat poison he’s holding as everybody starts screaming at him and coming at him. He makes several futile grabs for the box but can’t quite get it. It hits the tables, knocks the pipe connecting the tank of propane gas to the stove loose. The gas sprays over the open flame that he had used to boil the tea water...

C/U — BELLHOP

He realizes what he’s just done, a look of comic horror on his face.

BELLHOP

UH-oh!

MED. — HITLER, EVA, GOHRING, THE NAZI OFFICERS

They freeze.

Exchange looks of shock, surprise, horror. Look back at the camera.

Hitler sticks his fingers in his ears. The others squeeze their eyes shut.

HITLER

Ooh, this just hasn’t been my war...!

EXT. — HITLER’S CHANCELLERY

Big explosion as the underground bunker blows up from the propane.

EXT. — STREETS OF BERLIN

A line of Russian tanks have ground to a halt a short distance from the explosion. The hatch of the lead tank swings open, and a STALIN pops out to look at the explosion. Shot is from POV behind STALIN standing in the hatch, so we do not yet know who he is.

EXT. — HITLER’S CHANCELLERY

The smoke from the explosion is thick and debris is still raining down...

... But inside the smoke we can make out a figure, stumbling towards the camera. Hold on that figure as he gets closer.  Closer. Closer still...

... And then the figure breaks from the smoke and we see it’s the Bellhop. His face and clothing are blackened by dirt and soot, his clothing smoking, smoke curling from his hair.

He stops in frame, looking dazed. Then he exhales sharply, puffing a big plume of smoke from his mouth.

BELLHOP

Sheesh!

He shakes his head, slaps his hand to the top of his head and swipes his hand down his face, looking dazed and confused all the time.

He starts to walk again, stumbling through the debris, then stops dead when he hears...

VOICE

(V.O.)

You there!

Looks around. Shakes his head. Starts stumbling again, but stops when he hears...

VOICE

(V.O.)

I said, you there!

Stops again, this time looking in the direction the voice came from. It was from the Russian tanks.

He stumbles towards them, stopping in front of the lead tank.  Still from the POV behind the man standing in the hatch of the tank, so we don’t see who he is.

MAN IN TANK

What was that explosion?

BELLHOP

Oh, that boom, big boom, so loud with the booming...Herr Hitler’s bunker...I made it go boom, blowed it all up, boom, all gone, no more, sorry Charlie, that’s all she wrote!

MAN IN TANK

You...destroyed Hitler’s bunker?

BELLHOP

I was his bellhop...we were drinking tea, with Gohring and Fräulein Eva...and I blowed it all up, made it go bye-bye!

MAN IN TANK

You are telling me that you were part of Hitler’s staff and used your position of trust to get close to him and blow up his staff, his girlfriend, him and his bunker?

BELLHOP

I’m saying...I made it all go... BOOM!...explode...all gone...!

MAN IN TANK

Why, that makes you a hero, comrade!

BELLHOP

Easy for you to...oh, that was a loud noise with the booming...

MAN IN TANK

Don’t be so humble! You destroyed a monster, young man!

BELLHOP

And a whole lotta perfectly good furniture...

MAN IN TANK

You deserve a reward for your heroism! Tell me again, what was it you did on Hitler’s staff?

BELLHOP

I was his personal bellhop!

MAN IN TANK

Excellent! Then this is what I will do for you, comrade Bellhop...

REVERSE ANGLE — FROM BEHIND BELLHOP

Looking from POV behind BELLHOP as he looks up at the man on the tank and we see it is JOSEF STALIN. He is holding out a hand to the Bellhop.

STALIN

... I award you the position of personal bellhop to me, Comrade Josef Stalin, premier of the great Union of Soviet Socialist Republics! What do you say to that, my boy?

C/U — THE BELLHOP

BELLHOP

Josef...Uncle Joe...the big kahuna of the whole...wow!...it...it’s an honor, kumquat Stalin!

STALIN

Then you will accept the job, comrade? 

BELLHOP

Are you kidding? Listen, the last boss isn’t exactly gonna be handin’ out a reference so soon...

(starts to climb up on the tank to join Stalin)

BELLHOP (cont.)

I just hope, kamikaze Stalin, I can do for you exactly what I did for Hitler!

C/U — BELLHOP

Grins into the camera and we

FADE TO BLACK

--END--