Yes, it's been a while. Yes, I've been busy. No, I wasn't sure if anyone wanted to read any more. Apparently a few of you do. So, here goes!
FADE TO:
EXT. PALACE AND SCHLOSS MAUR HOTEL--BROADCAST VIEW - DAY
It is a grey, snowy day. A TV JOURNALIST is reporting on the match as SOVIET DELEGATES, an AMERICAN ENTOURAGE, and EUROPEAN OBSERVERS gather in the background to greet each other. In the bottom right corner of the screen is the "NBS" logo, designed like a simple pigeon's tail inside an eye.
TV JOURNALIST
This is Julia Waters coming to you live from Merano, Italy, and the luxurious, newly renovated Palace and Schloss Maur Hotel, courtesy of NBS. We are mere hours away from the opening match of the World Chess Championship. The contest will pit reigning American champion Frederick Trumper against Soviet challenger Anatoly Sergievsky. This year's match will take us to both sides of the Iron Curtain, when we move to Budapest, Hungary, immediately after the tenth game...
EUROPEAN OBSERVERS (O.S.)
(under the report)
No one can deny that these are difficult times.
She looks over her shoulder and starts walking backwards, towards Molokov. Walter, on the other side of the screen, is now wearing his khaki-colored trenchcoat; Molokov wears a black one. The camera follows Ms. Waters.
TV JOURNALIST
Before we move to a special live press conference with Mr. Trumper, we will be having a few words with Mr. Sergievsky's associate.
Walter moves to flag down Molokov. The camera shakes and jitters, following the TV Journalist as she also flags down Molokov.
TV JOURNALIST
Excuse me, Mr. Molokov!
WALTER
Mr. Molokov!
MOLOKOV
(to Walter)
Eh, one moment, please...
EUROPEAN OBSERVERS
(gathering around the scene)
/These are very dangerous and difficult times.
TV JOURNALIST
Will we be hearing from your challenger today, Mr. Molokov?
MOLOKOV
I fear not; Comrade Sergievsky is pre-occupied with the tournament, and wishes not to be distracted from his game. I will field any questions you may have at the conference in his place. If you will, excuse me.
(turning to Walter)
Mr...de Courcey, is it?
EXT. PALACE AND SCHLOSS MAUR HOTEL --NORMAL VIEW - CONTINUOUS
The TV journalist continues to report as Walter and Molokov slip away from the cameras.
WALTER
Yes, I -
MOLOKOV
(cutting him off)
Forgive me, I was expecting to greet one Ms. Flora -
WALTER
(interrupting; softly)
Not in front of the cameras, Mr. Molokov.
The two exchange a tense glance.
EUROPEAN OBSERVERS
(beneath the above dialogue)
No one can deny that these are diffiult times; /These are very dangerous and difficult times...
Molokov chuckles and extends his hand.
MOLOKOV
It's the US vs. USSR /Yet we more or less are...
Walter takes it and half-smiles.
EUROPEAN OBSERVERS
(whispering amongst themselves)
No one can deny that these are difficult times!
MOLOKOV
...To our credit putting all that aside /
Walter turns away, but Molokov doesn't let go of his hand.
MOLOKOV
(continuing)
We have swallowed our pride. /
EUROPEAN OBSERVERS
These are very dangerous and difficult times!
Molokov lets go of Walter's hand; the two walk side by side to the hotel's entrance, followed by their respective delegations.
WALTER
(opening the door for Molokov)
It really doesn't matter who comes out on top - /
MOLOKOV
(walking through)
Who gets the chop! /
INT. PALACE AND SCHLOSS MAUR HOTEL—LOBBY - CONTINUOUS
The two disperse with their respective delegations.
WALTER & MOLOKOV
(parting wave)
No one's way of life is threatened /By a flop!
The delegations make their way to a conference room.
WALTER & AMERICAN ENTOURAGE
But we're gonna smash their bastard - /Make him want to change his name! /Take him to the cleaners /And devastate him - /Wipe him out, humiliate him!
INT. PALACE AND SCHLOSS MAUR HOTEL-CONFERENCE ROOM – CONTINUOUS
A black-and-white banner, reading boldly "Trumper vs. Sergievsky '80," spans the width of the room above a podium, where the Arbiter and his assistants stand. Camera crews have set up; reporters rush in, pushing through the delegations where necessary.
The Soviet delegation eye the reporters warily, slowly shifting their focus to the American entourage as they find their seats.
SOVIET DELEGATION
(walking to their seats)
We don't want the whole world saying/ "They can't even win a game!"/ We have never reckoned on coming second/ -
ALL AMERICANS AND SOVIETS
- There's no use in losing!
The Arbiter clears his throat into the mics in front of him, causing some mild feedback as the reporters take notes and the camera crews film. Molokov steps up to the podium to take a seat. Flash bulbs go off sporadically.
ARBITER
(into the mic)
The value of events like this/ Need not be stressed/ When East and West...
(eyeing Molokov...)
...Can meet as comrades/ Ease the tension over drinks...
(...then the three remaining empty chairs)
Through sporting links.
Molokov looks at the Arbiter, his eyebrows raised, jaw taut. The assistants have their backs turned to him. On the floor, the opposing delegations eye each other coldly.
ALL AMERICANS AND SOVIETS
As long as their man sinks...
CUT TO:
BROADCAST VIEW - CONTINUOUS
MS. WATERS
(over the last note of "US vs. USSR)
The mood here is one of -
An interruption as the pace of the flash bulbs escalates. We PAN AROUND back to the double doors as Freddie stands in the doorway, like a ten-year-old walking into a birthday party. Florence peers in behind him. He turns to her.
FREDDIE
(to Florence)
What a scene /What a joy! / What a lovely sight -
DRAMATIC VIEW
Reporters rush Freddie, microphones poised. He takes Florence's hand; the two duck around the journalistic mob and rush toward the stage.
FREDDIE
When my game is the big sensation! / Has the mob's sporting taste/Altered overnight –
Freddie leaps onto the podium and dusts himself off. Florence shakes her head and walks around to use the steps.
FREDDIE
Have they found new sophistication?
(straightening himself up; surveying the scene)
Not yet! They just want to see/ If the nice guy beats the bum!
Florence walks to her seat. Freddie stops her.
FREDDIE
If it's East-West, and the money's sky-high/They all come!
He kisses her full on the lips. Sounds of the press "Aw"-ing and another eruption of flash bulbs. Walter fidgets.
FREDDIE
(continuing; aside to Florence)
You can raise all you want/If you raise the roof -/Scream and shout, and the gate increases...
One of the assistants whispers something in the Arbiter's ear. He eyes Freddie cautiously as Freddie waves to the crowd.
FREDDIE
Break the rules, break the bank/I'm the living proof
(side-steps to the podium; takes the mic from in front of the Arbiter)
They don't care how I move my pieces!
(into the mic)
I know I'm the best there is /But all you want is a show /Well, that's alright; I'll be glad to oblige!
(as he overlooks the press before him; to self)
SRO...SRO...
ARBITER
(into the mic)
Questions are now open for Mr. Trumper, the world champion.
Florence rushes to Freddie's side.
FLORENCE
(softly)
Easy, Freddie...
FREDDIE
(half-smiling; covering the mic)
C'mon, I know what I'm doing.
Freddie steps back up and points to a reporter in the back. ALL REPORTERS respond instantly.
REPORTERS
(in UNISON)
Why do you persist with vicious attacks /Ungracious remarks re: opponents /It smacks of a lack of conviction! / Admit, you're under duress /And that your only skill left is for money, not chess!
FREDDIE
(into mic; over the end of the last line)
One at a time here...
REPORTERS
(still in UNISON)
If Soviet life's as grim as you claim/Then how come their boys are so good at the game? /Though you swear the American dream/Is clearly the best,/ You're no advertisement for life and times in the West...
FREDDIE
Whoa, whoa! I said one at a time; otherwise no one gets an answer.
(pointing to a LOCAL REPORTER in the back)
You!
TABLOID REPORTER
(jumping in)
Why did you risk the whole match breaking down?
FREDDIE
I really don't know what you mean, and wait your turn. Next question?
TABLOID REPORTER
All your outrageous demand, your conceit –
FREDDIE
(brushing him off)
I don't see anything outrageous in demanding what I'm worth; next question?
FINANCIAL NEWS REPORTER
They pay you all that you ask for, and then you demand even more!
FREDDIE
(leaning on his elbows)
Look, I'm the reason you're all here - who's ever heard of Sergievsky?
Ms. Waters, the Tabloid reporter, and the Financial News reporter step forward from the gaggle, microphones at their sides, toward the podium.
MS. WATERS, TAB REP, FN REP
(half to each other; half to FREDDIE)
It's hard to believe what we're reporting/ Why so desparaging? - Not very sporting!
FREDDIE
Yeah? Then tell me, are the Communists sporting?
Ms. Waters, the Tabloid reporter, and the Financial News reporter all arrive at the podium and raise their own mics simultaneously.
MS. WATERS, TAB REP, FN REP
Tell all this to the United Nations/ Are you an asset to East-West relations?
Molokov leans back in his chair. He looks at Florence, smirks, then looks to the ground.
FREDDIE
(half-chuckling)
What is this? What have the Russians ever done for East-West relations?
(into the podium mic)
Are there any serious questions out there?
LOCAL REPORTER
What's your impression of our little town?
FREDDIE
Gave me a toothache when I got off the train. Next question?
SOVIET REPORTER
Where would you rather have played, Leningrad?
FREDDIE
Leningrad was an insulting Soviet suggestion!
MOLOKOV
(perking up)
We only tried to be friendly; we would have played in New York!
FREDDIE
(to Molokov)
You know as well as I do what your motives were!
Freddie turns instantly back to the trio at his podium once he hears them.
MS. WATERS, TAB REP, FN REP
You protest too much! We see your ploy – a /Big noise to hide your fears, pure paranoia.
FREDDIE
(leaning closely to their mics, with utmost sincerity)
I'm not paranoid - they're out to get me!
ALL REPORTERS & PRESS
Tell all this to the United Nations!/ Are you an asset to East-West relations?
Freddie steps back from the podium, a bit flustered. He looks at Florence almost as an afterthought, then steps back up to the lectern.
MS. WATERS
Will you be quitting for good if you lose?
FREDDIE
(sighs)
Next question?
The Tabloid reporter thrusts his mic up, almost hitting Freddie square in the jaw.
TABLOID REPORTER
How come your second's a girl, lover boy?
FREDDIE
Ow! What'd you say?
Again, the reporter thrusts the mic.
TABLOID REPORTER
How come your second's a girl, lover boy?
Freddie grabs the Tabloid reporter's microphone from out of his hands and swings it, striking him square in the jaw and pushing him back a few feet. Another eruption of flashbulbs.
Florence rushes to Freddie, her arms reaching to spread some distance between him and the Tabloid reporter. Freddie just marches out of the room. The Tabloid reporter and Ms. Waters stop Florence before she can follow him.
TABLOID REPORTER
(continuing; his lip bleeding)
Well, what did I say? / He's out of his tree! / He's finally flipped -
MS. WATERS
And between you and me, / He's no hope of retaining his crown /In this frame of mind!
Molokov gets out of his seat and heads for the exit.
BOTH
In fact, he shouldn't have come here /He should have resigned!
Florence looks at the blood steadily gathering at the Tabloid reporter's lip.
FLORENCE
Smile, you've got your first exclusive story - /Now you can bask in his reflected glory!
The Tabloid reporter turns away; she circles around to face him again, removing a handkerchief from her blouse. She wipes the reporter's lip with it and shows him the stain on the cloth.
FLORENCE
Naked, unprovoked Yankee aggression - /Oh, what a credit to your great profession!
She throws the handkerchief to the ground and leaves the conference room, cameras and flashbulbs trailing her.
SPORTS REPORTER
(to Tabloid reporter & Ms. Waters)
Much better to quit while still number one /Than quest to defeat reputation, undone -
FINANCIAL NEWS REPORTER
(joining the gaggle near the podium)
Though he's proved to himself it's a Communist plot /If you ask me, it's money that did it and started the rot!
All reporters and news crews begin packing away their notes and equipment.
ALL REPORTERS & PRESS
(to each other)
It's sad that the best his country's produced /Is crumbling in front of our eyes and reduced /To a mindless abuse when he should be grateful instead...
INT. PALACE AND SCHLOSS MAUR HOTEL-FREDDIE'S SUITE - NIGHT
A replay of Freddie striking the reporter plays out on the television screen.
ALL REPORTERS & PRESS (V.O.)
Remember, we made him famous /Without us, he's dead!
Florence's hand reaches to the dial and shuts off the screen.
FLORENCE
Not good, Freddie. They hate you enough.
Freddie sits on his bed, a table with chessboard pulled up to him. His luggage still isn't unpacked. Florence turns to him with her arms folded. He looks at her, then back at the board.
FREDDIE
I'm sorry you had to pick up the pieces.
FLORENCE
Fine! Just...let's get some sleep. First game's tomorrow.
INT. PALACE AND SCHLOSS MAUR HOTEL-ANATOLY'S SUITE - NIGHT