LICENSE TO DRILL
Chapter 1: For Your Nose Only
SCENE 1 - INTERIOR, HARDWARD STORE, LONDON
A storekeeper, MR. RATCHETBAR, is in the middle of a sales pitch.
RATCHETBAR
. . . And you won't find a more powerful chainsaw in the British Isles. This little gadget packs more than 800 horsepower in an engine that could push an ocean liner to the moon.
He struggles to pick up a giant chainsaw that must weigh at least a hundred pounds and is nearly as long as he is tall.
RATCHETBAR (cont.)
Look at the chain on this! I promise you, this beaver's nightmare can slice through a tree two meters wide in just twenty seconds, and the price is just right. Well, what do you think?
CUT to show his customer:
FIVE-YEAR-OLD GIRL
I'll take it!
The five-year-old girl picks up the chainsaw with one arm and carries it to the checkout counter with ease.
A STOCKBOY approaches Ratchetbar.
STOCKBOY
Mr. Ratchetbar? That shipment of imported ceramic tiles has just arrived.
RATCHETBAR
Oh good, Mr. Smith'll be glad to hear it.
STOCKBOY
I doubt it.
RATCHETBAR
Why not?
SCENE 2 - INTERIOR, STOCK ROOM
Ratchetbar and the stockboy stare at a package marked FRAGILE. The package is bent, twisted, folded, spindled, mutilated, etc.
RATCHETBAR
I'LL KILL THAT BLOODY DELIVERY SERVICE!
STOCKBOY
Would you settle for the man who delivered it? He's still here.
Ratchetbar wails on the DELIVERY MAN:
RATCHETBAR
How could you morons let this happen! These tiles were handmade in eastern Suritan by Amakeyu Adeel, the most famous tile maker in the village of Minnis Kyul!
STOCKBOY
(mutters to self)
The only tile maker in the village of Minnis Kyul.
Ratchetbar heard him.
RATCHETBAR
Shut up!
(to delivery man)
These tiles were a special order for Mr. John Smith - a very expensive special order! And thanks to your company's complete incompetence I've got nothing to sell him but a box of porcelain gravel!
DELIVERY MAN
We aim to please. Good day.
The delivery man turns to leave, but:
RATCHETBAR
Oh no you don't, get back here! I m holding you to the guarantee!
DELIVERY MAN
What guarantee?
RATCHETBAR
The one that says I get my money back if the package isn't delivered to me in perfect condition!
DELIVERY MAN
Oh all right, here.
He pulls a small coin out of his pocket and tosses it into Ratchetbar's outstretched palm.
RATCHETBAR
Five pence? I paid fifteen pounds for this delivery!
DELIVERY MAN
So? We never said you'd get all your money back.
The delivery man turns, and this time he does leave.
RATCHETBAR
That's the last time I trust an important delivery to a company run by a chap named Honest Sam.
Another MAN enters the stock room from behind. Ratchetbar hears him approach and turns angrily toward him.
RATCHETBAR
Hey, you're not allowed in here! This is employees only!
MAN
That's all right, I just came for those tiles.
RATCHETBAR
Oh really, well you re not Mr. Smith. Go away!
MAN
I don't think so.
The Man exhales deeply in their direction. Ratchetbar and the stockboy take only a couple of sniffs of his breath and immediately fall to the floor dead. The Man grabs the package and runs away.
A SALESWOMAN enters the stock room and sees her dead co-workers.
SALESWOMAN
Look at that. Slacking off again!
SCENE 3 - INTERIOR, HEAD OFFICE, UNIVERSAL EXPLOSIONS
W presses his intercom button.
W
Miss Funnymoney, has Bomb returned yet?
Through the windows, he hears the sound of a car screeching to a halt outside with a loud crash, probably into several garbage cans, other cars, and at least one building with large windows.
FUNNYMONEY (V.O.)
I believe that's him now, Sir.
W
That's the eighth car he's wrecked this month! Oh never mind, as soon as he gets up here, send him in!
FUNNYMONEY (V.O.)
Yes, Sir.
CUT to SCENE 4 - INTERIOR, MISS FUNNYMONEY'S OFFICE
MISS FUNNYMONEY sits at her desk working. JAMES BOMB enters the office.
BOMB
Hello, Funnymoney. Penny for your thoughts?
FUNNYMONEY
(sarcastic)
Ha-ha! W wants to see you right away.
BOMB
"Right away." I take it the old boy has something important to say, perhaps something that will require the attention of Britain's best secret agent?
FUNNYMONEY
Yes, but he's not here, you'll have to do.
BOMB
Touche, Funnymoney.
He tosses his hat onto the hat stand across the room, and a small pistol pops out of the hatband and blasts a hole through the opposite wall.
FUNNYMONEY
Watch it with that hat, James! You're putting more holes in the walls than last year's termites!
BOMB
Perhaps I should wear my other hat next time. It's positively dynamite.
Bomb crosses the office and goes through the door to W's office.
FUNNYMONEY
I should get double hazard pay for this job.
SCENE 5 - INTERIOR, W'S OFFICE
Bomb, having just entered, approaches W's desk.
W
Sit down, 006 1/2.
Bomb does so.
W (cont.)
I had planned to assign you to pick up an important shipment from Harley Street Hardware as soon as you got back from Cancun. Unfortunately, while you were avoidably delayed there, a man entered the store and stole the shipment, a package of ceramic tiles.
BOMB
He must've been desperate to have his bathroom re-floored.
W
That is NOT the reason, Bomb! The designs on the tiles are actually the schematics of a complex computer circuit designed to better control our communications satellites. In order to foil possible attempts to steal the circuit design enroute to Britain, the scientists who developed it, under the supervision of Agent 009 1/4, had the tiles specially made in Suritan and mailed to Britain, where you were to purchase them. Unfortunately, an enemy agent got to them first. Is all that understood?
Bomb glances toward the camera, then back to W.
BOMB
I think they get the idea.
W
Good. Fortunately, the tiles were not handled with care, so it may take some time before they're put back together, time enough for you to do something about it.
BOMB
Check store records and see who's bought a lot of glue recently?
W
No!
He opens a desk drawer and pulls out a photograph to hand to Bomb.
W
Surviving eyewitnesses identify this man as the culprit: A. Pauling Stench, an international criminal wanted for murder, smuggling, industrial espionage, taking candy from babies, tearing tags off pillows, and jaywalking at a T-intersection.
BOMB
Yes, I've heard of him. His usual choice of weapon is deadly body odor, isn't it?
W
That's how he got away from the store. We tried to have him stopped at airport security before he could flee the country, but when they made him take off his shoes . . .
Pregnant pause.
BOMB
Oh dear.
W
Precisely. He's in Las Vegas by now. Your new assignment is to go there, find him, recover the tiles, and if possible determine who he's working for. Our sources tell us he frequents a local casino called the Plugged Nickel.
BOMB
Sounds like a good place for a slug. I'll leave right away.
W
Before you go, Bomb, I remind you this is a standard investigation. You are simply going to track down a suspect and acquire information. There's no need to get into any fights or car chases, or destroy thousands of pounds in property! Is that understood?
BOMB
Perfectly, Sir.
W
And I don't want you picking up every attractive woman that comes within a hundred meters of you. We re getting tired of you writing off all your prophylactics and mononucleosis treatments on your business account! I am ordering you to make this a nonviolent, inexpensive, and sex-free assignment!
BOMB
But then no one will watch this movie.
W
. . . . Yes, well . . . try to keep it within budget at least.
BOMB
Very good, Sir.
Bomb stands up, walks back to the door, and exits the office. After a few seconds, W glances down at his desk and notices something's missing. He quickly activates his intercom.
W
Miss Funnymoney, is Bomb still there?
FUNNYMONEY (V.O.)
Yes, Sir.
W
Did Bomb take a blue and gold pen that was lying on my desk? It was specially made for me by the research department.
BOMB (V.O.)
Sorry Sir, must have been a reflex. Hope there was no harm done.
W
Not unless you turn the cap clockwise.
BLAMMO! A loud explosion is suddenly heard over the intercom. W squeezes his eyes shut at a sudden headache.
W
Like that.
BOMB (V.O.)
I'll just be off to Vegas, as soon as I get a new tuxedo. Mine seems to be in tatters.
Pregnant pause.
BOMB (V.O.)
Funnymoney, you've trimmed a few inches off your waistline.
FUNNYMONEY (V.O.)
I'm going to trim a few inches off your neck if you don't get out of here!
SCENE 6 - EXTERIOR, MIDAIR
ESTABLISHING SHOT of a jet plane flying over the Atlantic Ocean. DISSOLVE to a slow pan of the plane's passenger compartment, showing several people in their seats doing their various things. DISSOLVE to a slow pan of the luggage compartment, showing the assortment of checked bags belonging to the passengers, until stopping on a large crate with a barred window and a large stamped label reading UNIVERSAL EXPLOSIONS. Bomb is inside the crate.
BOMB
(to himself)
W was serious about keeping this assignment within budget.
SCENE 7 - EXTERIOR, ESTABLISHING SHOT of AIRPORT, LAS VEGAS
CUT to INTERIOR, BAGGAGE CLAIM. Bomb's crate slides down the chute onto the luggage carousel. Bomb karate-kicks his way out of it, to the surprise of several people waiting for their own luggage. Bomb climbs out of the crate, smooths his tuxedo, and walks away debonair as always.
ONLOOKER
Remind me never to fly coach!
SCENE 8 - EXTERIOR, GROUND TRANSPORTATION, LAS VEGAS AIRPORT
Bomb steps outside at the drive-up area for shuttles and taxis. An ATTENDANT approaches.
ATTENDANT
May I help you, Sir?
BOMB
Yes, I need a taxi to the Motel 3.
ATTENDANT
(confused pause)
Motel 3?
BOMB
Yes, a cost-cutting measure on my employer's part, since it's only half the price of the -
Bomb's next words are covered up by several loud bleeps, like those of a TV censor, and the caption TRADEMARK INFRINGEMENT PREVENTION flashes onscreen.
ATTENDANT
I'll see what I can find, Sir. The attendant walks away.
A few moments later, a little old lady with a walker, JERRY ATRECK, hobbles slowly toward Bomb.
ATRECK
Excuse me, Son, but could you help me cross this street? I'm afraid my old legs just won t make it.
BOMB
Of course, Madam.
Bomb takes Atreck's outstretched hand.
ATRECK
Oh, you're too kind.
Atreck suddenly wheels around, flips Bomb bodily over her head, and slams him to the ground.
BOMB
(groggy)
Glad to be of service, Madam.
ATRECK
Anytime, Bomb!
She flips Bomb over her head three more times in rapid succession. She then lifts him up over her head, whirls him around several times, and then throws Bomb into the side of a parked bus.
ATRECK
(calls out)
Okay boys, tie him up and throw him in the car!
Three THUGS emerge from a nearby exit and tie up the semiconscious Bomb.
BOMB
(very groggy)
Do boy scouts ever go through this?
Bomb falls unconscious as a car rapidly pulls up and screeches to a halt, with a fourth THUG driving. The trunk pops open, and Atreck and the other thugs dump Bomb into it, get in the car, and burn rubber driving away.
SCENE 9 - EXTERIOR, DESERT, SOMEWHERE in NEVADA
Atreck's car approaches a desolate spot in the desert with nothing more than railroad tracks, several cacti, and a rusty old truck that looks like it was abandoned during the last ice age. The car pulls to a stop and its passengers get out. The trunk pops open again and they pull Bomb out, who by this time has regained his senses and his wit.
BOMB
When they say you can get taken for a ride in Vegas, they mean it.
Or at least half his wit.
BOMB
I heard that.
You were meant to.
THUG #1
He's still secure, Miss Atreck.
BOMB
Atreck - Yes, I should have recognized you. Jerry Atreck, a former strong-arm enforcer for the AARP, now an assassin-for-hire. So who hired you to assassinate me?
ATRECK
Figure it out yourself, Bomb! If you can before you die, that is!
THUG #2
But why did we bring him all the way out here to kill him?
ATRECK
Because, boys, much as I appreciate modern advances, you still can't beat the classics. Dump him on the train tracks!
The thugs do so, then they and Atreck run back to their car. Once inside, Atreck gives Bomb a parting wave.
ATRECK
So long, Sonny! Hope you like pizza, because you're about to become one!
Atreck and her thugs shut the car doors and drive away. Moments later, a speeding train approaches the spot where Bomb is sprawled and still tied up.
BOMB
Well, I was planning to have my suit pressed.
TO BE CONTINUED
This is an RC Gumby Production parodying an Albert R. Broccoli Production. Please don't sue us.