(We open with a long shot of a shop on a busy New York street and a sign that says "Blue Star Music Shop." The camera cuts inside, where Butch polishes a trumpet and Chuck wipes the counter.)
*We can hear loud whistling from the back room. It's only briefly interrupted by a minor crashing sound, followed by an "Oops," then more whistling.*
Butch: (Raises an eyebrow as he puts down the trumpet and cloth he was using to polish it) Who wants to go make sure Danny hasn't dropped our entire inventory for today?
Chuck: Shoot fingers for it.
Butch: Ok. (They shoot - Butch has the odd finger) Darn. I hope he doesn't drop anything on my head.
(He heads into the back room, shaking his head.)
*The tall, red-headed man is still whistling, standing on a ladder, putting items on the shelves. Several boxes sit opened around the bottom of the ladder. The box lays on its side, it's contents of paper items, mostly songbooks, spilled over the floor, forgotten.*
Butch: Oh geez! Danny, what happened? It looks like a tornado came through! You know the owner is coming around today to inspect the premises!
Danny: *Grabs onto the ladder in surprise; turns his head toward Butch* You almost had a bigger mess to clean up if I hadn't decided to give the ladder a bear hug! *sighs* The box slipped. I wanted to finish up here, then clean it up.
Butch: Sorry about that. Do you need any help?
Danny: Hand me up more stuff from the boxes or clean up the songbooks? Either would be really appreciated. *Frowns* When's he supposed to be comin' around anyway?
Butch: In about a half-hour or so. (Sighs) But you know him. He might show up early, just to scare us.
Danny: Yeah, I know.
Butch: (Starts picking up the songbooks; looks one over) Hey, I remember this song! I played it tons of time when I was a kid!
Danny: You don't play now?
Butch: I play for the guys a lot, and for my folks. But professionally... (Shakes his head) No one wanted an adult musical protege.
Danny: So don't be a protege anymore.
Butch: (Frowns) No one seems to want me at all. Even Chuck got his dream job as a reporter.
Danny: *Makes a face* You think this is my dream job? *makes an over-exaggerated pained face*
Butch: At least you've done stuff! You've played nightclubs. I haven't done anything musical since I was fourteen.
Danny: Yeah, I've played nightclubs, then got written off as a novelty singer. *Turns and leans on the ladder* Wanna play piano for a novelty singer who can't promise more than one night at a venue?
Butch: If you don't mind singing for an adult piano protege.
Danny: Doesn't bother me any. *sighs* Now, selling the act...that's another story.
Butch: Who knows? (Hands Danny the songbooks) We might get lucky someday.
Danny: Never know. *puts the songbooks on the shelf* Of course, if we got a couple chorus girls...
Butch: I get the blonds.
Danny: I'll take what's left. *Looks around the closet* How are we doing? What's left to put up here?
Butch: (Looks around) Once we get the shelves organized, we should be pretty much done in here. (He grins) I think I need to tune the pianos. Want to join me?
Danny: Sure! *climbs down the ladder* Have you heard from your friends how things are going in Paris?
Butch: (Nods) Yeah. We got a call from Slip yesterday at Louie's. Long-distance from Paris! Seems LeBeau makes enough to cover the expense. They were all recovering from some crazy drink that was supposed to be a favorite of LeBeau's. Sach had to be literally dragged out of bed. (Shakes his head) I can't believe Sach looks like a famous scientist! We all know how he loves messing with his chemistry set...but all he usually makes is a mess.
Danny: Well, they do say everyone has a twin...except I have no idea who "they" are...but I know I feel bad for my twin. I hope he's got a good sense of humor.
Butch: We once met a gangster who looked like Slip. (Shudders) Except he was a sadistic bastard. He hacked Slip, Chuck, and Sally's hair, sent me to some crazy chick who wanted to turn me into a mannequin, sent Chuck to a crazier chick who wanted him for a pet, and sent Slip and Gabe to two businesswomen with nasty ideas of having fun in bed.
Danny: Yikes. Slip's scary enough. I really wouldn't wanna meet a second one of him. *Nods at the main room* What did you wanna play, Butch?
Butch: (He pulls out a dusty song sheet) Here's an oldie but goodie. You ever done "Ballin' the Jack?"
Danny: I know it. It's been a while.
Butch: (The two go out to the main sales floor; Butch sits behind a grand piano) Then let's do it now. This piano could use a bit of tuning, anyway.
Danny: I'm ready when you are.
(Butch starts playing the song, then nods when it's time for Danny to sing.)
*Despite what he said, Danny doesn't appear to be following the lyrics sheet. He knows all the words and has a good, smooth voice. As he goes along, he sets the sheet down and does a bit of pantomime.*
(As they play, several people walk into the room. The two women are quite familiar - Sheila Saunders and Zelda London. With them are a tall, blond man with a beautiful, almost too handsome face and a lean, muscular build. He wears a fashionable suit. The other men with him are a bit beefier.)
Sheila: (Murmurs to the man) They're quite good, aren't they, DuVal? I know the two younger ones as well. Bartholomew Williams and Charles Mahoney. I've...dealt with them before.
DuVal: Quite good. (Turns to Zelda) And what do you think? Would they be worthy of signing for my nightclubs?
Zelda: *Staring* Hm? He's wonderful...
DuVal: Miss London?
Sheila: Zelda, don't drool so hard. (She shakes Zelda's shoulder.) You were just asked whether we should sign them.
Zelda: Oh! Yes! Please sign them!
DuVal: I was thinking on those lines. (He goes to the two men as they finish their number.) You have quite an act there, boys.
Butch: (Smiles) Thanks. It felt nice to play again.
Danny: We do?
DuVal: (Nods) Yes, you do. I didn't know I had such talented clerks at this store. (He smiles and puts out his hand) I'm the owner of this establishment, Bela DuVal.
Butch: I'm Bartholomew Williams (he goes to Chuck) and this is my best friend, Charles Mahoney.
DuVal: (Turns to Danny) And what about you, sir?
Danny: *Nods* Danny Kaminski, sir.
Chuck: It's nice to meet you, Mr. DuVal.
DuVal: Thank you, gentlemen. (Smiles) You know, you're quite good. I'd like to hear another number.
Danny: *Voice cracks as it goes up an octave* You would!?
DuVal: (Sits in a chair next to another piano) Yes, we would. Wouldn't we, ladies?
Zelda: We sure would!
Sheila: (Nods) Very much so.
Chuck: *Pulls out some sheet music* I've got one here, fellas. *hands the papers to the other two*
Danny: *Grins* I love this one!
Butch: (Grins) Now we can be just as French as our friend Sach! (He starts playing "C'est Si Bon.")
Sheila: (As Danny sings; leans over Zelda) You seem to favor that tall, red-headed fellow. I thought you only had eyes for the Mahoney brothers.
Zelda: I still like them... *sighs* but he's a singer, and handsome...
Sheila: (Shakes her head) I'm afraid he's far too goofy and gangly to be of interest to me. He's all yours.
Zelda: I don't see what you see.
Sheila: To each her own.
DuVal: (As they finish) You two are just wonderful. (He hands the two of them and Chuck cards) Come to my office after the store closes at 6. We'll discuss contracts.
Butch: (His eyes widen) C...c...contracts! Me? But I haven't played anywhere professionally since I was a kid!
DuVal: You certainly don't seem to have lost your touch.
Butch: Chuck has to come, too. (Grins) He's our manager.
Danny: *Nods* Yeah, we won't go without him.
Chuck: Thanks, fellas.
DuVal: Of course. Bring your friend. (Nods) See you then, boys. (He ushers the women and the other men out...and when he gets out, he's smirking.) Oh, this will be perfect.
Sheila: (As they head for a large black car) They'll be wonderful for the nightclubs. The fact that they're even good makes it better. They'll work just for us. (Turns to Zelda) And you can have that nervous Nellie singer whenever you'd like.
Zelda: *Grins* Wonderful!
DuVal: They'll work for a pittance...and only for me. (Frowns) I don't know what we're going to do about Mahoney, though. He's a reporter. I saw it on his application when he was hired. He might sniff a story.
Sheila: There has to be some way to distract him.
Zelda: I'm sure we'll figure out something.
DuVal: Well, let's get to my office, before they begin to suspect something. (He opens the door) Here you go, ladies.
Sheila: Thank you. (She steps in.)
Zelda: Thank you. *also steps in*
(DuVal follows them. The car finally pulls out onto Canal Street.)
(Cut to back in the music shop. Butch sits down hard on the piano bench, his eyes wide.)
Butch: I can't believe I was just offered a contract to play in nightclubs...
Danny: It's wonderful!
Chuck: *Frowns* Hm...
Butch: Chuck, you're a good singer! Maybe we can get you a place in the act. Or you can stay our manager.
Chuck: That isn't it. It's just...sudden.
Butch: So he's never been here before! This is a chance for me to play again, Chuck. I haven't played for a real crowd that didn't consist of you guys or my parents since I was 14!
Chuck: I know that, Butch. It's just...well... *shrugs* sudden.
Danny: I say we get to find out for ourselves.
Butch: Chuck, you're a reporter. You can find out more about this guy. Ask around. See if he's legit.
Chuck: I'm going to. I just want what's best for you guys. I'm gonna make a few calls.
Butch: (Nods) It might be best. We've been burned by stuff like this before. (Pats Chuck on the shoulder) I'm glad you're gettin' to follow your dream.
Chuck: That's the main reason. And I hope he's legit so you guys can follow your dreams. *heads for the office in the back to make his phone calls*
Danny: You know, the shorter girl with him looked like she was staring at me.
Butch: (He frowns) That's Zelda. One of the ladies who have spent the last few years chasing Chuck and Slip. (Grins at Chuck) Looks like you can breathe easier. She's found another beau.
Chuck: *Calls over his shoulder before going into the office* I'm not holding my breath on that.
Danny: Should I be worried?
Butch: (Sighs) I might as well tell you. Yes, you should be worried. Those two are bad news, and that's being nice. They like sex. Hard, heavy, and often.
Danny: *Eyes widen; his voice cracks as it goes up several octaves* Hard, heavy, and often!? She...she's d-done th-that t-to th-them!?
Butch: She was going to electrocute Slip.
Danny: *Gulps; the color drains from his face* Th-that's n-not n-nice.
Butch: We're not dealing with nice people. Sheila's almost gotten Gabe a couple of times.
Danny: *Puts a hand on his stomach* And why are we going along with this?
Butch: To find out what's going on here. I do want to play, but something isn't right. Those women mean trouble.
Danny: *Holds up an index finger as he swallows hard and makes a clearly queasy face* I think I'm gonna be sick...
Butch: There's a bucket under the sink in the bathroom in the back you can use.
Danny: I'll be back! *takes off like a shot, nearly running over Chuck as he leaves the office*
Chuck: *Jerks a thumb at Danny* What's wrong with him? Don't tell me it's another paper cut.
Butch: (Shakes his head) I told him about a couple of our run-ins with Zelda and Sheila, including the time Zelda was going to electrocute your brother.
Chuck: *Nods* He's worse than Sach and Whitey. *pauses* Zelda was watching him, wasn't she?
Butch: Couldn't take her eyes off him. You should have seen her drool!
Chuck: *Sighs* I don't like their association. *Makes a face* I couldn't get any information on him. We'll have to be very careful when we go there this evening.
Butch: You couldn't get any information? Not even from the Examiner?
Chuck: No. It's like he just all of a sudden came into existence!
Butch: But that's not possible outside of the comics!
Butch: Unless...DuVal wasn't always his name...
Chuck: That's exactly what I'm thinking.
Butch: Maybe he's a big gangster type. He probably has dozens of names! Hundreds!
Chuck: At least.
Danny: *returns, still with a hand on his stomach* At least what?
Butch: Chuck just found out that DuVal doesn't exist.
Danny: Excuse me?
Chuck: Not under that name.
Butch: I wish I knew what name he was under, so we can find out what's going on!
Danny: And we're still gonna go later.
Chuck: Yes.
Butch: Come on, fellas. Let's get crackin' on that organizing. (Fade out on the trio gathering sheet music. Fade in on DuVal's office. It's a large, modern room with lots of light false-wood furniture on long metal legs. There's several tropical plants throughout the room and a wide window with a splendid view of midtown Manhattan behind the desk. Sheila and Zelda sit in chairs on either side. DuVal is behind the desk. He grins as Butch, Chuck, and Danny enter, now in suits and hats.)
DuVal: Splendid, gentlemen. Take a seat on the couch. We're here to discuss your futures.
Chuck: *Nods* Thank you. *sits*
*Danny glances at Zelda. He finds her watching him again...and nearly sits on Butch.*
Butch: Hey! Do I look like a chair?
Danny: Oh! *laughs nervously* S-sorry, B-Butch.
DuVal: If we may proceed.
Chuck: Certainly, sir.
*Zelda smirks very lightly at Danny.*
Sheila: (Turns to the boys) We were very impressed with your performances today. You should both be playing and singing, not selling music.
Butch: (Blushes) Thank you.
Danny: *voice cracks* Thank you. *clears his throat* Thank you.
DuVal: We think you're more than worthy to play in my new nightclub, the Carousel Club. If you go over well, you may play at other venues, too.
Butch: (He can't help himself; he grins) Really?
DuVal: Absolutely.
Danny: *Voice is still off-pitched* Wonderful!
Chuck: What are the terms, sir?
*Zelda smiles at Danny. Danny sticks a finger is his collar, tugging it away from his neck as he swallows hard.*
DuVal: You play when I say to. You're free to bring your own material, but keep in mind, this is a classy club. We don't cater to low-lifes.
Chuck: Seems fair enough.
DuVal: When you're between numbers, you can mingle with the crowds...but don't mingle too hard. And when we want you, you come.
Chuck: Also sounds fair enough.
DuVal: (Nods at Chuck) I take it you're acting as manager, Mr. Mahoney.
Chuck: I am, sir.
DuVal: Then you'll be handling the contracts. (He hands him two papers and a packet) You can read through these later.
Chuck: *Nods* I will.
DuVal: Very well, then. If there are no objections, shall we sign the contracts, gentlemen?
Butch: (Looks at Chuck and Dan) Shall we?
Danny: *A bit flushed* Yeah.
Chuck: Fine with me.
*The guys sign the contracts. Chuck hands them back to DuVal.*
DuVal: Thank you, gentlemen. You won't regret this.
Butch: I'm looking forward to playing again.
Zelda: *Goes over to Danny* Might I have a few words with you?
Danny: *Voice cracks and goes up two octaves* Me!?
Zelda: Of course, you, silly.
*Chuck eyes Zelda, warily.*
Zelda: Perhaps out in the hallway?
Danny: Alone!?
Zelda: *Chuckles* You are so cute! *grabs Danny's hand pulls him out into the hallway* Ok, we're not around the others, so we can get down to business.
Danny: *Stammers* I, uh...you were, uh...staring and the fellas, uh... *blurts out* Don't hurt me!
Zelda: I won't hurt you. Why would I do that? I like you.
Danny: Hm? You won't?
Zelda: No. (She leans against him) I want you to like me. (Looks up at him with big blue doe eyes)
Danny: Oh... *swallows hard as his gaze lands on her eyes* I, uh...haven't, um...had the best luck with girls. I, uh... *voice cracks* get nervous...and st-stammer...
Zelda: Maybe it's about time I changed that luck. (Whispers in his ear) And your stammer is adorable.
Danny: *Laughs nervously and high-pitched* Uh...h-how?
Zelda: It makes me melt.
Danny: *Backs into the wall; winces* M-melt?
Zelda: Yeah. (Holds him gently) Can't you feel the electricity?
Danny: *His eyes widen and his face loses all color* Uh, I...ooohhh...
(Zelda finally gives him a big, tender kiss.)
*Danny looks like he's going to push her away...but he doesn't.*
Zelda: (She whispers into his ear) Why don't we get together after your first number tomorrow night?
Danny: *Nods with a sigh* Okay.
(As Zelda pulls away, Chuck and Butch come out into the hall. Butch raises an eyebrow.)
Butch: Are you ok, Danny? You're all red.
Danny: Hm? Oh, uh, I'm fine. *fans himself* It's hot out here...
Chuck: Sure it is. *eyes Zelda*
Zelda: *Wiggles her fingers in a semi wave* I'll see you fellas later. *turns to Danny* See you tomorrow. *heads off down the hall*
Butch: Maybe we ought to get going. We need to rehearse, and Chuck has to get to the office. (Frowns) Danny, are you sure you're ok? You have lipstick on your lips.
Danny: *Giggles* Do I?
Chuck: *Groans* Great. He's already gone.
Danny: *Waves a hand, dazedly* I'm okay. I just need to water my neck.
Butch: (He and Chuck take Danny's arms) We have to get you out of here. Zelda's already fried your brain.
Chuck: I think that's a new record.
Butch: She knows he's an easy target.
Danny: *Grins* You guys know I can see right over your heads?
Chuck: *Rolls his eyes* The thing is, I can never tell if he's just being goofy or if he's really lost it.
Butch: Let's ask him when we get out of here. (They lead him down the hall as we fade out.)