*We open in the boys' apartment building. We’re on the ground floor, with all five boys standing around an upright piano.*

Butch: (He's hugging it) Finally! After all those months of saving...hoping...I got my piano.

Chuck: And it's a real beauty, Butch!

Sach: I've never seen you so happy!

Butch: I can't wait to play it!

Sach: But how are we gonna get it upstairs?

Butch: (His eyes widen) Oh. I hadn't thought of that.

Sach: Anybody got a spare crane?

Slip: *Leaning on the back of the piano and drums his fingers* We couldn't fit the crane in here, either.

Butch: Maybe we could use the elevator. Is it working?

Slip: Is it ever?

Whitey: Couldn't we just push it up the stairs?

Butch: Could we, Chief?

Sach: Wouldn't that take a while? It's an awful long way up there.

Slip: Too long.

Butch: Unless the elevator's working, I don't think there's any other way. I can't leave it here!

Chuck: Well, there are five of us. I bet we can get it up there.

Slip: *Continues to drum his fingers on the piano* My shoulder's achin' just thinkin' about it.

Sach: So you don't do the heavy' liftin'!

Butch: You're better at givin' orders anyway, Slip.

Whitey: And there's only four sides and five of us.

Sach: So, let's get goin'! Who gets to take which side?

Chuck: Well, I could take the bottom-most side.

Slip: Sach, you take the back of it, since yer the tallest.

Butch: I'll take the front! (He runs his fingers down the keyboard) Don't wanna hurt these ivories.

Sach: Ok! (He runs in back of the piano and immediately begins to lift it...and gets nowhere. He turns to Slip, panting) Geez, this thing is heavy!

Slip: Why do ya think the four of ya are gonna handle it, hmmmm? Ya gotta pick it up all at once

Butch: Ok! Everyone ready?

Chuck: Ready.

Whitey: *At the base of the stairs* Ready!

Sach: Ok, everyone lift at once!

(We see the camera go as the boys lift the piano up the stairs...and up...and up. When we catch up with them again, Whitey and Butch are both missing their jackets, and Chuck's hat is in his pocket. All four are sweating.)

Sach: (Gasping) They need...to make lighter...pianos.

Butch: Sach, it's worth it.

Slip: Come on, men! We've still got a ways to go!

Whitey: *Yelps* Get it off! Get it off!

Slip: *Tries to look around the piano* Whitey? What'sa matter?

Whitey: The piano's on my foot!

Sach: Oh Whitey! My poor pal!

Butch: Come on, guys! (But the piano won't budge)

Sach: I think it's caught on the carpet.

Chuck: If we could lift it off his foot...

Slip: But yer all holdin' it!

Sach: Chief, why don't you climb over and fix it?

Slip: *Looks over and around the piano* All right... *climbs on the railing to go up and around*

Chuck: You got it, Slip!

Slip: This useta be easier in the streets!

Sach: Well, we weren't haulin' pianos around in the streets, either!

Butch: Got it, Chief?

Slip: *Comes down next to Whitey* Hang on... *kneels down* Hold on.... *grunts as he lifts*

Whitey: *Pulls his foot out* Ohh, thanks Chief! *rubs his foot*

Slip: *Sets it down* Yeah, no problem...

Sach: You ok, Whitey?

Whitey: *Rubs his foot* It's sore.

Sach: Maybe the Chief could take over for you while you rest your foot!

Whitey: Please, Chief?

Butch: It won't be the whole time!

Slip: Sure.

Sach: Ok! (They maneuver Whitey away from the piano and Slip over to where Whitey was)

Butch: Everyone ready again?

Chuck: And quick! I'm gettin' tired.

Slip: Let’s move, fellas.

Chuck: *Gasps as they lift the piano again* Can we stop at the next landing?

Sach: Maybe we could.

Butch: We have all day.

Sach: But we have to get there first.

Butch: So, let's get to the next landing, and we'll take a break.

Slip: Let’s move!

(The camera once again follows them up the stairs. They all push and pull and grunt and groan. Whitey continues to nurse his sore foot. When they get to the next landing, Slip is missing his jacket, and Butch and Sach have rolled up their shirtsleeves.)

Sach: Boy, I didn't know pianos were such hard work!

Butch: Now I know why my parents live on the bottom floor.

Sach: Did we lose anybody back there?

Chuck: *Practically sprawled on the floor* Much farther, an’ ya would've lost me.

Butch: Maybe we should have stretched our joints before we did this.

Sach: I'm with Chuck. I'm bushed. (He's sprawled on top of the piano.)

Butch: What about you, Chief?

Slip: I'm all right. Just lemme know when ya wanna pick up again. *wanders around the landing, shaking out his arm*

Sach: I might never pick anythin' up again. If anyone needs me, I'm dead. (He flops on the floor.)

Butch: We're all going to need to hope no one's using the bathroom tonight...cause we're all gonna need to soak in a hot tub for a few hours.

*Suddenly, snoring comes up from where Chuck is laying.*

Butch: Chuck! (He leans over his best friend and shakes him) Chuck!

*Chuck just snores again.*

(That's when we hear the sound of wheels rolling.)

Whitey: What's that?

Sach: (Sits up) I don't know. Who forgot to oil their shoes?

Butch: No, it sounds like wheels.

Slip: *Scoffs* Wheels... *shakes his head, then pauses; realizes* Wheels!? The piano!

Butch: (Points to the piano, which is going downhill towards a window) My piano's running away!

Slip: C'mon, Butch! *goes after it*

Butch: You get the front, I'll get the back! (He runs to the window to block the piano)

Sach: And it looks like they're headin' it off at the pass!

Slip: *Grabs on and tries to pull it to a stop; grunts* C'mon, stop!

*Slip digs his heels in, holding on as tight as possible with both arms.*

Butch: No, don't go out the window! (He braces himself...and manages to keep the piano steady.)

*As the piano finally stops right in front of Butch, Slip loses his grip and lands flat on his back on the floor, gasping.*

Sach: (He and Whitey are hurrying over as well as Whitey can; Sach has the unconscious Chuck on his back) Chief! Are you guys ok?

Butch: Slip! (He runs over to his friend)

Slip: I couldn't...let it...go out...the window...

Butch: Thanks, Chief. Are you ok?

Slip: I think so. *pushes himself up, but winces*

Sach: How's your shoulder?

Slip: *Rubs it* Been better... *gets up* We only got one more floor. We can make it.

Sach: But what about Chuck? He's really out, and I can't hold him on my back forever!

Slip: Leave him down here. We'll come back for him.

Sach: Sorry, Chuck. (He gently lays him down by the landing. He puts his jacket under Chuck's head, then covers him with Slip's jacket.) Sweet dreams!

*Chuck just keeps snoring.*

Sach: Whitey, why don't you take Chuck's place?

Whitey: Me on the bottom?

Slip: I'll take Chuck's spot. Whitey, you go back where ya were.

Whitey: Okay, Chief. You sure?

Slip: Yeah, I'm sure.

Sach: Yeah, Chief. You've still got that bad shoulder.

Slip: Yeah an' the piano would just roll right over Whitey.

Butch: Well, ok. Everyone get back in place, then.

Slip: Here we go, fellas.

(They push the piano back to the stairs.)

(Cut to the floor where their apartment is. We hear a lot of groaning and huffing and puffing. Suddenly, we see Sach first, in his shirtsleeves, his hat on the piano. Butch is also in his shirtsleeves. His jacket is tied around his waist.)

*Whitey is minus his hat. His hair sticks up more than usual.*

Sach: One more...stair...to go...

Butch: You said that...three stairs...ago...

*Slip is still holding the lower end and puffing.*

Sach: Whew! I'm pooped. (He wipes his head and looks around...and grins) Guys! We're here! We're on our floor!

Butch: (Looks around) Hey, he's right!

*Slip thumps down, leaning against the piano.*

Slip: Good.

Sach: (Rubs Slip's shoulder) We did it, Chief! We're here!

Slip: *Swats at Sach* Not the shoulder!

Sach: (Pulls back) Sorry, Chief. Forgot which one it was.

Butch: Let's get this to our place, then go get Chuck.

Slip: Jus'...leave me here a minute...

Sach: Don't you go fallin' asleep on us, too! We'll need you to help get the piano into our place!

Butch: Maybe Whitey, Sach, n' me could do it?

Whitey: Yeah, we can do it!

Butch: Come on, guys! (He pushes the piano as hard as he can...but he pushes too hard and it gets away from him.) Runaway piano!

Whitey: Oh no!

Butch: Stop that piano! (They hurry after it.)

Sach: I'll stop it...yikes! (But he trips and ends up tumbling down the stairs!)

Slip: *Eyes widen as he sits up a little* SACH!

Sach: (From down below) I'm ok! I'm...sore.

Butch: (He and Whitey chase after the piano) My piano!

Whitey: We'll stop it, Butchy!

Butch: (He grabs the end) Stop, piano! Bad piano!

Whitey: *Latches on as well* Heel, piano!

(And, wonders of wonders, the piano does "heel," stopping right in front of the Boys' door, which has a "Do Not Enter Unles Yer Are A Bowery Boy" sign taped to the front.)

Butch: I hope it isn't this frisky when we get it inside!

Whitey: I think it'll behave once ya tame it.

Butch: Hey, where are the other two?

Whitey: I don't know! Oh dear!

Butch: (Runs to the stairs) Slip! Sach! Chuck!

Slip: C'mon, ya big baby. *He and Sach appear, leaning on each other.*

Sach: Oooh, I think I broke every bone in my body!

Slip: Sach, knock it off.

Butch: Well, you're walking. That's something.

Sach: I don't know what happened. One minute, I was standin' by the stairs...the next, I was layin' on the floor, feelin' like someone took a meat pounder to my rear!

Butch: He seems to be moving ok.

Sach: Chief, do I look like anything's broken? Maybe we ought to see Bernie Punsley.

Butch: You just wanna talk with Bernie.

Slip: Yer fine, Sach. Maybe a little black and blue.

Butch: What about Chuck? Is he still out?

Slip: Still sawin' logs, but he's all right.

Butch: Should we leave him there, or carry him upstairs to bed?

Slip: *Turns to Sach* Think ya can hold yerself up long enough for me an' Butch to go receive Chuck?

Sach: (Nods) I think I can manage.

Butch: Ok, then. Come on, Slip. We know him best. He might not kill us when we get him up.

Slip: We'll wake 'im gently.

*Slip rolls his shoulder as they head down the flight of stairs.*

Sach: (Turns to Whitey) Why don't we get the piano in the apartment?

Whitey: I think we can handle that.

Sach: Come on. (He opens the door...or tries to.) Uh-oh. I think we gotta move the piano. I can't get the door open!

Whitey: *Nods* Okay, Sach.

(They pull the piano back. Sach goes to open the door...and this time, does get it open.)

Sach: Ok. I'll take the front. You take the back.

Whitey: Sure, Sach.

(The two push the piano into the apartment. They stop in the living room. Sach flops on the couch.)

Sach: Boy, am I bushed!

Whitey: *Flops next to Sach on the couch* Me, too!

(The door opens again as Whitey joins Sach. Butch and Slip carries Chuck between them. He's still sleeping.)

Sach: Wow, he really got worn out!

Butch: He did have the hardest job.

Slip: I only had it briefly, an' that was enough.

Butch: Should we dump him in our room, or the couch?

Sach: Oh no! I'm here!

Slip: In the room. I hate to make Sach move.

Butch: Then let's do that. (He smiles over Chuck as they head to their room) Guys...thanks for doing this for me. Music means everything to me. I missed having a piano so much, it almost hurt.

Sach: (Nods) I understand, Butchy. I wouldn't know what to do without my chemistry set!

Slip: I would.

Butch: (Grins at Slip) Come on, let's get this dead weight into bed, then see if we can all rest our own muscles.

Sach: You do that. I'm gonna take a nap myself. (He pulls his cap over his eyes and lays back on the couch.)

(We end with Slip and Butch carrying the still-sleeping Chuck into one of the curtained-off "bedrooms" while the other two lean back and close their own eyes. The camera falls on the two men in the living room and the unharmed piano as we fade out.)