SOUND: The bugle call transforms into a royal trumpet blast.
CLOSE-UP of POPRISHCHIN surveying his surroundings.
POPRISHCHIN V.O.
Madrid, February Thirtieth.
The CAMERA TRACKS BACK and reveals Poprishchin walking down the entrance hallway of the St. Petersburg "Hospital of All the Grieving" with "GRAND CHANCELLOR", the head of the asylum. The Chancellor is a tall, commanding figure who walks with a thick cane. Seated at the admissions desk behind them are GUARD #1 and GUARD #2.
POPRISHCHIN
So, We're in Spain. It was all so quick We can barely come to our senses.
The CAMERA PANS with Poprishchin and the Grand Chancellor as they cross to a door at the end of the hall.
POPRISHCHIN
(to the "Grand Chancellor")
I must say, this morning We were very excited when the Spanish delegation finally arrived. The extraordinary speed at which we traveled was bewildering. A half an hour to reach the Spanish border, incredible. But of course, the steamers move extremely fast with these cast iron roads they have all over Europe.
GUARD #3 opens the door for Poprishchin and the Grand Chancellor to exit the entrance hall.
CUT TO:
The door closes behind POPRISHCHIN and THE GRAND CHANCELLOR as they enter a narrow white corridor.
As the CAMERA TRACKS BACK, a DOZEN INMATES with shaved heads are revealed milling about in the hall in various states of mental disorder. Some are catatonic, some rambling, etc... Many are dressed in rather ordinary clothes, a few in robes. Along the walls of the corridor are the open doors to the inmate's tiny cells.
Poprishchin examines the scene, trying to make sense of Spain. The Grand Chancellor stops Poprishchin outside the door to one of the cells.
POPRISHCHIN
Oh, of course... How many Capuchin monks do We have?
The Grand Chancellor is angered by Poprishchin's last remark. Poprishchin finds the Grand Chancellor's behavior rather strange. The Grand Chancellor grabs Poprishchin and forcefully pushes him into the cell.
CUT TO:
POPRISHCHIN falls to the floor of his tiny bare cell. The cell has only a bed, a wooden box for a table and a stool. There is one small window, out of reach, high above the bed. Over the table hangs a sign that reads "Work to be modest and they will respect you."
The GRAND CHANCELLOR enters the cell, places the stool in the middle of the floor.
GRAND CHANCELLOR
Sit down! And if you call yourself King Ferdinand again, I'll King Ferdinand you all right.
Poprishchin sits on the stool confused by the Grand Chancellor who looms behind him with his cane raised in the air. Poprishchin nods with understanding.
POPRISHCHIN
We are Ferdinand VIII.
The Grand Chancellor strikes Poprishchin hard across the back with his cane.
Poprishchin winces in pain.
POPRISHCHIN (cont'd)
We are the King of Spain.
The Grand Chancellor strikes Poprishchin even harder as an OLD NAKED INMATE, runs past the cell screaming gibberish. He is being chased by GUARDS #4 and #5.
Poprishchin falls to the ground. The Grand Chancellor dashes out of the cell to get the situation under control.
A smile forms on the face of Poprishchin as he slowly rises to his feet.
Music cue: A man is humming the melody to "Grusha's/Sophie’s Song" accompanied by a pump organ..
SOUND: Billiard balls striking. Cut to: Full screen shot of the sign
“Work to be modest and they will respect you.”
CUT TO:
In the course of the following speech, the CAMERA FLOATS once around the perimeter of the inmate’s rest room. FIFTEEN INMATES and the INSANE CLERK from Poprishchin's office are taking part in the activities offered by the asylum as hobbies for their evening relaxation. The room could be mistaken for a men's club if it where not for the shaved heads and mental condition of the inmates.
The CAMERA TILTS DOWN to reveal GUARD #4 sitting under the sign by the doorway. GUARD #5 sits on the other side of the door next to a writing desk. At the writing desk sits the INSANE CLERK copying the credos from the signs on the wall over and over. An INMATE sews a leather bag at a work bench.
In an alcove between two sets of bookshelves are THREE INMATES reading. An INMATE sits in a chair next to an organ humming "Grusha's/Sophie’s Song". An INMATE plays "Grusha's/Sophie’s Song" on the organ. FOUR INMATES play cards. Against the wall stands a catatonic INMATE.
TWO INMATES play billiards. One is racking the balls. An INMATE stands against the wall figuring out his next chess move. An INMATE sits by himself playing chess. (In the course of his monologue, Poprishchin shifts from a state of calm to a full blown anxiety attack, ranting at the top of his lungs.)
POPRISHCHIN V.O.
Having past the Spanish custom of initiation into the exalted order of knighthood, I decided to occupy myself with affairs of state. First, I discovered that Spain and China are the same thing, and it's only ignorance that makes people take them for two separate countries. I recommend to anyone who doubts this, try to write 'Spain' on a piece of paper. It will always turn out 'China'. Next, We must also give much thought to
the grievous event that is due to occur tomorrow at eight o'clock. As foreseen by the famous English chemist, Wellington, the Earth will mount the Moon. We must confess that We have become
deeply worried, considering the Moon's extraordinary sensitivity and fragility. You see, the Moon is usually made in Hamburg, and very poorly We might add. I'm surprised England hasn't done something about it. It's this crippled barrel maker who
actually makes the Moon, and it's obvious the idiot has no conception of what the Moon should be made of. He uses tarred rope and linseed oil, and
that is why the stench is so awful all over the Earth, and why we are forced to go around plugging our noses.
And, that also explains why the Moon itself is such a delicate sphere, that men cannot live there, only noses. And that is how it is that we can't see our own noses: they're all living on the Moon!
And then when I thought, what a heavy thing the Earth is, why, when it mounts the Moon, it would crush our noses into powder, this so upset me that I quickly put on my stockings and shoes and rushed into the State Council room in order to command my Guards to not allow the Earth from mounting the Moon!
The CAMERA has arrived full circle at the doorway.
Poprishchin storms through the doors of the Rest Room in a panic. He frantically appeals to the inmates.
POPRISHCHIN
GENTLEMEN!!! GENTLEMEN!!!
Guard #4 runs out for help. Guard #5 reaches for Poprishchin.
POPRISHCHIN (cont'd)
Gentlemen, we must protect the Moon, the Earth desires to mount Her!
Cut to: The billiard balls are hit hard and scatter on the table.
Cut to: The CAMERA CIRCLES Poprishchin as he struggles with Guard #5. The chess players are thrown into a panic, desperately reaching towards the window.
Cut to: The organ player starts playing louder to drown out the noise.
Cut to: The CAMERA CIRCLES POPRISHCHIN as he struggles with Guard #5. The card players are climbing on top of their table and chairs, reaching towards the window.
POPRISHCHIN (cont'd)
Our noses will be crushed into powder! We must stop the Earth!
Cut to: The Insane Clerk writes the moral codes furiously.
Cut to: The CAMERA CIRCLES Poprishchin as he struggles with Guard #5. As one of the readers climbs atop his chair reaching towards the window, another reader runs towards Poprishchin for instruction.
POPRISHCHIN (cont'd)
We must protect her. We must protect her.
The GRAND CHANCELLOR charges into the room, blowing a whistle. He spots Poprishchin.
Cut to: The insane clerk continues to write the moral codes furiously.
Cut to: The CAMERA CIRCLES POPRISHCHIN as he struggles with Guard #5. The inmates at the bookcase scatter.
The card players scatter.
The Grand Chancellor charges towards Poprishchin lifting his cane high in the air.
CUT TO:
The cane strikes Poprishchin in the back.
Cut to: Poprishchin falls to the floor.
The Grand Chancellor slams the cell door and locks it.
Poprishchin sits up and looks with pain and puzzlement at the door.
POPRISHCHIN V.O.
Such is the power of chivalrous customs in Spain.
DISSOLVE TO: