Maranello - the F1 soap opera

Episode 1

Scene 1 - The garage of a well-known auto racing team at the Catalunya circuit.

It's Thursday. Everyone is getting ready for the weekend ahead, and various mechanics are busying themselves with the cars, but there's still some time to wander to the pit wall, have a gossip, and take the piss out of the Stewart Ford truckies.

Round the back of the garage, in stark contrast to the organised efficiency of the men within, we see a beautiful but disordered young woman - BERNARD'S BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER - emerging from the motorhome. Her cheeks are flushed and her determined chin thrust forward in fury: we can clearly see that she is feisty, strong and independent, a true Nineties babe. Two tall men, obviously armed, maintain a discreet but watchful distance as she comes down the steps, tucking her Prada shirt into her short, tight Gucci skirt and almost tripping over her Manolo Blahniks - suddenly, with a clatter, she drops her armful of feminine accoutrements.

BBD: Goddamnit!

(The mechanics stop their work and are discreetly eyeing her as she gathers her purse, sunglasses and pit passes together. As she bends down awkwardly, they realise she isn't wearing any underwear.)

BBD: What the fuck are you looking at?

(The mechanics swiftly make busy with their equipment.)

BBD: If you don't quit ogling me, asshole, I'll talk to my father. He'll make sure you can't even get a job changing wheelnuts in Formula Ford next season!

BBD tosses her luxuriant chestnut tresses and stalks, head held high, into the back of the garage. Suddenly, she spies a diminutive blond man - JACQUES - in an oversized Nomex jumpsuit standing beside one of the skeleton cars, and her face is instantly transformed by an angelic smile as she makes a beeline for him.)

BBD: Hey, how's it going?
JV: Like shit. (long pause) Shouldn't you be at school or something?
BBD: Screw school. I'm finished with that shit. Besides, I don't think they have anything left to teach me. (She smiles and licks her lips seductively.)
JV: Never bothered much with it myself. So what are you up to now?
BBD: Actually I'm putting a film together
JV: What's it called?
BBD: Penises of the Rich and Famous. Kinda like that Paula Yates book, y'know, Rock Stars in their Underwear. (She seizes the front of his Nomex jumpsuit and presses close to him, whispering - )I really think you should be in it.
JV: (frantically trying to catch the eye of one of the mechanics) Uh maybe. Look, I really gotta run. Nice, uh, seeing you again. Give my regards to your father, yeah?
BBD: Why don't you give them to him yourself? Come to our hotel this evening. Maybe we could even have dinner?
JV: (glaring at the giggling mechanics, none of whom have ambled over to help him out) Sorry, I've got a prior engagement. Mika and I are gonna hike into the mountains and meditate over the sunrise. You know, help us focus. I guess we'll just grab some nuts and berries or something on the way up.
BBD: Too bad, hey. Next time, maybe?
JV: Sure. Uh, look, there's Jock. Gottagoseeyabye!

(He hurries over to his race engineer, who has just emerged from the motorhome).

Engineer: Hey, Jacques. (wryly) Maybe we should put her in the spare car and qualify her on the grid behind you.
JV: For sure, it's the only fucking way I'd get on pole with this car.

(The two begin poring over the latest testing telemetry, and we cross fade into - ).

Scene 2 - A luxurious suite at the Hotel Marmoset, Barcelona

(A beautiful but middle-aged woman, her tear-ravaged face still stunning and her clothes elegant, is sobbing piteously into a Baccarat glass full of chilled Stolichnaya. Beside her on the brocaded sofa is a mature, bespectacled and greying man - BERNARD, the international tycoon and businessman - his power evident in the set of his shoulders and the eye which keeps straying to the pile of faxes on the writing desk across the room.)

Wife: (through sobs) It wouldn't be so bad if he would just LOOK at me! (She slugs down some vodka.)
Bernard: I know, sweetie, I know.
Wife: (turning to face Bernie) I know things haven't been so good with us for a while. You're away so often...
Bernard: I know, sweetie, I know.
Wife: ... and he paid me so much attention at first, when he was new. Every time he got on the podium, he would give me his special smile and wave at me - and then later he would feed me Moet from the cup when we were alone together - sniff...
Bernard: (suddenly animated) Was that the year the Moet bills suddenly went through the roof?
Wife: sniff - Whatever. But now, of course, he's Mr Big, the Double World Champion, with his hamster-faced wife and his silly little pug dog...

(She breaks into a fresh storm of weeping)

Bernard: Do you want me to do something about him? I can talk to Jean...
Wife: But I still LOVE him! (she weeps too hard to speak.)
Bernard: Baby, I know you do, but he's married now, and you have your reputation -
Wife: The hell with my reputation! Love is more important!
Bernard: Uh-huh, and is it "love" with Giancarlo too, then? (He stands up.)
Wife: (stops weeping at the sound of the sudden steel in his voice) Darling, you know it's only sex. He means nothing to me. You are my rock, my shining star, my destiny - (she takes another healthy swig of the vodka)
Bernard: And your meal ticket, huh?
Wife: (spitefully) Don't tell me *you* have never been with another woman!
Bernard: I know we have our little 'understanding'. I just don't like to see you make a fool of yourself with a younger man, baby, that's all. Everyone knows you are my wife. It's just not appropriate. It could affect the flotation!
Wife: (with distaste) Would you prefer me to screw some fat, old, American tobacco billionaire? Would that be "appropriate"?

(BERNARD shudders visibly.)

(WIFE throws the vodka into the fireplace and stamps out. BERNARD shakes his head and reaches for the pile of faxes on the antique Louis XVI writing desk.) Quick cut to:

Scene Three - The motorhome of another well-known auto racing team at Catalunya.

A tall, broad, chiselled man with an air of confidence - DAVID - and a slighter, blonder companion, with more hesitant body language - MIKA - are poring over the notebook computer on the desk while a margarita machine does its stuff in the background. FX: noisy shoot-em-up computer games noises.

DC: Hah! Got you again! That's 43-10 to me!
MH: Is not fair! You always win.
DC: You shouldn't keep bringing your spaceship in for refuelling when it doesn't need it.

(Heavy footsteps are heard and the door handle turns. Panicking, the two turn to the computer screen.

MH: Shit! Get the telemetry up again! Quick!
DC: This thing only has 4 MB RAM! Cover me while I restart it!

(Enter a powerful and slightly sinister figure - RON - resplendent in silver shirt, black trousers, and steely glare.)

RD: You boys got that telemetry problem figured out yet?
MH: Uh, sir, um, yes, sort of, David is just restarting the computer...
DC: I'll print out the revised pit stop scenarios and take them over to the garage in a minute. Sir.
RD: As you were. (He leaves).
DC: That was close.

(DAVID decides to change shirt and takes one off, sitting around gratuitously for a while before reaching for another one. Before he can put it on, there's another knock at the door.)

MH: Go away! We are working on important business!
MH: (aside, to DC) Did it save that last game?

(JACQUES pokes a scruffy blond head round the door, trying but not quite succeeding to avert his eyes from DAVID'S impressive musculature.)

JV: Does that include me?
DC: Depends why you're here.
JV: Just dropped by for a chat. I brought that Aruba Gold I was telling you about.
MH: (sighing) Does that mean I have to stand at the doorway polishing my sunglasses while you two get stoned again?
DC: Well, if Ron catches us, he's not going to care that you weren't actually smoking the stuff, is he? So it's in your own best interests to look out.
MH: That's a good point, David. (He goes to the doorway.)

(JV and DC proceed to skin up on top of the notebook case, using a photograph of Michael Schumacher as a roach. JV lights up and takes a draw, passing it over to DC.)

JV: So, David - what you up to tonight?
DC: Well, I'm meant to be meeting this blonde in the hotel bar at 8pm, and she claims she's got a twin sister, so I'm sort of going to see what develops, you know. Take it a bit easy, got to go to the gym early tomorrow before my Armani photoshoot. Might not stay late.
JV: (wincing) Oh well. Me and Mika Salo are going on an overnight trip out of town and we wondered if you fancied coming along? Only thing is, we've only got the two tents and Mika has to have one to himself for his snoring ...
DC: Sorry, mate. Not much of an outdoor type, me.
JV: (downcast) Sure. Another time?
DC: Sure thing.
MH: Psssst! You two! Here he is!

(DC and JV hurriedly extinguish the spliff and JV tucks the dog end into his overalls. A tense silence falls as they await the entry of RON.

MH: Hahahahahaha! Got you that time!
DC: (menacingly) You can forget about the podium this weekend, Mika my man.
MH: Come on, David, you know what Ron told you about the team orders!
JV: Uh, I better go. I guess.
DC: Got a hot date with Bernie's daughter? I think she likes you. (he leers) I've seen her having a good look at you in the pits.
JV: (horrified) God no! (pause) I mean, I don't think she's my type.
DC: Wouldn't mind finding out about her myself. I like my women feisty and strong, like my margaritas. If I could get past the queue of your gawping mechanics, of course. Maybe that's why your pit stops are taking so long this year? (He guffaws rudely.)
JV: (half to himself) Maybe they just all hate me. (he sniffs). Maybe they all recognise me for the miserable coward I am -
DC: Huh?
JV: Nothing. Gotta go. Here's Ron! Uh, hi Ron! (He practically sprints back to his own pit.)
RON: Got those printouts?
DC/MH: YESSIR!

Fade to black, and the theme music starts as we await the next exciting episode of Maranello! Will Bernard's Beautiful Daughter succeed in enticing the rumpled Jacques back to her hotel room - or will he have the courage to admit to the love that dare not speak its name? Can Bernard's wife ever overcome her love for the double world champion who so callously dumped her? Will David resist the temptation to exhibit his upper body development at every opportunity? Tune in next time to find out - (if the lawyers don't close me down first)..

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