Maranello - the F1 soap opera

Episode Seven

Scene 1 - The luxurious motorhome of a well-known auto racing team, parked in the Hockenheim paddock. JACQUES is sitting fiddling with a computer keyboard when HEINZ comes sidling in.

HEINZ: Umm.... Jacques... umm, have you got a minute?
JV: Hang on til I finish looking over these telemetry traces.

(HEINZ comes over to look over his shoulder.)

HEINZ: The orc hits you -more- ... the orc hits you -more- ... You die. Oh, dear. Bad luck.
JV: Shit.

(He pushes the keyboard away and stands up.)

JV: What's on your mind?
HEINZ: Um... I just wondered if you could put in a good word for me with Craig.
JV: I thought you were all sorted out for next season?
HEINZ: So did I. At least, after Frank and Bernie got together. But apparently Minardi have signed two other drivers and don't have room for me.
JV: That's bad luck.
HEINZ: Isn't it. Their lawyer said I could become their test driver if I wanted. Then Gianluca guffawed, in a really nasty way, and said I already was a test driver. I got really upset.
JV: That's not very nice.
HEINZ: Anyway, the upshot of it all is, I've booked my holidays to Disneyland already and now I don't know how I'm going to pay for it. And I was hoping to get my aunt and uncle a new house, but that's all gone out of the window no w. I don't even know how I'll pay the rent if I can't get a job soon.
JV: (putting a consoling arm round HEINZ' shoulder) I'll talk to Craig. God knows I'd rather have you around than some of the others he's been mentioning. Every time I go into his motorhome there's another has-been sitting ther e with his manager, drinking all the mineral water.
HEINZ: Is that why you didn't go next door this year?
JV: For sure, it was a good offer they made me. But I didn't fancy the choice of co-drivers - a space cadet or a scheming android. At least with you I'd know where I was.
HEINZ: (touched) Thanks, Jacques.

(There is a knock on the door and THE BIG GUV'NOR appears.)

GUV: If you gentlemen can spare a moment or two, the qualifying session is about to start. Only if you're not busy, of course. No hurry or anything.
HEINZ: Sorry, sir! I forgot the time!

(He scuttles off towards the garage.)

GUV: That goes for you too, sonny.
JV: In a minute.
GUV: What the hell is that on your head this week?
JV: It's a map of the Jerez circuit done in black and white hair dye. See, this here over my left temple is meant to be the corner where Michael barged me off last year. It's supposed to freak him out so he qualifies behind me today. And over here behind my right ear is the gravel trap...
GUV: Better make sure Jos Verstappen doesn't try to drive into your head then.
JV: Um.
GUV: Anyway, come ON! You still work for me til the end of the year, sunshine! Jump to it!

(JACQUES slouches out of the motorhome and walks with studied insolence towards the garage.)

Scene 2 - The garage of another well-known auto racing team at Hockenheim circuit. A famous American film star and his wife are attempting to gain entry. A red-clad SECURITY GUARD is in their way.

GUARD: You no come in here. You no have the passes.
FILMSTAR: Hey, greaseball, I am a personal friend of your employer, and he specifically invited us along today!
GUARD: I check. Hold please.

(The GUARD mutters in Italian into a two-way radio. In the background, a petite brunette saunters past in blue overalls about a foot too long for him and a tall blonde man in silver overalls wanders around looking disoriented.)

FILMSTAR: Hey, bozo, what about our goddamn passes?
GUARD: Momenti, signor. Please.
WIFE: Why the heavy security anyway? It's worse than the goddamn Pentagon round here. It's only a buncha goddamn cars.

(In answer, the GUARD points theatrically to two holes atop the pitlane canopy.)

GUARD: See there? A crazy woman, she try to keel Michael Schumacher. She only succeed in shooting the laptop. But you cannot be too careful, no?
FILMSTAR: (shuddering) Hell, no! (to WIFE) Honey, do you want to go somewhere and grab some champagne before it all starts?
WIFE: Sure.

(In the background, we see MICHAEL discussing something with EDDIE.)

MS: Repeat it all back to me, then we can get out of here.
EDDIE: OK. Two clicks on the inter-car radio means slow down. Three means spin off. Four means drive into Mika Hakkinen.
MS: Good, good.
EDDIE: (jocular) Still, mate, I'm going to me giving you a hard time this weekend!
MS: (distastefully) I doubt that.
EDDIE: I am so! See, Jean and Ross have developed this special new braking system. And they're only putting it on my car! Haha!
MS: (generously) Every once in a while it's only fair you should get the first go of the new equipment.
EDDIE: You're so good to me. I couldn't wish for a better team-mate.
MS: Neither could I, Edmund, neither could I.

(A MINION enters.)

MINION: Sir! It's almost time to begin.
MS: Thank you. Have security swept the area?
MINION: Si, signor. No more crazy women in fur coats in the area.
MS: Excellent. I do believe we are almost ready to begin.

Scene 3 - Inside Bernie's motorhome.

(BERNIE, his WIFE and BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER are in the motorhome. He is surrounded by large television screens showing the digital feed of the qualifying, except for one which is screening 'Beverly Hills 90210' for his daughter, and another which sh ows the Shopping Channel for his bleary, tearful wife.)

WIFE: Darling, I've just remembered - I left my Michael Schumacher engraved tampon box in my suitcase in the hospitality suite. I'll just be a moment -
BERNIE: (firmly) Darling, I'll send someone over to get it. I don't want you wandering around out there after what happened last week.
WIFE: (sobbing) But darling, it is torture - to be so near and yet so far away!
BERNIE: I haven't got much choice after the way you behaved last week. I've never been so embarrassed in my life. Do you realise how much I had to bribe the local police to avoid charges against you?
WIFE: I was confused. I was heartbroken. I am a woman - I cannot be rational, calm and precise... I have feelings!
BERNIE: Your feelings? What about my bloody feelings?
WIFE: It's news to me that you have any.
BBD: Mummy! Daddy! Stop it, for goodness' sake!
BERNIE: Princess, I'm sorry. Your mother and I are just having a bad patch at the moment. Nothing to worry about.
BBD: Please. Can't you just get a divorce like normal people? I'm going for a hamburger.

(She flounces out.)

BERNIE: We've got to do something about that girl.
WIFE: (bitterly) What? Break her spirit, just as you've crushed mine?

(There is a knock at the door. BERNIE answers it and finds HEINZ-HARALD standing there.)

BERNIE: What the hell do you think you're doing here?
HEINZ: Sorry, sir. Um... I just wondered... Um, I can't think of anyone else...
BERNIE: Spit it out, for Christ's sake.
HEINZ: Well, I heard you were paying Frank some money to get Alex to come to F1 next year...
BERNIE: And who told you that?
HEINZ: A little bird.
BERNIE: Woody bloody Woodpecker, no doubt. Anyway - so what if I am?
HEINZ: (showing a flash of defiance) If you don't get me that seat at Sauber, I'm going to expose you to the press!
BERNIE: The press all know, and they don't give a toss. Come back when you've got balls, son.
HEINZ: (slyly) But the press don't know about your daughter and Jacques Villeneuve, do they? Or about why he was in that Spanish clinic! Or about your wife having an affair with Giancarlo!
BERNIE: (sighing) You're threatening the wrong man, sonny. Craig's motorhome is the next one down. I couldn't care less what the press says about Jacques.
HEINZ: It's not fair! If you can pay for Alex, why not me?
BERNIE: Alex Zanardi hasn't seduced my only daughter, has he!
HEINZ: (bitchily) Are you sure?

(BERNIE'S WIFE staggers, eyes puffy and vodka glass in hand, to the door.)

WIFE: What is all the noise about? Can't you see I'm unwell?
BERNIE: Nothing, dear.
HEINZ: Good afternoon, Mrs Ecclestone.
WIFE: (drunkenly) Come in, darling. Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you a drinkie?
BERNIE: (firmly) Herr Frentzen has a job to do, darling. Go back inside and I'll be back in a tick.
HEINZ: I mean it. I'll go to the press anyway.
BERNIE: I'll have a chat to Peter, but I can't promise anything.
HEINZ: Thank you, sir.
BERNIE: Now piss off, all right?

(HEINZ scuttles off back to his own garage. BERNIE closes the door, a long-suffering expression on his face. But as he climbs the stairs, he is horrified to hear a muffled shot, and a trickle of blood inching its way towards him on the expensiv e carpet...)

 

Previous Episode Next Episode Front Page About the author Email me!
prev next front author e-mail