Maranello - the F1 soap opera

Episode Three

Scene One - The pit lane at the Hungaroring, on Sunday night.

Outside a garage painted half in blue, half in red with a revolving door, there are scenes of much debauchery. A CD player is blasting out primo Seventies funk hits, and all are circulating with champagne, margaritas, cigarettes and pert behinds in various combinations of hands.)

DC: Jacques! Do you want to borrow our margarita machine?
JV: Yesh... I think that would be a good idea. Mine can't cope with the demand.
DC: Mika will just pop down to our motorhome to get it.
MH: Is a good idea. I go.
DC: There's a couple of extra bottles of tequila under the sink. Um, they're in bottles marked 'Isotonic Rehydration Formula'. But I'm sure you can find them.

(MIKA wanders down towards a silver motorhome, where a balding man in a silver t-shirt is frantically banging on the door asking to be let in. Meanwhile, DC turns to his companion, a tallish dark-haired man with hazel eyes in a trenchcoat over a suit.)

DC: Can I get you and your delightful companion another margarita?
MULDER: Sure.
SCULLY: When you said we would go for a beer with him, I didn't realise it was going to be in Europe.

(Meanwhile JV drifts over to another group clad mostly in yellow.)

JV: Thanksh for coming, guysh.
HHF: Hey, no problem. Great party.
JV: Today wash the furthesht I've got all seashon. Sho I had to have a party.
HHF: Absolutely. When I won in France I had a real bash, too. (pause) Have you seen my beloved anywhere? She was standing over there a second ago but now she's wandered off.
JV: No, shorry. There'sh a cute looking redhead in a shuit over there though if you're intereshted.
HHF: No, no, not now I'm a married man.
JV: I hardly recognished you to be honesht.
HHF: New team, new outfit, new me! (He laughs.)
JV: What happened to the duck on the outshide of your shuit?
HHF: Well, Jacques... I've moved on. I went to Disneyland on vacation and it was great. But next time I go, it'll be with my son.
JV: Aaaaaaahhhhh, that's sho shweet. (He drapes an arm around HEINZ's shoulders.) Do you mish me?
HHF: (looking uncomfortable) Sure I do. We had a lot of good times.
JV: The besht, right?
HHF: Yeah, the best. Remember the time you took all those pills and puked over David's shoes?
JV: David's shoes... ah yeah. David.

(An older man with a salt-and-pepper beard comes up to them.)

DH: I think I'm gonna go home now guys. Great party! Thanks a lot!
JV: Bye.

(There is an awkward pause.)

HHF: Ooops, sorry.
JV: It'sh okay.
HHF: So have you been up to Edinburgh yet?
JV: Shakeshpeare's not my thing.
HHF: Not hers either, from what I hear.

(The older man comes back towards them.)

DAMON: Changed my mind, decided to come back - I see there's another margarita machine just arrived. Do you want me to go and get my guitar and give it a few licks?
JV: Thatsh all right, thanks, Damon.

(JV wanders back over to DC, MULDER and SCULLY.)

JV: Hey, Dave, my man,.
DC: Hey, Jacques. You might have forgotten how to finish races, but you'll never forget how to party.
JV: (peers owlishly at him) Have you got any... you know?
DC: Any - ?
JV: I could do with a shmoke to take the edge of my nervesh. Heinz-Harald's wife ish looking at me with those big eyesh again.
DC: (drawing JV aside) These two are from the FBI! What are you trying to do to me?
MULDER: I've got some sunflower seeds.
JV: Thanksh, but no thanksh.

(MIKA SALO drifts by, clad in black leather.)

MIKA: Great party! Do you want to be introduced to some grid girls?
JV: Hash Eddie left any behind?
MIKA: (grimacing) A couple, I think.

(They glance over to the corner of the garage where EDDIE IRVINE is feeding three giggling blonde women champagne from his Bridgestone cap.)

JV: It'sh okay. I have given up on love for ever.
MIKA: That's a shame.

(Suddenly, there is the sound of helicopter blades thudding and a hush falls over the gathering as all look to the sky. Slowly, the helicopter lands and out steps a figure shrouded in a black leather trenchcoat, aided by a silver crutch.)

MS: So. This is what you do the moment my back is turned.

(Utter silence falls.)

MS: I am gone for, what, three weeks? A mere breath, a microsecond in the sphere of human history. And there is nothing here but revelry and debauchery. Sodom and Gomorrah comes to Hungary.
JV: It'sh jusht a party.
MS: We have no time for parties. Edmund!
EI: What the... aw, Jesus. Jacques, did you spike the margarita machine again? I'm seeing things!
MS: I am no apparition, Edmund. I am merely myself. Back on the block.
EI: So I, er, see. Um.... how's your leg?
MS: (silkily) Good enough to kick your backside all the way around the track, Edmund.
EI: (shuddering) Look, I can explain...
MS: You can explain on the way to Maranello. Get in.

(He gestures to the helicopter and EDDIE, chastened, slinks towards it, still clutching the bottle of champagne.)

SALO: Hang on a second. You're not supposed to be even able to walk yet.

(MICHAEL withers him with a single glance.)

MS: Enjoy the rest of your evening. I'll see you in Belgium. (He turns to climb back into the helicopter.)

(He pauses, then turns around again.)

MS: All, that is, except you, of course. (He indicates SALO with a single pointed finger.)

(Someone hits the button on the CD player again and "Disco Inferno" rages out once more.)

JV: Jeshush. Did I really jusht see that?
DC: Sure did. I nearly wet myself laughing. Did you see Eddie's face?
JV: Yesh. (They both laugh hysterically for a few moments.)
DC: Let's have another margarita for the road.
JV: Which road?
DC: Here's to Belgium. Where you will finish in the points.
JV: I don't need thosh lasht three wordsh, but thanksh anyway.
DC: Cheers!
JV: Cheers!

(A sulky woman in a tight pink leather skirt suit from Escada teeters over to them.)

BBD: Great party, Jacques!
JV: Um, thanksh.
DC: Got to run - Mika's back with the margarita machine.
JV: (pleading glance) Can't I come with you?
DC: And desert the lady? Surely not.
JV: Uh-huh.
BBD: I was so pleased to see how far you got, Jacques.
JV: Thanksh.
BBD: You'll go all the way soon, I have no doubt.
JV: I hope so. I mean, on the track.
BBD: I know it's hard...
JV: Mmmmmm-hmmm.
BBD: But I know you can give us all what we need soon.
JV: I try.
BBD: (licking her lips) You need to take them from behind, more, baby. Passing, I mean.
JV: I do my besht.
BBD: (purring seductively) You know, if there's anything I can do to help you hit the heights, you have only to ask. My Daddy and I are with you all the way.
JV: Thanksh. Um, can I get you another drink?
BBD: (brightening) Sure.
JV: Be right back.

(He disappears into the crowd. Meanwhile, HEINZ-HARALD has spotted his paramour and is wending his way towards her.)

HHF: You're looking beautiful tonight, my darling.
BBD: (gritted teeth) Thank you, my love. I'm a little tired, though. Do you mind if I go home?
HHF: I'll come with you.
BBD: No, no, it's all right. Stay and have fun with your friends. I'll go home and see to little Harry.
HHF: If you're sure...
BBD: Quite sure. (They kiss, then she tip-taps away towards the exit.)

(Meanwhile, a short man in a baseball cap has buttonholed JV.)

SLY: Jacques! My man! Wonderful party. I say, you Formula One guys and girls really know how to tie one one. Back in Hollywood, everyone would have headed back to their coffins three hours ago.
JV: (laughs) Life'sh too short to worry about that shit. Look at me - losing my hair, same height as you and Giancarlo Fisichella - but I don't care. There's moonlight, margaritas and music...
SLY: The thing is, Jacques, I really admire your attitude, but we might have a problem.
JV: Huh?
SLY: The money boys back in California, they've got a problem with the movie.
JV: What, there's not gonna be a movie?
SLY: Oh, sure there is, but you know I said you could be in it? You can play my buddy, right?
JV: I can't wait. I've been going to acting classes and everything.
SLY: There's only one problem.
JV: What?
SLY: Your hair. Or rather, your lack of hair.
JV: I'm not hairy enough to be in a Hollywood movie?
SLY: You could get a toupee. I know a guy in Palm Springs, brilliant guy, makes hairpieces, you'd never know it wasn't your real hair.
JV: (sarcastically) The same guy Eddie Jordan goes to, right?
SLY: Don't be like that.
JV: You could always get Alex Wurz in the movie. He's got loads of hair.
SLY: Well, you see, there's a problem with Alex. He's a great guy, but...
JV: Don't tell me. They can't find a soapbox big enough for you to stand on in your scenes with him, right?
SLY: (stung) I'll talk to you when you're done drinking, OK?
JV: Do that.

(MULDER has drawn DC aside for a quiet word in the shadow of the BAR trailer.)

MULDER: Where do we go next with this?
DC: I don't know. Maybe you could try whatever you tried at the British Grand Prix again.
MULDER: I told you, we had nothing to do with that.
DC: Haven't you got enough data to sort this out yet?
MULDER: We've got to get back to the US. I picked up a copy of the National Enquirer at the airport and there's a flesh-eating coelacanth stalking the subways of New York City. I bet the manila folder is hitting my in-tray even as we speak.
DC: Look, I'm grateful for your help. But what evidence have we got?
MULDER: You want my honest opinion? I've met aliens. Your friend isn't one.
DC: (sighing) It was worth a try.
MULDER: Sure.
DC: Stay in touch.
MULDER: We will.
DC: Especially Scully.
MULDER: I'll try to persuade her to send you an e-mail now and again.
DC: Better than nothing.
MULDER: Good luck.
DC: Thanks.

Scene Two - The same place, three hours later.

JACQUES is kicking at an empty margarita glass desultorily.

JV: Nothing's really changed. My season is still a disaster. I still see Louise Goodman every time I come to a circuit. She's still taller than I am...

(His reverie is interrupted by a voice from the shadows.)

BBD: I can make you feel better, darling.

(She walks forward, unbuttoning her pink leather bustier as she does.)

JV: Uh - no, I mean, you don't have to...
BBD: Come to me and forget all the bad times.
JV: But you're a married woman! A mother!
BBD: I'm still a woman!

(She suddenly abandons the attempt at seduction and sits down on a step.)

BBD: Six months on and my life is over! Harry screams all the time, Heinz-Harald is always at the gym, or testing, or with his engineer - I used to see him all the time but now he's always working.
JV: But surely you can afford a nanny, some servants...
BBD: Mummy and Daddy won't help out. They won't even see me. Said something about how they'd hoped I would make something of myself, inherit the business...
JV: You still can.
BBD: I never wanted to anyway.
JV: (yawning) Both of us have made a mess of this year, haven't we?
BBD: We sure have.
JV: Things will get better.
BBD: Maybe we should... comfort each other.
JV: I don't think that's a good idea.
BBD: You don't find me attractive any more now that I've had a baby.
JV: I never found you attractive in the first place.
BBD: You bastard! (She slaps him.)

(She stands, hands on hips, her face furious.)

BBD: I could have helped you! I could have sorted things out for you! I could have made sure you finished a race! But no, you had to be smart...
JV: I'm hungover already and it's only three a.m. Just go home, OK?
BBD: You haven't seen the last of me yet.

(She whirls round and walks off, heels clacking on the tarmac.)

So... will BERNIE'S DAUGHTER have her evil revenge? What exactly will MICHAEL SCHUMACHER do to EDDIE in that helicopter? And who will have the biggest hangover come morning? Stay tuned...

 

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