Leo and Gregory Parker and Leo returned to Grape Villa in the middle of the night. Leo vomited and went to sleep in the dark as soon as he entered the house. Victor sent Gregory Parker to sleep, then washed his face, woke up his mind, walked to the desk, and began to complete the task assigned by John Ford, the final script of "The Grapes of Angry".

After installing paper on the typewriter and staring at the blank space, Victor realized that this thing that he thought was easy was not simple.

Although I have watched the movie "The Grapes of Angry" several times in later generations, what remains in my mind is just a general impression. It is impossible to remember the specific story, especially the details.

It would be basically impossible to create something exactly the same as the true script of "The Grapes of Angry" in history.

Therefore, we can only complete it with our own memory as much as possible. Of course, there will always be some of our own performance in it.

Victor thought about it for a while, took a deep breath, and his soft and slender fingers fell on the typewriter. Soon, there were endless crackling sounds in the room.

Gregory Parker, who had just finished taking a shower, walked in wearing a vest, and was obviously a little curious when he saw Victor sitting next to the typewriter.

Parker did not dare to disturb Victor, sat down on the chair next to him, picked up the few pages of the manuscript printed by Victor and placed next to him and read it.

At first, Parker looked casually, rubbing his wet hair with a towel while watching, but soon, a complicated look appeared on Parker's face.

This expression is sometimes excited, sometimes sad, sometimes entangled, sometimes angry.

"Mr. Fellow, is there any more?" When the last page of the script was finished, Parker couldn't help but come to Victor.

"How is this story?" Victor smiled.

"Great! This script is great!" Gregory Parker excitedly pulled his vest and said, "How to say it, Mr. Ferro, your script is very different from the stories of movies or dramas I have seen before. To be precise, it should be different in style! Your script tells a story of flesh and blood. You point your brushstrokes and lenses to the current American world, to the precious and sad humanity. You tell an American story and an American farmer story, but it actually reflects this sad world. What I can say is a continuation of Tolstoy's style."

Gregory Parker is not a person who is good at sweet talk. On the contrary, this guy doesn't talk much and is very shy. This sentence makes Victor very embarrassed.

"It's not that good, I'm just writing and playing." Victor waved his hand.

Gregory Parker felt that Victor might have taken what he said just now as flattery, and hurriedly argued: "Mr. Ferro, my words just now are all sincere. I really didn't expect that you are such a profound person."

"Deep man?" The drunk Leo swayed in, holding a bottle in his hand, pointing at Victor, "Deep bullshit! This is basically a miserable person. Damn, I made a baby with $500..."

Gregory Parker was about to go up and fight with Leo in anger, and Victor persuaded them to stop.

"If you two have the strength to fight, you might as well help me complete this script together," Victor suggested.

Leo and Gregory Parker finally sat obediently across from Victor, and the three of them kept making their own opinions facing the printer and the first draft.

"Mr. Ferro, I think this detail of you is unreal. I have been to the police station, and the police are rarely interested in wanderers outside, unless these people have angered them because of something, I think you can design a provocative detail..."

"You can't write this way when fighting, you have to be very excited. You're just a slut here!"

"And here, can you add a woman here!?"

...

Amid the noise of the three people, the typewriter was crackling all night.

In the early morning, the first ray of sunlight leaked in from the window frame and projected onto three haggard faces.

"It's dawn." Victor pushed open the window, and the refreshing morning air rushed in, blowing away the smoke of cigarettes and alcohol in the room, making Victor's drowsy mind suddenly clear.

Walking to the typewriter and sorting out the manuscripts, Victor breathed a long sigh.

That night, it was not in vain. Finally, the first draft of the script of "The Grapes of Angry" was produced. Although it was a little different from the real script in history, basically 80% of the content was similar. What Victor felt particularly satisfied was that after the collective discussion of three people, the newly added content became more close to the times. This script satisfies Victor.

"Let's go, go to 20th Century Fox." Victor put the script in his bag like baby, and turned to Leo and Gregory Parker.

Leo lay on the bed and said in pain: "I won't go! I'm so sleepy that I want to go to you!"

Gregory Parker picked up his coat and said to Victor: "Mr. Ferro, I will accompany you! I am very confident in your script."

The two left Grape Villa and trotted all the way to the headquarters of 20th Century Fox.

In John Ford's office, an hour has passed since he went to work, and John Ford is still missing.

"Is there something wrong with Mr. Ford today?" Victor looked at his watch and smiled at the two screenwriters of Ford.

Nonali and Steinbeck looked at each other and smiled.

"Young people, sometimes, you need to be a little smart. Mr. Ford asked you to write scripts, but he just said casually. If no matter who you can write scripts, why do you want someone like us? You said, right?" Steinbeck said with a smile without a smile.

This movie was adapted by John Ford from a novel by Steinbeck. It can be said that the story of "The Grapes of Angry" is generally derived from Steinbeck's novel, so the person who has the greatest opinion of Victor is naturally Steinbeck.

Victor smiled and didn't say anything more.

"William, you dare not explain this to me clearly. I will give up shooting, there will be no door! Otherwise, if I leave your broken company, I will have more places to go to Hollywood!" John Ford's signature roar came from where I walked.

Then there was another person's laughter: "John, it doesn't work to be anxious. This is Hollywood, not your Western Tavern. You also know that this company is not the one who decides this company. I do this and I am responsible for the company. There are too many problems in your current script and have been killed by the board of directors. Your current choice is either to give up or modify it, and don't let me do anything else."

"I chose to roll the bed and leave!" John Ford was like a stubborn donkey.

Victor walked out and happened to be with these two people.

Next to John Ford, an old man in his fifties was standing. He was not too tall, dark-skinned, wearing a plaid suit and holding a pipe in his hand.

"Victor!? Why are you here? Go back first, let me know about the character matters when I get it done." John Ford rolled his eyes to Victor.

These words made Victor laugh and cry.

Damn, this movie master has a bad memory.

"Uncle John, I'm here to send you a script." Victor smiled.

"Script!?" John Ford and the little old man next to Ford were stunned at the same time.

"Yes, you just learned the script of the movie that was killed." Victor spread his hands.

####

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