Barbara enters the imposing structure that is The Bastille. As she puts her hand on the stone exterior she feels the rush of ancient criminals welling-up within here."But I'm no criminal, I loved my little wiggle-wattle!"A tear swells but then realizes it might be more useful later and holds itself in readiness."Madamoiselle, welcome to Paris. We are so sorry to have disturbed your stay in the American penal system, but hope that you will be able to find a small bit of happiness in the way we treat our murderers."Barbara realizes that it's not going to be all croissants and quennelles for her. She is led to what she expected to be her waiting accommodations, but turns out to be a packed courtroom! The trial was convened as her plane landed at de Gaulle and all the magistrates and maitres were ready."But who will speak in my defense?"Lucky for Barbara that she has taken courses in public speaking.
"Madamoiselle, but yourself, but of course."
The trial begins. It soon becomes apparent that Barbara is being railroaded for the murder of Areta von Kass. Eventually Barbara must take the stand, simply in order to be heard."Areta von Kass was no friend of mine!"Gasps and a few oh-la-la-la-la's."But my little wiggle wattle was more dear than my own life."The court translators work furiously on the idiomatics."If you must hate me, hate me for trying to protect her from her own destruction. There she was, without friends, without family, without money. I took her into my box, I gave her love and never asked too many questions. I only did what I felt I must..."The crowd, emotionally torn between their love for Areta and their compassion for this obviously very pleasant young woman, begins to see the shining innocence that surrounds Barbara."...and I tried so hard to do it well. If that is a crime in your country -- then I look forward to death as I could not bear to live here."Spontaneous applause, gavels pounding, much loud French discussion. And then a enormous thunder as the 300 year old oak doors are thrown open and a figure burns through."I know that hair...."Before Barbara has a chance to react the intruder begins to speak."Ladies and gentlemen, I know this woman well. This woman was my sister, my companion, we were almost a joint venture! This woman lies. She murdered Areta Von Kass and she will kill again if you allow her."Barbara is a bit perplexed."Beulah?"Beulah ignores Barbara."She may have pretty words for all of you, but remember I speak her language native, and I know the true meaning of her deceit. She merely pirates away your emotions, hijacks your sense of right and wrong. If I were you I would be worried about such a system that might let such a woman go free!"Barbara worries that things are not looking too good. Well, actually Beulah looks smashing as she must have spent a good day and a half on the Rue Faubourg St. Honoré putting together that outfit -- possibly even Valentino. And with reason, the crowd, obviously swayed by Beulah's apparent power and loud protestations, were beginning to view Barbara's head and body as two separate items."Beulah, can't we just talk this over? Why are you doing this? We were so close. This is so sudden and so unlike you. Could it be that I misjudged your basic evil nature? Is this all because you messed up with your premiere on The Data Lounge and then, angered by my success you have swore to all that is unholy that you must see me fail or else? I think I need a good attorney."Beulah continues to ignore Barbara's pleas as she rants and puffs to the angry mob. It really becomes quite unattractive. As Beulah's ramblings about Barbara's alleged misdeeds continue, and as Beulah, quite overwhelmed with the her affectations, begins to elaborate in detail on every wrong in her life -- which she attributes to Barbara -- everyone seems to forget that Barbara is in the room.
Everyone except one person. A wee little French boy, about 14 sneaks up to the witness stand where Barbara sits awed by her sister."Madamoiselle, please follow me."Barbara, having learned in elementary school to follow directions, a lesson reinforced in prison, picks up her bag and follows the boy out the back and into the sunlight.
Beulah and her audience have become so angry that they missed the entire escape.
"But excusay-mwa little French boy...isn't this dangerous?"Barbara shivers at the word, realizing how close she may have come.
"Madamoiselle Barbara, everyone knows you did not kill our Areta Von Kass and that it was simply someone that looks just like you -- it may even have been that loud woman who was saying those unfortunate words about you -- but since you were flown here at great expense, it was necessary to have some sort of spec-ta-cle."
"However, do not worry. Those people will all go home and have a wonderful lunch and most will likely not remember what happened except that if that unpleasant woman gives them indigestion, they may put her to the guillotine.""But you've been very kind, and I don't know your name?"What else..."Pierre."Even in her limited sense, Barbara cannot ignore the obvious. She faints.
"Well, Pierre, I really don't know how to thank you, but merci just the same. Now if I could only find a place to stay and a job until I can figure out what to do next."
"Madamoiselle Barbara, we have heard, mostly from Areta von Kass, of this great singer she knew... could that have been yourself?"
"My father runs a small brasserie which a night sometimes has performances and also lectures on empathicalism. I am sure that he would be very pleased to have you there."
"Oh Pierre. That would be so wonderful. I need to sing to help block the pain of the past few days and I am sure it would help me with my jet lag. What is your father's bar called?"
"Le Bar des données."
The mysterious "M," spending too much time on the necessary functions of his yapping box of hair, was completely waylaid at the craft services table by an overindulgent caterer and missed his entrance in a rather tedious dream sequence where he was to play a dual cameo of "Barbette" and "Le Petomane" come back from cabaret heaven to give Barbara strength before her Parisian opening. Luckily this scene was dropped in an emergency on set development meeting.
The camera operator negotiations may yet be resolved.