J. Rowling - Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

A glamorous goblin jazz singer croons on a stage full of goblin musicians, smoky images wafting from her wand to illustrate her lyrics. All is dingy and shabby, an atmosphere of menacing fun.

JAZZ SINGER

Jacob stands at the seemingly unmanned bar, waiting to be served.

JACOB

How do I get a drink in this joint?

Out of nowhere, a thin bottle of brown liquid zooms toward him. He catches it, stunned.

The head of a house-elf peers up at him from behind the bar.

HOUSE-ELF

What? Ain’t you ever seen a house-elf before?

JACOB

Oh, no, yeah, no, yeah, of course I have . . . I love house-elves.

Jacob tries to act nonchalant—he removes the cork from the bottle.

JACOB

My uncle’s a house-elf.

The house-elf—not fooled—raises himself up, leaning on the bar to stare at Jacob.

Queenie approaches. She looks downcast as she orders:

QUEENIE

Six shots of gigglewater and a lobe blaster, please.

The house-elf reluctantly shuffles off to fulfill her request. Jacob and Queenie look at each other. Jacob reaches out and takes one of the gigglewater shots.

QUEENIE

Are all No-Majs like you?

JACOB

(trying to be serious, almost seductive)

No, I’m the only one like me.

Maintaining strong eye contact with Queenie, Jacob knocks back the shot. Suddenly he emits a raucous, high-pitched giggle. Queenie laughs sweetly at his look of surprise.

ANGLE ON A HOUSE-ELF serving a drink to a giant, whose hand dwarfs the mug he is handed.

ANGLE ON NEWT AND TINA sitting at a table alone. There’s an awkward silence. Newt studies the characters in the room: Hooded and heavily scarred witches and wizards gamble magical artifacts in a game with runic dice.

TINA

(looking around)

I’ve arrested half of the people in here.

NEWT

You can tell me to mind my own business . . . but I saw something in that death potion back there. I saw you—hugging—that Second Salem boy.

TINA

His name’s Credence. His mother beats him. She beats all those kids she adopted, but she seems to hate him the most.

NEWT

(realizing)

And she was the No-Maj you attacked?

TINA

That’s how I lost my job. I went for her in front of a meeting of her crazy followers—they all had to be Obliviated. It was a big scandal.

Queenie signals from across the room:

QUEENIE

(whispers)

It’s him.

Gnarlak has emerged from the depths of the speakeasy. Smoking a cigar and smartly dressed for a goblin, he has a sly, smooth demeanor like a Mafia boss. He eyes the newcomers as he walks.

JAZZ SINGER (O.S.)

Gnarlak sits himself at the end of their table, an air of confidence and dangerous control. A house-elf hastily brings him a drink.

GNARLAK

So—you’re the guy with the case full of monsters, huh?

NEWT

News travels fast. I was hoping you’d be able to tell me if there have been any sightings. Tracks. That sort of thing.

Gnarlak downs his drink. Another house-elf brings him a document to sign.

GNARLAK

You’ve got a big price on your head, Mr. Scamander. Why should I help you instead of turnin’ you in?

NEWT

I take it I’ll have to make it worth your while?

The house-elf scurries off holding the signed document.

GNARLAK

Hmm—let’s consider it a cover charge.

Newt pulls out a couple of Galleons and slides them across the table toward Gnarlak, who barely looks up.

GNARLAK

(not impressed)

Huh—MACUSA’s offerin’ more’n that.

A beat.

Newt pulls out a beautiful metal instrument and places it on the table.

GNARLAK

Lunascope? I got five.

Newt rummages in his coat pocket and pulls out a glowing, frozen ruby egg instead.

NEWT

Frozen Ashwinder egg!

GNARLAK

(finally interested)

You see—now we’re—

Gnarlak suddenly spots Pickett, who is peeking out of Newt’s pocket.

GNARLAK

—wait a minute—that’s a Bowtruckle, right?

Pickett quickly retreats and Newt puts a hand protectively over his pocket.

NEWT

No.

GNARLAK

Ah, come on, that’s a Bowtruckle—they pick locks—am I right?

NEWT

You’re not having him.

GNARLAK

Well, good luck gettin’ back alive, Mr. Scamander, what with the whole of MACUSA on your back.

Gnarlak gets up and walks away.

NEWT

(in agony)

All right.

Gnarlak, turned away from Newt, smiles viciously.

Newt extracts Pickett from his pocket. Pickett clings to Newt’s hands, madly clicking and whining.

NEWT

Pickett . . .

Newt slowly hands Pickett over to Gnarlak. Pickett reaches his little arms forward, imploring Newt to take him back. Newt cannot look at him.

GNARLAK

(regarding Pickett)

Ah yeah . . .

(to Newt)

Somethin’ invisible’s been wreakin’ havoc around Fifth Avenue. You may wanna check out Macy’s department store. Might help with what you’re looking for.

NEWT

(sotto voce)

Dougal . . .

(to Gnarlak)

Right, one last thing. There’s a Mr. Graves who works at MACUSA—I was wondering what you knew of his background.

Gnarlak stares. A sense that there is much that he could say—and that he’d rather die than say it.

GNARLAK

You ask too many questions, Mr. Scamander. That can get you killed.

ANGLE ON A HOUSE-ELF carrying a crate of bottles.

HOUSE-ELF

MACUSA ARE COMING!

The house-elf Disapparates. Other customers throughout the bar hurriedly do the same.

TINA

(getting to her feet)

You tipped them off!

Gnarlak stares at them, chuckling menacingly.

Behind Queenie, the wanted posters on the wall update to show Newt’s and Tina’s faces.

Aurors begin Apparating into the speakeasy.

Jacob, seemingly innocent, saunters up to Gnarlak.

JACOB

Sorry, Mr. Gnarlak—

Jacob punches Gnarlak straight in the face, knocking him backward. Queenie looks delighted.

JACOB

—reminds me of my foreman!

Throughout the bar, various customers are being apprehended by the Aurors.

Newt scrambles about on the floor looking for Pickett. Around him, people are running, diving away from Aurors, trying to escape the bar. Newt finally finds Pickett on a table leg, grabs him, and runs toward his group.