(An original-ish Screenplay by Lee Saunders & Aaron Pomerantz)
[SCENE: February 2021, Neve Tirza Prison for Women]
Narrator (sounding a bit like Sara Netanyahu. But definitely *NOT* Morgan Freeman): I must admit I didn’t think much of Bar, first time I laid eyes on her. She might’ve been important in Hollywood, but here in the joint she was just another woman in prison grays. Looked like a stiff breeze could blow her over. I bet the other inmates that she would crack under the pressure the first night….cost me two packs of cigarettes. She never made a sound, if you ignore the hairdryer, chatting on a satellite phone, and name-dropping. I could see why some of the girls took her for snobby. A talk and a strut that just wasn’t normal around here. She strolled. Like a woman with the best lawyer in the world and a cute blonde goysicher ex-boyfriend.
(Scene: The prison roof. Inmates are laying down tar. Sara Netanyahu is the prisoner trustee in charge of the detail. Bar is sunbathing.)
Sara (to another inmate): And now it looks like we need to declare the champagne, cigars, and clothes as income! Can you believe it???
Bar: Excuse me Sara, do you trust your husband?
Sara (dismissively): Of course not, don’t be ridiculous…. but we’re still throwing you off this roof for your chutzpanit.
(Two burly women grab Bar)
Bar (speaking quickly): Because I know a way that you can avoid declaring those gifts by putting them in your husband’s name!
Sara: Leave her alone, girls.
(The women let Bar go)
Sara: OK…. I’m listening Mami.
Narrator: And that’s how it all started. Soon she was doing taxes for the wardens. She polished their shoes. I mean, SHE didn’t polish them, but one of her people did. She promised to introduce the guards to Gal Gadot if they just brought in some decent shampoo from SuperPharm.
Sara: Hey Bar, how did you smuggle in all of this bamba and moisturizer?
Bar: I got them from Ehud over in the Men’s Block. Now be a dear and help me smuggle the stuff I got from Duty Free. It’s waiting in the Elevator.
Sara (confused): Wait, when did we get an elevator?
Narrator: It got to be too much, we just couldn’t stand it. So me and the girls blew up a photo of my Bibi in the photocopier room, stuck it to the wall and gave her some nail clippers. Just to get her out of here.
EPILOGUE (spoken by a serious-sounding old dude): In the Spring of 2021, Refaeli escaped from Neve Tirza-shank Prison. She had spent 19 hours tunneling through the wall of her cell, which had all the solid foundations of a Tel Aviv apartment. Within a day, she was tremping it down to the Sinai.
Narrator: I have to remind myself that some birds aren’t meant to be caged. They are meant to live their quai-legal lives in the scorching Middle Eastern sun, surrounded by hash and snorkelers.
(Fade to Black)