QUEENIE: "Teenie -- you brought men home?"
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QUEENIE (unconcerned): "Oh, sure --"
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The group enters the Goldstein apartment.
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She runs her wand up the dummy and the dress runs magically up her body. Jacob watches the display, dumbfounded.
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Blond Queenie, the most beautiful girl ever to don witches' robes, is standing in a silk slip, supervising the mending of a dress on a dressmaker's dummy. Jacob is thunderstruck.
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INT. GOLDSTEIN RESIDENCE, SITTING ROOM -- DUSK
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Tina, frustrated, starts tidying the apartment.
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TINA: "Gentlemen, this is my sister. You want to put something on, Queenie?"
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Although impoverished, the apartment is enlivened by workaday magic. An iron is working away on its own in a corner, and a clotheshorse revolves clumsily on its wooden legs in front of the fire, drying an assortment of underwear. Magazines are scattered around: The Witch's Friend, Witch Chat, and Transfiguration Today.
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Newt barely notices. Impatient to leave as soon as possible, he starts peeking out the windows.
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QUEENIE: "So, who are they?"
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TINA: "He's sick -- it's a long story -- Mr. Scamander has lost something, I'm going to help him find it."
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QUEENIE (suddenly worried): "A No-Maj? Teen -- what are you up to?"
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QUEENIE (impressed): "He's a criminal?"
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Newt is watching Queenie from his spot by the window, his scientific attention now aroused.
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Jacob suddenly staggers, very sweaty and unwell. Queenie runs to him as Tina hovers, also worried.
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QUEENIE (as Jacob falls back onto a sofa): "You need to sit down, honey. Hey --" (reading his mind) "And --" (reading his mind) "-- aw, that's rough," (reading his mind) "-- he didn't get the money he wanted for his bakery. You bake, honey? I love to cook."
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TINA: "That's Mr. Scamander. He's committed a serious infraction of the National Statute of Secrecy --"
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QUEENIE: "Uh-huh, yeah. But I always have trouble with your kind. Brits. It's the accent."
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TINA: "-- uh-huh, and this is Mr. Kowalski, he's a No-Maj --"
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NEWT: "You're a Legilimens?"
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QUEENIE: "Aw, don't worry, honey. Most guys think what you was thinking, first time they see me."
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JACOB (cottoning on, appalled): "You know how to read minds?"
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QUEENIE (artless): "Hey, Mr. Scamander, you prefer pie or strudel?"
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Tina stares at Newt: Confrontational, but also disappointed and hurt.
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Tina and Queenie busy themselves in the kitchen. Ingredients come floating out of cupboards as Queenie enchants them into the components of a meal -- carrots and apples chop themselves, pastry rolls itself, and pans stir.
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QUEENIE: "Now, you need food."
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QUEENIE: "Not a very wholesome lunch."
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Tina points her wand at the cupboards. Dishes, assorted cutlery, and glasses come flying out, setting themselves on the table with a little prodding from Tina's wand. Jacob, half-fascinated, half-terrified, staggers toward the table.
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ANGLE ON NEWT, his hand on the doorknob.
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TINA: "Don't read my mind!"
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Newt looks out the window and sees a Billywig fly past -- he's nervous, impatient to get out and find his creatures.
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All look at Newt, who, embarrassed, removes his hand from the doorknob.
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NEWT: "I really don't have a preference."
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QUEENIE (to Tina): "Hot dog… again?"
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Queenie playfully gestures toward Jacob with her wand.
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QUEENIE (reading Jacob's mind): "You prefer strudel, huh, honey? Strudel it is."
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Jacob is already seated at the table, tucking his napkin into his shirt.
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Jacob nods with excited enthusiasm. Queenie grins back, delighted.
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With a flick of her wand, Queenie sends raisins, apples, and pastry flying into the air. The concoction neatly wraps itself up into a cylindrical pie, baking on the spot, complete with ornate decoration and a dusting of sugar. Jacob takes a deep breath in: Heaven.
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Tina lights candles on the table -- the meal is ready.
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FOCUS ON NEWT'S POCKET -- a small squeak, and Pickett pokes his head out, curious.
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Newt, still hovering near the door, looks somewhat charmed by the situation. Jacob glares at him subtly, willing him to sit down.
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TINA: "Well, sit down, Mr. Scamander, we're not going to poison you."
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