Buster Keaton begins film making

The Year is 1917. The United States has just signed a declaration of war against Germany, officially joining world war one. J. F. Kennedy will be born. And, a twenty-one-year-old veteran vaudevillian, Joseph Frank "Buster" Keaton, breaks his life long family act to strike out on his own. Where does he go? New York City. There, he's hired on by a producer for a stage show at somewhere around 150 dollars a week, a decent salary for the time. Then, a few days before rehearsals begin, Buster decides to go for a walk one day.
It's not clear whether he met Roscoe Arbuckle that day, but he met an old vaudeville friend of his and his family's, and Roscoe may have been with him. They talked for a while, and they got on the subject of films. His friend was working in a film studio, and he casually invited Buster to come down and tour the studio. Buster agreed.
The next day, buster showed up at the film studio. There he was greeted by one of the greatest and least recognized comedians, Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle. Roscoe showed him around the place and offered to let him film a scene with them. Buster, who was fascinated by the cameras, agreed.

You walk into the little store, a bucket in one hand, the other fingering the coin in your pocket. Your eye catches the barrel containing several brooms. You grasp one, testing the bristles. To your surprise, several come out into your hand. You drop the broom and bristles and inspect another. Losing interest, you walk away, tossing the broom back almost as an afterthought, and using your foot to lift the other, toss it back as well. 
A large barrel labeled in large letters, Molasses, catches your eye. stepping over, almost shyly, you touch a spot on the floor with your foot, a spot where the contents have dripped from the nozzle. Bringing your foot up, you use your finger to wipe the molasses off, and taste it. You get a little more off the nozzle itself. 
Walking to the counter, you place your coin in the bucket and set the bucket down, your hat next to it.

Intertitle

{Molasses, please}

The clerk nods and takes the bucket. You look around, noticing two men playing chess off to the side. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you walk over. You can see a play that would increase one man's chances of winning. Tentatively, you quickly move the piece, earning several outcries of anger from the men around you. You try to explain but they don't listen. Then you hear the clerk tap on the counter to get your attention. You turn and picking up the bucket, nod to the clerk in thanks, and turn to leave. Suddenly, you feel yourself pulled back, harshly. You turn to the clerk, questioningly.

Intertitle

{Where's your money?}

You frown, checking your pocket for the coin. You remember where you put it. 

Intertitle

{In the bucket.}

The clerk frowns, and you wave your hand in dismissal, returning to the checkers game. The men look at you warily. Then the clerk taps the counter again. you turn and take the bucket, placing your hat back on your head. The clerk raises his hat politely. You try to raise your hat, but find it will not raise. You tug harder, trying to place the bucket on the counter, but instead dropping it on the floor. The clerk tries to help, but in vain. Suddenly, he pauses, sticking a finger in the sticky substance in your hair and hat. He tastes it and then lets you taste it. Molasses. Then he tugs harder.

The hat comes off, suddenly, making you fall to the floor. You stand and shake hands with the clerk, only to find a moment later that your foot is stuck fast in the molasses on the floor. You pull with all your might, to no avail. The clerk comes around to help you, pulling in your leg, with no success. You scratch your head, only to find your hand covered in molasses. Disgusted, you wipe your hand on the clerk's shirt. 

The clerk frowns and then walks to the stove, grasping the kettle in one hand, pouring boiling water all over one of the checker's players, and on the floor. When he gets to you, he pours the steaming water on your foot. You yelp in surprise and pain, but feel your foot move slightly. With a hard shove, the clerk pushes you free of the sticky mess... And out the door into the street. You stand, dazed, and walk away.

Buster was a natural. Arbuckle enjoyed it so much, he invited Buster to film another scene with him. Buster enjoyed it so much he said yes. That night, Buster asked if he could bring one of the cameras home. He did and disassembled the whole thing, putting it back together. when he returned the next week, he asked for a job. And a job he got. 40 dollars a week was a far cry from the 150 he had been lined up for, but he didn't care. Movies fascinated him, and he just had to work with them. and work with them, he did.

Roscoe (Right) and Buster (Left) tasting the molasses.

Roscoe (right) and Buster (Left), wondering how to free Buster's foot

A publicity photo from the filming of The Butcher Boy (1917). Buster is on the far left, with Roscoe to the right of him. Al St. John is the man holding the pitchfork. He was Arbuckle's nephew and a common antagonist in their films.