Fight Club

Hey there, crime kids. Happy Friday. It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where your most violent fantasies become sins of the flesh, right here, where the hardboiled action is non-stop, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.

In Chapter 5 of B-GIRLS, retired spy Jack Broad trains the girls to prepare for their mission, and then introduces them to Smith, his right-hand, who briefs them on how they are going to take down the assassin that killed tech billionaire Randy Mandletort ...


EXT. JACK’S HOUSE - BACK YARD - DAY
Jack wears a sharp running suit.
A whistle on a cord around his neck.

Holds a clipboard.
Looks at the girls,
now wearing workout clothes.

JACK
Ladies, start your engines.

IN MONTAGE,
he watches the girls climb ropes.

RUN in a circle around the yard.
FIRE guns at targets.

Practice FIGHT MOVES.
RUN some more.

Do calisthenics.
RUN even more.

INT. JACK’S HOUSE - STUDY/COMMAND CENTER - DAY
Jack stands next to a SURFER DUDE (20’s)
sitting behind a massive
computer work station
with a dozen screens.

The girls sit nearby,
towels around their necks, exhausted.

JACK
This is Smith, my right arm.
Computer genius, internet warrior,
and hacker extraordinaire.

BLING
I thought you were retired.

JACK
My dear, just because I
never leave the house
doesn’t mean I don’t wanna know
what’s going on in the world.

LEXUS
How come you never leave the house?

BLING
Fourteen different nations
have a price on his head.

JACK
That’s why I’ve got Smith here.
He’s provided me with
a cloak of invisibility.

SMITH
I’ve jammed all heat-seeking tracking,
spy satellite monitoring --
and his web presence.
This house is,
as Stephen King would say,
a ‘dead zone.’

Meet SMITH, tan, buff,
with a tousled mane of blonde hair
Jeff Spicoli would be jealous of.
And dig the Warhol T-shirt.

JACK
Can’t leave home without it.
(to Smith)
What have you found out?

SMITH
Turns out Randy Mandletort
stole the matrix for Friendbook
from his college roomate Long Kim,
who is now the leader of a group
of hacker-terrorists known as ‘Phantom.’

BLING
Why didn’t he just hack into Friendbook?

SMITH
He is.
A trojan worm is set to infect it
around the world in a matter of hours.

LEXUS
Ohmigod.
What am I gonna do without Friendbook?

JACK
Fear not, my pneumatic one.
I’m sure Smith has a solution.

SMITH
I do.
I’ve written a code that’ll stop it --
which you’ll enter into his computer.

BLING
Wait a minute.
You mean to tell me
we’ve got to take Long Kim down,
AND save Friendbook --
all by ourselves?

JACK
Carpe diem.
Seize the day.

LEXUS
Ew.
I hate fish.

Rome Wasn't Built In A Lay

Happy Thursday, crime slicksters. It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where the girls are hot, the drinks are cold, and the hardboiled-pulp-noir action is non-stop, right here, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.

In Chapter 4 of B-GIRLS, stripper Lexus Cole, hooker Bling Stevens and porn star Neena Jammer pay a visit to Bling's client Jack Broad, a retired spy, who comes up with a plan to help them get out of the mess they're in ...


EXT. MODERN HOUSE - NIGHT
A sleek, James Lloyd Wright kinda joint
nestled on a secluded wooded lot.

The girls walk up to the front door.

LEXUS
You mean he’s a spy?

BLING
Was. He’s retired.
(smiles)
But you know men.
He still likes
to stick it in
every now and then.

She RINGS the bell.

A MALE VOICE
comes over the intercom.

MALE VOICE (O.C.)
Go away.
No solicitors.

BLING
(into the speaker)
Jack, it’s me, Bling.

JACK (O.C.)
We had an appointment today?
I must be getting senile.

BLING
No.
I’m with my friends
Lexus and Neena.
We just witnessed a murder
and need to use your phone.

JACK
So you came
to the Honeycomb Hideout.

BLING
Hey.
Sometimes you
feel like a nut.

INT. JACK’S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
A real hep-cat’s joint,
done up in retro sixties cool.

JACK BROAD (60’s), tall, trim,
with a touch of gray
sits across from the girls
on a giant sectional sofa.

Swirls brandy in a snifter.
The girls sip glasses of wine.

JACK
And he was just
mowed down like that.

BLING
Yeah.
So we got the
fuck outta there.
Now we need to use your phone
to call the police.

JACK
You might want to
hold off on that.

BLING
What do you mean?

JACK
My dear, you just witnessed
the assassination of a
billionaire tech mogul.
Your cars are still there, right?

BLING
Yeah, but --

JACK
Whoever killed Randy Mandletort
is now gonna try and kill you,
so you’re going to be watched.

BLING
Jesus fucking Christ
on a tampon.
What are we gonna do?

JACK
Simple.
Find whoever ordered the hit,
then bring them to justice.

BLING
Yeah, right.
A stripper, a porn star
and a hooker?
You gotta be kidding.
It’s a suicide mission.

JACK
Not if I train you.

BLING
You mean like some kinda
boot camp?

JACK
My dear,
Rome wasn’t built in a lay --

Beggars Can't Be Coozers

Hey there, crime kids. Happy Hump Day. It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where your most violent fantasies become sins of the flesh, right here, where the hardboiled action is non-stop, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.

In Chapter 3 of B-GIRLS, stripper Lexus Cole, hooker Bling Stevens and porn star Neena Jammer step outside to have a smoke at tech billionaire Randy Mandletort's Hollywood Hills 'private party,' and then the shit hits the fan when they witness his assassination ...


EXT. RANDY’S MANSION - DUSK
A MAN IN BLACK (20’s) on a motorcycle
comes down the driveway. Parks.

Leaves his helmet on.
Walks inside.

EXT. RANDY’S MANSION - PATIO - DUSK
The girls smoke.
Look at each other.

NEENA
He’s even more of a douche
than I thought.

LEXUS
What’s up with the suit?
Pee Wee Herman much?

BLING
I say we have one drink,
take our money,
then make like bananas and split.

EXT. RANDY’S MANSION - LIVING ROOM - DUSK
Edgar carries a briefcase
into the room.
Walks over to Randy.

EDGAR
Here you are, sir.

Man In Black CHARGES into the room.
Pulls out an UZI.

SPRAYS THEM WITH BULLETS.
Randy and Edgar’s bodies
JERK like puppets.

HIT the floor.
THWUMP. THWUMP.

OUT ON THE PATIO
The girls hear the shots.

RUSH over.
See the bodies.

BLING
Let’s get the fuck
OUTTA HERE.

She RUNS to the end of the yard.
Lexus and Neena follow.

They get to the edge.
Look down the hill.

LEXUS
Kinda steep.

BLING
Don’t be a pussy.
Take off your shoes.

They take them off.
And start off down the hill.

EXT. HOLLYWOOD HILLS - NIGHT
The girls make their way
through a wooded area.

LEXUS
OW.
I fucking stepped on something.

BLING
C’mon, woman up.
You rather get shot?

NEENA
(listens to her cell phone)
Still no reception --
(beat)
Where we going?

BLING
One of my clients lives nearby.

LEXUS
Ew. Some rich, old perv?

BLING
Honey, when you’re
running for your life,
beggars can’t be coozers --

Divine Sisters Of The Vagina Ya-Ya Hood

Happy Tuesday, crime slicksters. It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where the girls are hot, the drinks are cold, and the hardboiled-pulp-noir action is non-stop, right here, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.

In Chapter 2 of B-GIRLS, stripper Lexus Cole, hooker Bling Stevens and porn star Neena Jammer arrive at Friendbook founder Randy Mandletort's 'private party' at his mansion in the Hollywood Hills ... and discover he really is a flaming asshole ...


EXT. HOLLYWOOD HILLS MANSION - DUSK
A big, sprawling joint high up in the hills.
Amazing view of the smog.

A giant circular driveway.
Deluxe and delightful.

A canary-yellow AUDI CONVERTIBLE
cruises down the driveway,
SCREECHES to a halt in front of the house.

Lexus gets out,
holding her smart phone to her ear.

Looks smoking hot
in a dress that’s barely there.

LEXUS
BEAT ya.

Suddenly a candy-apple red
AUDI CONVERTIBLE ROARS down the driveway.

CRUNCHES to a stop right next to Lexus.’
Leena hops out, also dressed to kill.
Marches over.

NEENA
Check out Danica Patrick.
Nascar a go-go.

A bright blue AUDI CONVERTIBLE
FLIES across the gravel, FISHTAILS.

Makes a perfect stop next to Neena’s car.
Bling gets out, regal in black.
Flashes a big grin.

BLING
Divine sisters of the vagina ya ya hood.
Let's PARTY.

INT. HOLLYWOOD HILLS MANSION - FOYER - DUSK
Bigger than most apartments.
Unbelievably lux.

The girls look around in wonder.
A BRITISH BUTLER (60’s) approaches them.

BUTLER
Ladies.
Mr. Mandletort is expecting you.
Please follow me.

INT. MANSION - LIVING ROOM - DUSK
Once again, very large, very lux.
Expensive furniture and art.

A full wet bar against one wall.
Giant fireplace.

At the bar is RANDY MANDLETORT (27),
small, weaselly.

Makes Mark Zuckerburg look good-looking.
Wears an outrageous gold lame suit and shades.

The girls walk in.
Stop and stare.

MARK
Ladies.
So glad you could join me.
Come on in, the drinks are wet.
(a dirty chuckle)
Sure hope you are.

LEXUS
(low, to the girls)
Where’s everybody else?
I thought this was a party.

BLING
(under her breath)
Haven’t you seen Sunset Boulevard?

They plaster on fake smiles.
Walk over.

LEXUS
Randy.
Thanks for inviting us.

NEENA
Love your place.

BLING
Yeah. It’s -- big.

RANDY
That’s not all that’s big.
(winks)
If you know what I mean.
Nudge-nudge, wink-wink.

Pause.

BLING
So --

RANDY
Ah, yes. The money. Silly me.
(presses the intercom)
Edgar, could you please
bring me the ladies’ gifts?

EDGAR (O.C.)
(electronic)
Right away, sir.

RANDY
He’ll just be a sec.
(smiles)
So, you gals ever
played anal ring toss?

NEENA
You know what?
I’d kill for a smoke.
Mind if I step out
on the terrace for a sec?

LEXUS
I’ll join you.

BLING
Me, too.

RANDY
Take your time.
I’ll be right here.
(meaningfully)
Waiting --

Pussy Patrol

Hey there, crime kids. Happy Monday. It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where your most violent fantasies become sins of the flesh, right here, where the hardboiled action is non-stop, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.

I've been doing this blog for almost five years now. Hard to believe. Over the last year or so you might have noticed that I've been posting some of my older work instead of what I've been writing recently. The reason for this is the theme of the blog is hardboiled/pulp/noir/crime stories, and sometimes I write something that doesn't fit into one of those categories, so I don't post it -- like FILLMORE, a biopic about the blues musician Fillmore Slim that goes into production later this year -- or THE PROPHESY OF RECKCONING, a LORD OF THE RINGS/GAME OF THRONES kinda fantasy epic. Also, the thinking was that some of you are new to the blog, so why not post something again from a couple of years ago?

Well, today I'm please to unveil a brand-new story. I wrote the short film B-GIRLS with a view to raising the money to direct it myself, then expand it into a feature. The template for this was the short film D.E.B.S., which won a bunch of awards, then became a fairly successful cult hit after a feature version was shot. So, without further adieu, get ready for the ride of your life ...

In Chapter 1 of B-GIRLS, we meet stripper Lexus Cole, hooker Bling Stevens and porn star Neena Jammer, who have all been invited to a 'private party' at Friendbook found Randy Mandeltort's joint. The problem is, he's a flaming asshole ... but when the girls find out they're being paid 100k to attend, they throw caution to the wind and get their butts in gear ...


EXT. SPEARMINT RHINO STRIP CLUB - DAY
A giant complex
on the outskirts of LA.

A few cars dot the parking lot
on a weekday.

A DRUNK PATRON
pukes on the cement.

INT. SPEARMINT RHINO STRIP CLUB - DRESSING ROOM - DAY
A gaggle of STRIPPERS sit at their mirrors,
fixing their hair, their faces, their outfits.

LEXUS COLE (20), a blonde
with a killer rack does her lips.

Blots them with a tissue.
Checks herself out in the mirror.

Narrows her eyes.

LEXUS
(to the girl next to her)
Does this lipstick
makes me look fat?

Her smartphone VIBRATES.
She grabs it eagerly.
Sees a text.

LEXUS
(reads it out loud)
Private party -- in the hills --
(reads)
I get paid a hundred-thou?
I’m SO there.
(thinks)
Randy Mandletort?
The guy that started FRIENDBOOK?

EXT. MARINA DOCK - PRIVATE YACHT - DAY
A GIANT YACHT gleams in the sunlight
on a bright, blue day.

EXT. PRIVATE YACHT - REAR DECK - DAY
SENATOR COTTON (50’s) tall, grey-haired,
distinguished-looking sits in the jacuzzi
sipping a glass of champagne.

SENATOR COTTON
Must you go so soon?

BLING STEVENS (20’s),
a tall, brunette high-class call girl
with a heart of black
pulls on her boots, eyes him.

BLING
‘So soon?’
You’ve enjoyed ‘the girlfriend experience’
for three days.
Gal’s gotta get out.
Mingle. Air out her pussy.

SENATOR COTTON
A private party, you say?
Maybe I could tag along.

BLING
Randy Mandletort’s the host.
Still wanna go?

SENATOR COTTON
That asshole? Fuck that.
Why are you going?

BLING
I’m getting paid a hundred-k.
And for that, I’ll
poke his ‘like’ button.

INT. PORN SOUNDSTAGE - DAY
A surprising large soundstage
somewhere deep in the Valley.

A MAN (30’s) and a WOMAN (20’s)
are making love on a culinary island
on a surprising good kitchen set.

FEMALE PORN STAR
C’mon, baby -- stuff my turkey,
saute my giblets,
butter my BUNS --
give it to me on a SKEWER.

Meet porn goddess NEENA JAMMER (25),
petite, natural-breasted, natural redhead.
Stunning. Sexy. Natural.

MALE PORN STAR
Prepare to feast on THE IRON CHEF.

Neena’s cell phone RINGS.
She grabs it. Looks. Smiles.

Male Porn Star stops pumping.
Makes a face.

NEENA
(into the phone)
Roberto. What’s up?

DIRECTOR (O.C.)
Cut, cut, goddammit to FUCK, Neena.
We’re in the middle of a SCENE.

NEENA
It’s my agent. Hold on.
(listens, then)
A hundred-grand?
Just to go to a PARTY?
(listens)
Oh. HIM? I dunno --
(listen)
Lexus and Bling are going?
Why didn’t you say so?
Tell ‘em I’m coming.
(laughs)
Pun intended --

Flaming Creatures

Hey there, crime kids. Happy Friday. It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where your most violent fantasies become sins of the flesh, right here, where the hardboiled action is non-stop, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.

In the final chapter of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, homicide dick Carrie Love's standoff with teenage serial killer Sparkle Plenty ends in a bloodbath of epic proportions ... but when her former flame, porn star Laura Lang shows up on the scene, she literally gets down on her knees and begs for forgiveness ...


INT. BARGAIN CLOWN MART - NIGHT
Sparkle stops. Looks. Confused.
Something shuts down.

SPARKLE
No, no. Turn it back on.
Turn it back on.
(very quiet)
Mommy, please -- let me do it again, please.
I’m sorry I dropped it.
I know I can do better.
(listens to something)
I don’t get another chance?

She gently places a gun at her throat.
The other at her temple.
Closes her eyes.

CARRIE (O.S.)
No! Don’t do it --

SPARKLE
(a whisper)
I’m sorry.
(beat)
I’ll take my ball and phone home now.
(a whisper)
Bye, bye, Daddy.
Take care of Mommy --

INT. BARGAIN CLOWN MART - ARIAL POV - CONTINUOUS

SPARKLE
Squeezes the trigger.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
Her head EXPLODES in a SPRAY of RED MIST.

EXT. BARGAIN CLOWN MART - NIGHT
Emotionally spent, splattered,
Carrie makes her way through
the crowd of NEWS CREWS, COPS, GAWKING BYSTANDERS.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Another thing about Los Angeles --
this sprawling mass of self-satisfaction
is all about air time.
The ‘big story.’ Ratings.

She passes a REPORTER,
a blonde, grinning jock type.

CARRIE (V.O.) (CONT'D)
Fucking vultures --

JOCK REPORTER
Yes! I believe that’s her!
(approaches Carrie)
Detective! Miss Love!
Roger Ditz, KTLA Evening News!
How do you feel?

Carrie PUSHES him away.
Keeps walking.

CARRIE
That’s on a 'need to know' basis, Roger.

Veronica approaches.

VERONICA
Don’t bother begging for my favors, Carrie.

CARRIE
We all use each other, babe.

Lipshitz appears.

LIPSHITZ
Carrie, let me give you a lift home.
You can file your report tomorrow.
You’ve been through --

CARRIE
I’ve been through a bloody blender, Lare.
Please, leave me alone -- no offense --
but I’ve got find someone.

LIPSHITZ
I’ll call you tomorrow morning.

CARRIE
I’ll call you.
I’m sleeping in.


She reaches the gauntlet of GAWKING ONLOOKERS.
Pushing, wildly grinning, jockeying for position.

RABID ONLOOKER
Yo, that’s her!

CRAZED ONLOOKER
Carrie, baby! Legs!

Carrie ignores them, pushes through the crowd.

CARRIE (V.O.)
It’s all about the glitz,
the glamour -- the box office.
Which explains the rage behind
the big, bright smiles.
Why someone jams on the horn
if you hesitate the tiniest bit at a stoplight.
Why people will spend five bucks for a coffee
and a buck-fifty for a cookie.
A fuckin’ cookie.
(beat)
And which explains all the shitty movies
they keep cranking out.

LAURA
Stands at the corner. Holy shit.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Except this one, of course.

Carrie walks over to this flaming creature
in pink latex.

CARRIE (V.O.)
And there she was, a vision in rubber.
It was as if the heavens opened up
and delivered me evil.
Brought back to me the missing piece
I thought was gone forever.
The thing that made me whole.

Carrie says something to Laura.
Laura tenses.
Looks like she’s going to bolt.

Carrie pulls out a pack of smokes.
Shakes out two.

Lights them.
Offers one to Laura --

She snatches it.
Takes a long, deep drag.
Blows smoke in Carrie’s face.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Cause when your self-esteem
is running on empty --
you need another warm body
to fill your tank.

Carrie begs, pleads.
Like her life depended on it.

But then, at this point -- maybe it does.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Nobody’s perfect.
I’m not -- and God knows,
neither was she.

Laura’s eyes burn into her.
Considering.

Carrie gets down on one knee --
Giving Laura the view up her skirt.

CARRIE (V.O.)
But we had something
most people never have.
Something they only dream about.
(beat)
And should probably
stay the hell away from.

Laura pulls a leash out of her purse.
SNAPS it on Carrie’s leather choker.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Some people say such passion
is worth the price.
For me, it was a no-brainer.
(beat)
Call me Lassie.

Laura steps back.
Gives the chain a YANK.

Carrie stands. Goes to her.
And they kiss --

CARRIE (V.O.)
That’s it.
Time for me to ankle this joint.
And it’s about time for you
to get back to your happy little lives.
(beat)
Me? I’ll be right here,
playing craps with my heart --
and spinning the roulette wheel of love.

Till Death Do Us Part

Happy Thursday, crime slicksters. It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where the girls are hot, the drinks are cold, and the hardboiled-pulp-noir action is non-stop, right here, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.

In Chapter 32 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, homicide detective Carrie Love and teenage serial killer Sparkle Plenty are in the middle of a stand-off at the Bargain Clown Mart, where Sparkle makes her final demand: she wants to talk to the media, who happily obliges and puts her on the air ...


EXT. BARGAIN CLOWN MART - PARKING LOT - NIGHT
A gridlock of COPS, several NEWS CREWS --
And a crowd of GAWKING SPECTATORS.

Larry PUSHES toward Carrie -- GRABS her.

LIPSHITZ
Are you okay?
What’s going on?
How many people are dead?
What’s she like?
Does she have any demands?
Are you okay? Can I get you --

CARRIE
Larry! Slow down. Slow down. Slow down.
(beat)
I’m okay. But there’s dozens
of dead smart shoppers in there --
and one barely breathing bimbo.
And I don’t give a fuck what she’s like --
this pageant princess from hell
is right now in the middle of
a midnight-movie breakdown --
and she’s demanding that we
get the fucking media in there immediately --
so unless you have a better idea --
then I suggest we
grab some prime time meat
and do a little dance
with little Missy devil dog.

LIPSHITZ
(gestures around him)
Go get ‘em tiger. Pick a channel.

She looks around at the REPORTERS,
lights, cameras, CREWS.

A MULTI-ETHNIC CREW, 'TELEVISO.'

HISPANIC REPORTER
Mira, mira! Televiso! Televiso!

LIVE AT FIVE -- with a GLOSSY NEWS GUY,
grim -- but excited.

GLOSSY NEWS GUY
Live at Five, Miss Love! Live at Five!

CNN. The big boys.
With a STUNNING NEWS BABE.

STUNNING NEWS BABE
Carrie. Been a long time.

CARRIE
gulps.

CARRIE
Veronica. You got your dream job.
(beat)
You look great.

VERONICA
You never called.

CARRIE
Please, I’ll grovel at your feet later.
Lick your shoes.
Anything you want, I swear.
But right now we gotta meet the press.

INT. BARGAIN CLOWN MART - MOMENTS LATER
Veronica and the CREW creep up to Sparkle on tip-toes.

SPARKLE
Jesus Christ, this is the 'Action News?'
Lighten up, this is the big scoop,
the exclusive -- it’s the fucking sweeps!
Play it right, and your career goes into overdrive.
Fuckin’ quote’s gonna go through the roof.

VERONICA
(shoves mike toward Sparkle)
Veronica Sawyer, Miss Plenty, CNN.
I must say this the most
unusual interview I’ve ever done.
You’ll have to pardon me
if I’m a little bit scared shitless.

SPARKLE
(crazy smile)
Pleased to meet ya, Ronnie.
And please, call me Sparkle.
It’s truly an honor.
Love that action, love that news.

VERONICA
Do you realize we’re making
broadcast history, Miss -- Sparkle?
Right now at this very moment,
over a hundred million people
around the world are watching us.

SPARKLE
Then take me to your global village,
anchor babe. Lets get that demographic.
(to the cameraman)
Bring it in closer, I want to hear them gasp --
wanna hear them say, but gosh, she’s so pretty.

CARRIE
shoves her gun in Veronica’s face.
GRABS her mike.

CARRIE
Before you get your precious footage --
I need to borrow your transmission.

VERONICA
Bitch.
(into the camera)
As you can see, Detective Love
has just commandeered my crew.

SPARKLE
Hey, you can’t shoot her!
I’m gonna shoot her!

INT. ACTION NEWSROOM - AT THAT MOMENT
The ANCHORS and CREW watch on monitors
with uncontained glee.

LINA
Get her! Kick her fucking ass!

BROCK
Shoot the bitch! Shoot the bitch!

INT. BARGAIN CLOWN MART - CONTINUOUS
Carrie gets closer, looks into the camera.

CARRIE
Laura -- I hope you’re watching this.
I just wanna say I’m sorry.
I really fucked up.
What you do for a living is your choice,
it’s none of my business,
and I had no right to judge you.
I just got scared --
that machine almost killed you.
Almost fried what I pray to.
(beat)
At least what you do is honest.
I mean, I fuck people too,
but they don’t have an orgasm.
They just get a slimy sandwich
and a scary new roommate.
Please forgive me.
Come back, baby.
My sheets are dry.

KEKO (O.S.)
Well, what have we got here?
One of the dolls get out of her box?

Sparkle WHIPS an Uzi toward the voice,
turns to look.

SPARKLE
Ohmigod, it’s Mr. decaf frappaccino.

So glad you could join the party.
Ready for a little ‘death do us part’ action?

BERNIE
holds twin 357 Magnums.
They glisten in the light.

KEKO
In your dreams, little girlie.
There’s two of us now,
so you better put away those toys
before Mommy catches you.

ANGLE ON --
Carrie’s gun at the camera.
Bernie’s pair on Sparkle.

Sparkle’s Uzis on Madrid and Bernie.
Sparkle FLIPS a gun from Bernie to the CAMERAMAN.

SPARKLE
(to Carrie)
Squeeze play -- your choice, hon.
Billy Betacam, or baby Botox.

Pause.

CARRIE
(to the cameraman)
Shut off the camera.
It’ll make her stop.

CAMERAMAN
What? No way.

CARRIE
Shut off the camera,
it’ll make her stop.
She won’t shoot,
it’s gotta be on the air.

CAMERAMAN
No way.
She’s got a fuckin’ gun at my head.

SPARKLE
That’s right, detective --
I’ve got him in my hair-trigger.
And It’s gettin’ itchy.

CARRIE
(to the cameraman)
And I’ve got her number.
She won’t kill anyone else
unless it’s being broadcast --

BANG! BANG! BANG!
A surprised look on Madrid’s face.

Three red stains slowly expand
on her gauzy belly-top.

THE CAMERAMAN
turns to the wounded beauty,
focuses. Excited. Scared.

CARRIE
PUNCHES him.

GRABS the camera.
Shuts it off.

INT. NEWSROOM - CONTINUOUS
The monitors go black.

BROCK
Goddammit.

LINA
Fuck me.