Friday, December 19, 2014

Leave The Driving To Us


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 FILLMORE, after Clarence gets run off the road by the cops, the car explodes, and he's severely injured. Then is mother Idola gets a stern lecture at work where she works as a maid that she'll get fired if her son continues to get in trouble ...


INT. TILLY’S CAR - NIGHT
Joe looks at Clarence,
wild-eyed, freaked out.

JOE
C’mon, LET’S GO.

Joe YANKS OPEN the door.
Runs away.

Clarence tries to move.
But he CAN’T.

CLARENCE
Joe, COME BACK.
My legs are stuck.

GRIZZLED VET AND ROOKIE COP
Stand on the shoulder
looking down at Clarence.

GRIZZLED VET
That’s that negro that was
messin’ with Tilly Sackler.

ROOKIE COP
That’ll teach ‘em.
(sniffs)
Smells like pork.

CLARENCE
Desperately tries to pull
his legs free, but he can’t.
They’re twisted under
the ruined steering wheel.

The flames grow higher,
BURNING his legs.

CLARENCE
JOE, HELP ME. I’m STUCK --

THE COPS
Watch Clarence burn.

ROOKIE COP
Burn, you black sonofabitch.

GRIZZLED VET
C’mon, let’s get the fuck outta here.
We just saved our friends the trouble
of paying him a visit.

They jump in the car and
TEAR OFF in a crunch of gravel.

CLARENCE
SCREAMS OUT in pain.

CLARENCE
JOOOE --

JOE
Hears him.
Comes out from the bushes.

Sees the car on fire.
And that the cops are gone.
He RACES OVER.

JOE
CLARENCE.
He YANKS Clarence out of the car.
DRAGS him to the embankment --
just as the car EXPLODES,
THROWING THEM onto the grass.

INT. FIRST NATIONAL BANK - CORRIDOR - LATE AFTERNOON
Idola is down on her knees
scrubbing the marble floor with a brush
and a bucket of soapy water.

The BANK MANAGER’S (50’s) a typical stuffy,
pompous white guy approaches her.

POMPOUS BANK MANAGER
Your son’s been getting
in a lot of trouble, Idola.
If it keeps up,
we’ll have to let you go.

IDOLA
I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to --

POMPOUS BANK MANAGER
It doesn’t look good to
our customers, Idola. People talk.
Make sure that boy stays in line,
or else. Understand?

IDOLA
Yes, sir.

He walks away.

IDOLA
Good night, Mr. Wells.

INT. CLARENCE’S HOUSE - BOYS’ BEDROOM - NIGHT
Clarence lies asleep in bed,
his legs all bandaged.
His brothers are also fast asleep.

Idola sits next to his bed.
Strokes his brow.
Shakes her head sadly.

IDOLA
Lord help me do the right thing.
Please protect this child.
In Jesus’ name I pray.

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Home On The Range


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 FILLMORE, Clarence gets busy with hooker Tilly Sackler, who invites him to stay with her. A little later, while going for a joyride with a friend, the cops try and pull him over, with disastrous results ...


INT. TILLY’S LIVING ROOM - DAY
Clarence and Tilly sit on the couch,
sipping their lemonade.

CLARENCE
This sure is good lemonade, Miss Sackler.

TILLY
Please. Call me Tilly.
(puts her hand on his knee)
You sure are growing up to be
a handsome young man, Clarence.

CLARENCE
(looks at her hand)
Thank you -- Tilly.

TILLY
I was wondering if you would --
help me with something.

CLARENCE
What’s that?

TILLY
Well, I was reading in the newspaper
that you should turn over the mattress
on your bed every year or so --

INT. TILLY’S BEDROOM - DAY
Frilly. Girlie. VERY nice.
A giant, king-sized bed.

Tilly and Clarence are under the covers,
FUCKING their brains out.

TILLY
FUCK ME, Clarence -- FUCK me.

CLARENCE
Hi, ho SILVER --

TILLY
Ride ‘em fucking COWBOY.

And she SCREAMS with ecstasy.

INT. TILLY’S BEDROOM - DAY - LATER
Clarence and Tilly lie in bed,
smoking cigarettes.

Clarence puts his out.
Starts to get out of bed.
Feeling awkward.

CLARENCE
That was really nice, Tilly --
but I should get back to work.

TILLY
Stay here with me awhile.
I’ll call the pharmacy.
Tell them you’re helping me
with some chores.

CLARENCE
I don’t know, Miss -- Tilly.

TILLY
You wouldn’t want me to call your boss
and tell him you RAPED me, would you?

CLARENCE
No, Ma’am. PLEASE don’t do that.

TILLY
Good. Then it’s settled.
You’re gonna stay here awhile.

CLARENCE
You mean -- stay in the house with you?

TILLY
Sure, why not? I’m all alone --
(off his look)
You could have your own room --
(off his look)
I’d even let you drive my car.

CLARENCE
Are you SERIOUS?

TILLY
Serious as a heart attack.

Clarence GRABS her.
Starts to get on top of her.

TILLY
(giggles)
Why, Clarence -- what are you DOING?

CLARENCE
Sayin’ thank you --

EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - NIGHT
A big, beautiful, brand-new BUICK SEDAN drives by.

INT. BUICK SEDAN - NIGHT
Clarence sits behind the wheel, driving.
His friend JOE (15) sits next to him
in the passenger seat.
He feels the leather.

JOE
And she lets you DRIVE it?

CLARENCE
I told you.
Got the run of the house. And HER.
First time I get pussy,
and it’s FULL-TIME, all the time.

JOE
You crazy.
What you doin’ messin’ around
with a white woman?

CLARENCE
That’s my choice.
I makes my own.
Nobody makes it for me.

JOE
So where is she now? She just lets you
drive around at night without her?

CLARENCE
She’s at the picture show
with her girlfriends.
(off his look)
I didn’t wanna see no Bette Davis movie.
Thought we could drive around and have some fun.

JOE
(nods)
Damn.
(feels the seat again.)
This is real leather --

A police siren WHOOP-WHOOPS behind them.

CLARENCE
(looks in the rear view)
Shit, it’s the cops.

JOE
But we didn’t do nothing.
We’re not speeding.

A POLICE CRUISER
Is right behind them.
Cherry lights FLASHING.
Siren WAILING.

CLARENCE
Steps on the gas.
The car TEARS ASS on the gravel road.

JOE
What are you DOING?
We ain’t done nothing WRONG.
It’s your FRIEND’S car --

CLARENCE
They’re not gonna BELIEVE me.
(beat)
Hold on --

He turns the headlights OFF.

AERIAL POV
The big sedan drives in the dark,
the cop car in hot pursuit.
It makes a turn, then ACCELERATES.

IN THE CAR
Clarence drives, turning the wheel
as he negotiates the turns.
Joe turns around,
looks out the rear window.

JOE
They’re still behind us --

THE CAR
Goes around the turn, but it’s going TOO FAST,
and it SWERVES, SKIDS, wheels SQUEALING and --

CLARENCE (O.C.)
SHIT --

EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - NIGHT
The car PLOWS into the foliage at the
side of the road and CRASHES into a tree.
BANG. It BURSTS into flames.

THE POLICE CAR
Pulls up to the side of the road
above them on the shoulder.

IN THE CAR
A ROOKIE COP (20’s) sits behind the wheel.
Looks at his PARTNER (50’s) sitting beside him,
a grizzled vet.

ROOKIE COP
Should I call the fire department?

GRIZZLED VET
Nah.
(smiles)
Let’s go check out the barbecue --


Instagram

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Fresh-Squeezed


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 FILLMORE, at the behest of his father to keep him out of trouble, Clarence gets a job working on a fruit and vegetable cart and discovers he has a natural gift for sales, but finds it boring, so when he gets a job at a pharmacy making deliveries to a whore house, he finds that the 'world's oldest profession' is more to his liking ...


EXT. SMALL TOWN - NOON - DAY
An old HORSE-DRAWN WAGON drives down the street.

It’s driven by MR. FAUST (50’s)
a lanky, smiling German fellow.

The wagon is loaded with vegetables and fruit --
and Clarence.

CLARENCE
(sing-song)
Vegetable Man, it’s the Vegetable Man.
Get your fresh fruit and vegetables,
as fast as you can --

Someone’s front door OPENS.
The wagon stops.

CLARENCE
Apples, oranges, juicy ripe pears --
apples, oranges, juicy ripe pears --

A SMILING WOMAN (30’s) comes up to the wagon.

SMILING WOMAN
Good morning, Mr. Faust.

He smiles. Nods. Tips his hat.

CLARENCE
Good morning, Mrs. Baker. Step right up.
What can we get for you today?

MRS. BAKER
My, but don’t you look handsome today, Clarence.
I’ll take five apples, please.

CLARENCE
(puts them in a bag, hands them to her)
An apple a day makes the beautiful women
keep comin’ my way --

MR. FAUST
I swear, Clarence.
I never sold so much so quickly.
We’re gonna be great team.

He hands Clarence a dollar bill. Clarence takes it.
Tries hard not to show his disappointment.

CLARENCE
I’m sorry, Mr. Faust, but this ain’t for me.
It’s just a stop along the way.
I’m gonna be a blues singer.

MR. FAUST
You sing the blues?
Then sing us a SONG, Clarence.

Clarence nods excitedly.
Starts CLAPPING his hands.

CLARENCE
(sings)
Momma's got a chicken, called it a duck,
put it on the table with his feet sticking up --

Another WOMAN (19), Miss Emily,
a fine young thing, walks up to the wagon.

We hear a CAR ENGINE. Both women look.
It’s Blues Guitarist, slowly cruising by
in his candy-apple red Cadillac convertible.

BLUES GUITARIST
Miss Emily. Feel like goin’ for a ride?

Miss Emily smiles. DASHES over.
Jumps in. They drive off.

PUSH IN ON Clarence’s face. Watching them go.

EXT. WHORE HOUSE - DAY
A ramshackle farm house on the outskirts of town
with a smattering of small bungalows next to it.

Clarence walks up to one of them
carrying a brown paper bag.

KNOCKS on the door.
A GORGEOUS HOOKER (18) opens it. Sees Clarence.

GORGEOUS HOOKER
Wow, that was fast.

CLARENCE
No problem, Daisy. We aim to please.
(hands her the bag)
Milk, bread, and a dozen eggs.

DAISY
(takes it)
Thank you.
(beat)
Uh -- what about my change?

CLARENCE
There ain’t none.

She laughs. Shakes her head.

CLARENCE
What’s so funny?

DAISY
No change? You’re acting just like a pimp.
(beat)
I swear --

INT. PHARMACY - DAY
An old-time drug store. The PHARMACIST (60’s),
a tall, incredibly skinny white man
with an egg-shaped head stands behind the counter.
Hands Clarence a white paper bag.

PHARMACIST
Please take this to Tilly Sackler
on Peachtree Lane, Clarence.
And don’t dilly-dally.
needs this prescription right away. Okay?

CLARENCE
Don’t you worry, Mr. Magid.
I’ll be there faster than a jackrabbit.

EXT. TILLY SACKLER’S HOUSE - DAY
A nice, if plain, white clapboard house
in the good part of town.

Clarence stands on the stoop.
RINGS the doorbell.

The door OPENS. Out comes TILLY SACKLER (30’s)
a busty brunette right out of the movies.

CLARENCE
Mornin,’ Miss Sackler.
I’ve got your order from the pharmacy --

TILLY
(takes the bag)
Thanks, Clarence.
(meaningfully)
It’s awfully hot out today, isn’t it?

CLARENCE
Yes, ma’am. Sure is.

TILLY
Would you like to come in
and have a glass of lemonade?
I made it myself.
(whispers)
Fresh-squeezed.

CLARENCE
Yes, ma’am --

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Crime And Punishment


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 FILLMORE, the Sims family sits down to breakfast, but when Clarence arrives late, his father confronts him about sneaking out of the house the night before to go see a blues band, and decides to teach the boy a lesson ...



EXT. CLARENCE’S FAMILY’S HOUSE - DAY
A big, extended family picnic in the back yard
on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon.

Fathers on one side shooting the shit,
on the other, gossiping. Children playing.

Tons of food on picnic tables
being enjoyed by all.

Clarence sits and listens to his father,
JOHN (30’s) a seven-foot-tall
giant of a man talking with his friends.

JOHN
I taught him how to be a mason --
now he’s a supervisor, and
the white bastard just laid me off.

ZEKE (30’s) a friend, chimes in.

ZEKE
That happens all the time with colored folks.
We try and help someone out,
then they fuck us.

JOHN
I don’t know how I’m gonna pay my bills.

ZEKE
I might have something for you
in a couple-a weeks.
Gotta big job comin’ up.
(looks at Clarence)
Hey, Clarence.
Sing us one of them songs.
This is supposed to be a party.

He hands Clarence a dollar.
Clarence GRABS it,
starts singing his heart out.

CLARENCE
Well, lawdy Miss Clawdy --

INT. SCHOOL - DAY
At the end of a long corridor,
we see a TEACHER (40’s) a stout white woman
giving Idola the third degree.

It’s clear she’s really upset.
Idola nods, tries to calm her down.

EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - DAY
Idola and Clarence walk home.

IDOLA
And I had to leave work AGAIN
to come and get you.
When are you gonna LEARN?

CLARENCE
The teacher said colored people
ain’t never gonna be worth anything.
I had to say somethin.’
She’s fulla shit.

She GRABS him by the arm.

IDOLA
Who do you think you are, cussin’ like that?
That’s why you’re always gettin’ in trouble.

They pass a CHAIN GANG
on the other side of the road.

Idola sees them.
Points a finger.

IDOLA
See that?
That’s what happens to colored folks
that sass white people.

INT. CLARENCE’S HOUSE - DAY
A fairly big place with rustic furniture.
Immaculately clean.

John sits at the head of the table.
Mama’s at the other end.

His three BROTHERS and three SISTERS
sit around the table,
waiting to start breakfast.

JOHN
(to Mother)
Then we’ll start without him.

He looks at the family.
Clasps his hands.

Closes his eyes.
Bows his head.
They do the same.

JOHN
Dear Father, thank you for
what we are to about receive --

Clarence RUNS into the room.
Goes to his chair. Sits down.
John gives him the evil eye.

JOHN
In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.

They start passing the food around.
John looks at Clarence.

JOHN
Your momma tells me you snuck out again
last night and went to that JUKE JOINT.

CLARENCE
I’m tryin’ to learn how to be a singer.

JOHN
You can’t make no living being no damn SINGER.
If you keep on the path you’re on,
you’re gonna become a CRIMINAL.

CLARENCE
Then that’s the path I’m gonna take,
and if that makes me a criminal,
then I’m gonna be the BEST.
I ain’t gonna be sayin’ yes, sir,
no, sir the rest of my life.

JOHN
Go get me my BELT.

Clarence JUMPS out of his chair.
RUNS out of the room.
John BANGS the table with his fist.

JOHN
(to the children)
GET HIM. If you DON’T CATCH HIM
it’ll be YOUR HIDES. GO, GO, GO --

The kids LEAP out of their chairs.
CHASE after him.

EXT. CLARENCE’S HOUSE - FRONT YARD - DAY
Clarence RUNS out the front door.
TEARS ASS across the yard toward the street.

His brothers and sisters CHASE AFTER HIM.
Slim RUNS into the woods across the street.

EXT. WOODED AREA - DAY
Clarence sits way up high in a tree.
Watches his brothers and sisters
run through the woods below trying to find him.

PUSH IN ON Clarence’s face. Smiling.

INT. CLARENCE’S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Dark. Everyone’s in bed. A side window OPENS.

Clarence climbs in.
Quietly closes it.
Tip-toes toward his room.

INT. CLARENCE’S ROOM - NIGHT
Clarence’s three BROTHERS
are fast asleep in their beds.

Cowboy posters dot the walls.
Lash LaRue. Tom Mix. Gene Autry.

He carefully closes the door.
Tip-toes toward his bed.
The door suddenly OPENS.

John stands in the doorway,
a scary apparition in the shadows.
Holding a leather barber’s strap.

JOHN
You think you’re slick.
I’m gonna teach you a lesson --

CLARENCE
Poppa, PLEASE --

JOHN
Come over here and take your whooping.
(growls)
And tomorrow you’re gonna get a JOB.
I don’t care if it’s pickin’ cotton.
Keep you outta TROUBLE --

Monday, December 15, 2014

Red, White And Black


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.

It's been awhile since I posted a personal message before I started the next story on the blog. No excuses. I've just been so darn busy as of late, doing back to back writing gigs for hire.

Some of you have probably wondered why I keep posting the same dozen scripts over the last few years and don't post some of my newer work. Well, there's a reason for that. Most of the stuff I've been working on has been for hire, and I've had to sign a non-disclosure agreement, so I can't post them -- and then there's another, more pertinent reason. They don't fit the brand of this blog; namely, hardboiled crime/pulp stories. Also, this blog remains a way for me to promote my work, and the odd producer or director that stumbles upon this isn't familiar with my work like you are. Also, my latest project I'm keeping under wraps because it's a super-cool series that's a real game-changer. All I want to say now is that it's about the first standalone female anti-hero, and it's the best thing I've ever written.

Today, all that's gonna change. Today I'm gonna start posting a story that's never been on the blog before, and I must confess I'm more than a little excited. Some of you heard of FILLMORE, the ill-fated biopic I was hired to write a couple of years ago. It was gonna star Snoop Dogg and be directed by Hawthorne James (SPEED, THE DOORS, THE FIVE HEARTBEATS). The story was splashed all of the trades, I was gonna make big money writing it. It was my 'big break.' Well, I had a great time writing it, then rewriting it with Hawthorne, but there was one problem. The producers never came up with to money to pay me after my first payment. Lesson one in screenwriting jobs: NEVER take a job unless they have the money in the bank to pay you. It seemed like a no-brainer: Snoop had signed a letter of intent (but the arrogant newbie producers lowballed his offer, and turned him off), and they would pay me the rest of my fee (in the low six figures) after they raised the money.

But they didn't. They couldn't.

And guess who went bankrupt and lost her home?

But that's a story for a different time. (See the above-mentioned new series.)

Ladies and gentlemen, today I present FILLMORE, the story of a poor young man from Louisiana, who moved to San Francisco in the 70's and became a famed blues musician, and, without trying, the biggest pimp ever known.

In Chapter 1 of FILLMORE, we meet young Clarence Sims, who's snuck out of his home in the Louisiana bayou to sneak a peak at a roadhouse blues band ... until his mother Idola tracks him down and drags him back home ...


FADE IN:

ON A BLACK SCREEN
We hear a BABY CRYING.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. DELIVERY ROOM - DAY
IDOLA (30’s) lies in bed.
Holds NEWBORN BABY CLARENCE in her arms.

A pair of NURSES in scrubs (20’s)
stand nearby.

DOCTOR (40’s) nods,
walks out of the room.

PRETTY NURSE
That’s the prettiest baby I’ve ever seen.

SHY NURSE
He’s so beautiful.

IDOLA
Gonna break all the girls’ hearts.

PRETTY NURSE
He’s making a lot of noise.

IDOLA
That’s a colored boy
crying for his freedom.
(off her look)
He’s learning to sing the blues.

EXT. CITY STREET - DAY
From behind, we see a tall,
well-dressed MAN (30’s)
in a sharp suit and matching hat
with expensive shoes and
a guitar strapped across his back
walking down the street.

He passes various PEOPLE
that greet him.

IN MONTAGE:
A series of visual images.
WORKERS picking cotton with BLOODY HANDS.

CHOPPING sugar cane.
A BURNING CROSS.

A sign on a drinking fountain:
WHITES ONLY.

A young BOY shining shoes.
CHILDREN playing in the street.

An OLD WOMAN on her hands and knees,
scrubbing the floor late at night.

A man gets HANDCUFFED, dragged away.
A FOX chases a RABBIT.

THE WELL-DRESSED MAN
Gets to a street corner. Stops. Turns.
Looks in the camera.

We see it’s FILLMORE SLIM.
Blues singer. Man-about-town.

He brings the guitar around.
Starts playing, singing a song.

We PUSH IN ON his face,
and then --

DISSOLVE TO:

A YOUNG BOY’S FACE
Pressed up against a window.
CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal --

EXT. BAYOU JUKE JOINT - NIGHT
A shack on the outskirts of town.
gravel parking lot is packed
with old jalopies.

We hear MUSIC bleeding out from within.
It’s hot jazz, CRACKLING with energy.

INT. BAYOU JUKE JOINT - NIGHT
A JAZZ BAND plays on a small stage.
They’re smokin’ hot.

Ripping the joint apart.
The guy on the sax is ON FIRE.

It’s all the rest of the band
can do to keep up with him.

The place is packed.
It’s hot and sweaty.

The crowd is going wild,
dancing up a storm.

Lubricated with booze and music.
Gyrating and sweating in
a whirlwind of ecstasy.

Enjoying the night.
Not a care in the world.

EXT. BAYOU JUKE JOINT - SIDE ALLEY - CONTINUOUS
THE YOUNG BOY (10) watches in the window.
Fixated on the sax player.

Snapping his fingers.
Imitating his moves.

INT. BAYOU JUKE JOINT - CONTINUOUS
The song ends.
The crowd ROARS it’s approval.

The sax player nods.
Leaves the stage.

A GUITARIST (40’s), a big, tall,
good-looking fella in a suit
takes the stage.
Nods at the band --

And then fucking RIPS into a tight,
honey-drenched blues riff,
simmering with feeling.
Joy. Pain. Release.

The crowd is dead quiet.
The women, RIVETED.

OUTSIDE IN THE ALLEY
Young Boy sees what’s going on.
The women LIKE this music.

BLUES GUITARIST
(sings)
I went down to the crossroads,
fell down on my knees --
I went down to the crossroads,
fell down on my knees --
asked the lord above for mercy,
save me if you please --

He makes the guitar WAIL.
SPEAK to the people.

A YOUNG GIRL (18) sitting at a table
right in front of him stares.

Licks her lips.
He notices her. Smiles.

Returns his attention to the guitar.
RIPS off another SHRIEKING solo.

She nods toward the door.
Raises her eyebrows, a question.

He smiles. Nods.
She gets up out of her seat.

EXT. BAYOU JUKE JOINT - SIDE ALLEY - CONTINUOUS
Young Boy has been watching
what just went down.

YOUNG BOY
Damn.

Suddenly Idola appears
and GRABS him by the ear.

IDOLA
Clarence Sims.
What did I tell you about
sneakin’ out of the house?
You come home RIGHT NOW.

CLARENCE
Ow, Momma.
Let go of my EAR.

She starts dragging him down the alley.

IDOLA
And what the hell are you doin’ HERE?
It’s NO PLACE for a young boy.
Your Daddy’s gonna tan your hide --

Blues Guitarist appears a few feet away,
holding Young Woman by the hand.

They laugh and stumble
drunkenly into the night.

He SMACKS her ass.
She lets out a throaty, dirty laugh.

Clarence stares at them, wide-eyed.

Idola sees them, freaks out,
then DRAGS him away --

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Zero Dark Rommy


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 the final chapter of ZOMBIE & JULIET, Rommy and Jool fight to the death a swarm of zombies on the roof of a building under construction, as a news helicopter above tries to rescue them ...


IN THE AIR ABOVE
Is a News Four chopper.

It starts slowly descending.
A rope ladder comes down.

Jool races over to it.
GRABS it.

Starts to climb up, but it SNAPS --
and she HITS the roof. THWUNK.

ROMMY
Finishes ripping them apart.

Races over to Jool,
chainsaw in hand,
nail gun tucked in his belt.

THE CHOPPER
Hovers above them.
The PILOT comes over the loudspeaker.

PILOT (V.O.)
(electronic)
Grab onto the undercarriage.
I’m afraid if I land,
more will come and get on.

Rommy nods.
Drops the chainsaw.

Puts his hands together
in front of his knees.
Jool looks at him. Scared.

ROMMY
Climb up. HURRY --
(off her look)
C’mon, GO --

She nods.
Puts one foot onto his hands,
reaches up, and he BOOSTS
her up to the undercarriage.

She starts climbing up
to the cockpit, just as --

ANOTHER LATE-STAGE INFECTED PROFESSOR
Comes out onto the roof.
Starts coming toward Rommy.
He GRABS the chainsaw. Snarls --

ROMMY
I’m getting REALLY
fucking sick of you guys.

He YANKS the cord. Nothing.
YANKS it again. Nothing.

Yanks it AGAIN.
It ROARS to life.

Then SPUTTERS OUT.
He DROPS it.

Infected Professor starts getting closer.
Rommy pulls out the nail gun.

CHARGES at him.
JAMS it against his forehead.

Tries to NAIL him.
CLICK. CLICK. CLICK. Nothing.

ROMMY
God-DAMMIT.

He GRABS Professor’s head.
TWISTS his neck. CRACK.

Professor weaves a little,
then falls over. THWUMP.

Rommy JAMS the gun in his belt.
RACES over to the chopper.

Tries to JUMP UP and
GRAB the undercarriage --
but it’s too high.

He JUMPS again. GRABS IT.
His hand SLIPS, and he FALLS.

THWUMP. He gets back up.
JUMPS again. Misses --

JOOL
Comes out the door of the cockpit.
Starts climbing back down.

THE PILOT
Watches her.
Shakes his head in amazement.

PILOT
Now THAT’S true love.
ON THE CHOPPER

Jool hugs the bars
of the landing gear.

Reaches down.
Rommy JUMPS UP.

GRABS her hand.
Starts climbing up,
just as --

ANOTHER WAVE OF ZOMBIES
Flies out onto the roof.
CHATTERING. SCREAMING.

They RACE over toward Rommy
just as he works his legs
up over the bar.

Rommy YANKS out the nail gun
and starts SMASHING them
on the head with it --
as the helicopter starts slowly rising.

IN THE HELICOPTER
The pilot, a grizzled, old news pro
looks at Rommy and Jool climbing in.
Tips his baseball cap.

GRIZZLED PILOT
Bet you kids were shore
glad to see ME.

They nod, staring down below
at the zombies filling the roof.

Relieved.
Hugging each other tightly.

ROMMY
You could say that.

JOOL
Thanks, mister.

GRIZZLED PILOT
Funny thing.
First I was trying
to cover the story,
then I had to start
saving people like you
trapped on top
of the buildings.
Life sure is funny
sometimes, huh?

Rommy gazes at Jool.
A glimmer of a smile.

She wipes his face
with her sleeve.
Nuzzles him with her nose.

ROMMY
(softly)
Hilarious.

Jool sighs.
Runs her fingers
through Rommy’s hair.

GRIZZLED PILOT
So where do you want me to
drop you two lovebirds off?

ROMMY
(looks at Jool)
Where do you want to go?

She smiles faintly.
Shakes her head. Exhausted.

JOOL
You decide.

He thinks a moment.
Then brightens.

ROMMY
I hear Staten Island is
really nice this time of year --

She nods. Leans in.
And they kiss.

FADE TO BLACK

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Stairway To Hell


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 33 of ZOMBIE & JULIET, Rommy and Jool make it onto the roof of the building and find a ton of construction equipment, but the zombies follow them, so Rommy starts nailing boards across the door to keep them at bay while Jool looks for the fire escape ...


INT. COLLEGE BUILDING - FIRST FLOOR FOYER - NIGHT
A pack of screaming, chattering ZOMBIES
run into the building,
now smelling uninfected human flesh.

IN THE STAIRWELL
Rommy leads Jool by the hand
as they stumble up the stairs.

He looks over the railing,
sees them coming from below.

ON THE SECOND FLOOR STAIRS
The wave of creatures
FLIES UP the steps.

AT THE TOP OF THE STAIRS
Rommy and Jool get to
a door to the roof.

He tries to open it,
but it’s LOCKED.

ROMMY
SHIT.

Jool looks at her hand.
It’s normal.
She looks at him.

JOOL
The vaccine?

ROMMY
Yeah.
We’re both good.

He KICKS it open, BANG.
They RACE OUT onto --

EXT. HUNTER COLLEGE SCHOOL OF MEDICINE - ROOF - NIGHT
Rommy SLAMS the door shut.
Sees a bunch of construction
equipment and lumber.
Abandoned during the apocalypse.

He walks over.
Picks up a nail gun.
Looks at Jool.

ROMMY
Go find the fire escape.
I’ll nail the door shut.
They’ll be up here any SECOND.

She nods.
Races off across the roof.
He grabs a board.

Starts NAILING it across
the door with the gun.
BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

Grabs another board.
Starts nailing it.

Suddenly there’s BANGING
and SCREAMING on the other side.

ROMMY
SHIT.

A mutant head CRASHES
through the door above the board.

He SHOOTS it between the eyes
with the nail gun.

It SCREAMS and POPS,
drenching him with goo.

ROMMY
FUCK.

He grabs another board.
Starts nailing it over where
the head crashed through.
BANG, BANG, BANG.

A pair of mutant arms BURSTS
through above that.

Then ANOTHER.
And ANOTHER.

ROMMY
NO, NO, NO --

He WHIRLS around.
Sees a CHAINSAW. GRABS it.

YANKS the cord.
The motor ROARS.

He SAWS through the arms --
CRUNCH, CRUNCH, CRUNCH, CRUNCH.
Gets SPRAYED with blood.

JOOL
Walks around the perimeter, searching.

JOOL
They don’t have a fire escape?

She makes it all the way around.
No dice. Then realizes.

JOOl
That’s what they were BUILDING --