Thursday, July 24, 2014

Burn Notice


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 9 of NOWHERE GIRL, the shit hits the fan when Homeland Security agent April Street discovers that not only has her boss Sledge Crafton fired her, he's sent a squad of assassins to take her out ...


INT. MERCEDES SUV - MOVING - NIGHT
April drives down Sunset Boulevard
west, into Hollywood.

She pulls out Token’s tracking device,
a small, hand-held PDA.

She FLICKS it on.
Looks at the screen.

APRIL
Bingo.
They’re only a mile or two away.

As the car takes a turn,
another car SWERVES toward her.

Her focus momentarily
away from the road,
she doesn’t see it,
and the cars SIDESWIPE
each other with a CRUNCH.

The other car pulls over.
April keeps going.

APRIL
Shit, shit, shit.

A siren WHOOPS behind her.
She checks out the rearview.

IN THE MIRROR
Is an LAPD black and white cruiser.
Cherry lights FLASHING.

APRIL
Pulls over. Stops.
Rolls down her window.

APRIL
Great. Just great.

A GRIM OFFICER approaches the car.
Leans in the window.

GRIM OFFICER
License, registration and
proof of insurance, please.

April goes into her handbag,
hands the officer her papers.
Then shows him her ID.

APRIL
I realize leaving the scene
of an accident is a
serious offense, officer,
but I’m a Homeland Security agent,
and this is a matter
of national security.
(low, urgent)
I need to retrieve
a runaway suitcase nuke.

He takes the ID.
Inspects it. Hmmm.

April is puzzled, as this normally
opens doors faster than a naked woman.

Then she notices the tattoo
on the side of his neck.
Strictly against LAPD regulations.

GRIM OFFICER
Would you please
step out of the car, Miss?

APRIL
Sure thing, officer.

She slowly opens the door,
and SMASHES it into his legs.
He BUCKLES, hits the ground.

April DASHES over,
GRABS his piece,
and KARATE KICKS him
in the head with a CRACK.

He goes down.

April retrieves her ID,
still clenched in the officer’s fist.

The other officer
gets out the squad car,
starts FIRING at her.

April LEAPS in front of the SUV,
and RETURNS FIRE.

APRIL
Sledge didn’t waste any time.

A HELICOPTER appears overhead.
April looks up.

APRIL
Whoah. He’s REALLY mad.

She pulls a GRENADE out of her pocket,
and, like a pitcher at the World Series --
HURLS it at the squad car.

BOOM.
It EXPLODES in a massive FIREBALL.

April JUMPS in the SUV,
and TAKES OFF in a SCREECH of rubber.

The chopper follows,
SPRAYING the SUV with MACHINE GUN FIRE.

INT. SUV - MOVING - CONTINUOUS
April feels around
under the driver’s seat.

APRIL
Let’s hope he’s got
some samples of the merchandise.

She pulls out a huge
TACTICAL ASSAULT WEAPON.

APRIL
Bingo.

April GUNS THE ENGINE.

EXT. SUNSET BOULEVARD - SUV - MOVING - CONTINUOUS
The car reaches an area full of
warehouses, soundstages, strip malls.
The grungy part of Hollywood.

The car HITS a hard right
at an intersection, tires SCREECHING,
and FLIES down an alley,
the chopper following.

INT. SUV - MOVING - CONTINUOUS
April sees the loading dock of a warehouse.
She pulls up to it. STOPS.
JUMPS out of the car with the gun.

A crew of WORKERS watch her.
Approach the car.

ANGRY WORKER
Hey, lady. You can’t park here.

SURPRISED WORKER
Shit! She’s got a gun!

The chopper ROARS above them.
Machine guns FIRING.

APRIL
(above the roar)
Stand back! Homeland Security!

She runs into the alley,
and FIRES up at the helicopter --
RAT-A-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT.

UP ABOVE
The chopper EXPLODES in what is now
the requisite massive fireball
of flames and smoke.

It CRASHES on the roof
of a nearby building, which IMPLODES.

April lowers her weapon.
Smiles grimly.

EXCITED WORKER
A hot chick like you
is Homeland Security?

SMILING WORKER
Where those terrorists?

APRIL
Sorry, fellas.
That’s on a need-to-blow-up basis --

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Fiddler On The Roofie


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 8 of NOWHERE GIRL, Homeland Security agent April Street makes her escape from the evil clutches of black ops spook Token Ware ... in his car. Meanwhile, undercover Al Queda terrorists Amad and Kamal decide to the let the trophy wife of their Hollywood Hills homeowner hostage take a bath room break ... after which they'll rape her.


EXT. MARDO’S JOINT - NIGHT
April comes out
the front door,
walks to the curb.
Sees Token’s big, black SUV.
Takes out his keys,
presses a button,
and THWIP,
the doors open.

APRIL
He won’t mind
if I borrow it
for a little while.

The front door FLIES OPEN,
and Token RACES toward April,
carrying the chair
she cuffed him to.

She JUMPS IN.
LOCKS the doors.

Token POUNDS
on the window.

TOKEN
Open the fucking DOOR,
BITCH!

APRIL
(pulls out her gun)
Back off!

He raises the chair,
and SMASHES it into
the driver’s side window,
SHATTERING it.

Glass SPRAYS.

April FLINGS the
door open, LEAPS OUT,
and KICKS him, WHACK!

He FLIES backward.
THUD.

He gets up,
chair now gone,

holding his chained
wrists apart,
like a weapon.

TOKEN
I’m gonna KILL you.

April SHOOTS him
in the head.

BANG.

It EXPLODES in a
cloud of red mist.

APRIL
Not if I kill you
first.
(beat)
Asshole.
Now I gotta
clean this up.

INT. HOLLYWOOD HILLS MANSION - NIGHT - AT THAT MOMENT
Hamad sits at the bar,
sips from a cut-glass
rock glass.

HAMAD
(to the husband)
Excellent scotch.
(holds up the bottle)
Glenlivet.
(to Kamal)
Make a note of it.

Kamal nods.
He starts pacing,
looks worried.

Hamad opens up a cigar box.
Takes one out. Sniffs it.

RICH HUSBAND
Cuban.
Help yourself.

He GRABS a fistful.
SHOVES them in his pocket.

HAMAD
Damn right
I help myself.

Hamad shoves one
in his mouth.
Starts to light it.

RICH HUSBAND
You’re supposed to
cut the --

HAMAD
SHUT UP.
I know how to
smoke CIGAR.

He BITES OFF the end.
SPITS IT out.

Sticks it back in.
FIRES it up.

He leans back, smiling.
Puffing away.

KAMAL
I am concerned about
the -- delivery, sir.

HAMAD
So we have to wait a bit.
We are comfortable.
I trust Avi.
He comes recommended
most highly.

Trophy Wife starts
quietly sobbing.

HAMAD
SILENCE.
One of the guards, SAAD,
grins a brown,
broken-tooth smile.

SAAD
She soiled herself,
oh holy one.

The other guard,
MOHAMMED, nods solemnly.

MOHAMMED
She smell like
wet camel in hot sun.

RICH HUSBAND
Please sir,
if you have any decency,
would you please let her
get cleaned up and change
into some fresh clothes.
We’re cooperating with you.
(takes off his watch)
Here, take my watch.
It’s a Rolex.
It’s worth twenty-five-
thousand dollars.

Saad SNATCHES the watch,
brings it to Hamad.

He inspects it, smiles,
slips it on.

HAMAD
Very well.
(to Saad)
Take the woman
to her room, let her
shower and change.

SAAD
And then I
have sex with her?

HAMAD
Of course.
(smiles)
We all will.
It is, how they say
in the States --
(beat)
Gang Bang?

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Severance Package


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 7 of NOWHERE GIRL, Homeland Security agent April Street goes mano-a-mano with her boss, black ops spook Sledge Crafton about the whereabouts of the missing 'package.' Meanwhile, stripper with a suitcase nuke Cherry Nation and Silverlake hipster Peeler Mardo have a run-in on the bus with a posse of gang-bangers ....


INT. MARDO’S JOINT - NIGHT
April looks through Token’s pockets.
Finds the handcuff keys.

APRIL
(on the phone)
Sledge.
What a pleasant surprise.

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. INTELLIGENCE OFFICE - NIGHT - AT THAT MOMENT
Sledge paces slowly, sipping scotch
from a cut-glass tumbler.

BARKS into the speakerphone
on his desk.

SLEDGE
Watch your tone with me, GIRLIE.
I’m still your fucking BOSS.

APRIL
Is that MY fucking boss --
or FUCKING my boss?

SLEDGE
Can it, Street, before I can YOU.
What’s going on?
You secure the case?

APRIL
Uh -- no.
There’s been a little -- problem.

SLEDGE
A little PROBLEM?
So help me Street,
if you’ve fucked this up,
I’m gonna have your ass.

APRIL
You’ve already had my ass.
Now listen to me, and don’t interrupt --

SLEDGE
STREET, GODAMMIT --

APRIL
SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!
Avi’s guy Ware came in
and fucked everything up!
The girl and the guy
who have the case split,
but I’ve got Ware’s tracking transmitter,
and I will FIND THEM and GET IT --
so stop thinking with your DICK,
take a CHILL PILL,
and let me do my JOB.

Sledge HURLS his glass
against the wall with a CRASH.

SLEDGE
How DARE you talk to me like that.
I will NOT have it.
I’m dismissing you from the case.
(beat)
And the unit.

APRIL
You’re putting out a
burn notice on me?

SLEDGE
See you IN HELL.

He PUNCHES the speakerphone,
sending it FLYING across the room --
where it CRACKS into the wall.

APRIL
Sledge? Boss? You there?
(beat)
Talk about a severance package --

INT. CITY BUS - MOVING - NIGHT
One of those long, red monsters,
in sections, like a snake.

Only a handful of passengers.
Cherry and Peeler sit toward the back.
Look at a video monitor.

CHERRY
I didn’t know they had TV on the bus.

PEELER
It’s not real TV. Watch.

ON THE SCREEN
A smiling LATINA gives a pitch
about ‘Accidentes Abigados.’

CHERRY
Makes a face.

CHERRY
It’s in Spanish.

PEELER
Welcome to how the other half lives.

The bus STOPS.
A trio of GANG-BANGERS (early 20’s) boards.

They strut down the aisle.
The first one, the LEADER, sees Cherry.

He stops. Nudges the others.
Gold-toothed smiles.

They move slowly, sauntering,
until they reach Cherry and Peeler.

The leader sits in front of them.
The others, behind.

LEAD GANG-BANGER
What'cha got in da case, mommy?

CHERRY
Uh -- nothing.

LEAD GANG-BANGER
Can’t be nothin’, or else
you wouldn’ta be cuffed to it.

The SHORT, UGLY GANG-BANGER
sitting behind Cherry
FLIPS open a switchblade,
revealing a long knife.

Cherry SHUDDERS.

SHORT, UGLY GANG-BANGER
It’s gotta be valuable, riiight?

The other kid, a TALLER,
GOOD-LOOKING GANG-BANGER pulls out
a forty-ounce bottle of malt liquor.
Takes a swig.

TALLER, GOOD-LOOKING GANG-BANGER
I say she open it
and show us what she’s got.

PEELER
That wouldn’t be a good idea.

LEAD GANG-BANGER
And why is dat?

The bus JERKS to a stop.
A FAT WOMAN in a wheelchair is getting on.
This will take a little while.

CHERRY
Because it’s a BOMB.

The Leader starts LAUGHING.
Then, the others join in.

LEAD GANG-BANGER
You kiddin’ me.
Why would a nice piece of pussy
like you have a BOMB?

CHERRY
For assholes like YOU.

She LEAPS UP -- and WHACKS
Leader in the head with the case,
CRACK, SPINS AROUND, and CRACKS
Short, Ugly in the face.

CHERRY
(to Peeler)
MOVE IT, now!

Peeler JUMPS UP, races toward the exit.
Tall, Good-Looking cowers with fear.

CHERRY
You want a piece of this, homes?

He shakes his head ‘no.’

CHERRY
I didn’t think so.
Hasta la vista,
refried motherfuckers.

EXT. BUS STOP - SECONDS LATER
Cherry and Peeler FLY
out the exit door.

RACE down the street.
LAUGHING and WHOOPING.

PEELER
Holy fucking shit!
You CLOCKED ‘em!

Cherry slows down.
Catches her breath.

CHERRY
I don’t know what happened.
It was like something snapped --
and I just DID it.

PEELER
You were great.
And I don’t even feel emasculated.
(beat)
Okay, where to now?

CHERRY
I’m starving.
Let’s grab a quick bite, regroup,
and then deliver this fucker.

PEELER
(staring, big smile)
I’d follow you
to the end of the earth.

Cherry stops.
Gives him the eye.

CHERRY
I’m still not gonna fuck you.

Monday, July 21, 2014

Leave The Bombing To Us


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.

In Chapter 6 of NOWHERE GIRL, the plot thickens when the Al Queda terrorists hiding in the Hollywood Hills contact Palestinian arms dealer Avi Abbas and ask where their 'missing package' is. Meanwhile, stripper with a suitcase nuke Cherry Nation and Silverlake hipster Peeler Mardo make their escape ... on the bus.


INT. HOLLYWOOD HILLS MANSION - NIGHT
Kamal clicks his phone shut.
Looks at Hamad.

KAMAL
She said there was a delay,
that she was on her way,
and then -- the line went dead.

HAMAD
I do not understand.

KAMAL
It sounded like there was a struggle.
Our operation might be comprised.

HAMAD
Give me your phone.

He does. Hamad PUNCHES a number. Listens.

HAMAD
Hello, Avi?

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. DOWNTOWN LOFT - NIGHT
Avi stands out on the balcony,
talking on his cell.

He fires up a smoke
with a CLICK of his Zippo.

AVI
I assume you are calling to thank me.
And to confirm that payment is on the way.

HAMAD
There has been NO DELIVERY.
This -- woman is late,
and then she calls and says
there has been a delay,
and then there is fighting
and the phone goes dead.
What kind of operation are you running!?

AVI
(smooth)
Please accept my profuse apologies.
I have someone on the way
to intercept it as we speak.
All my packages get delivered.
Let me call my man and
I’ll get back to you within the hour.

HAMAD
Very well. I will await your word.
And look forward to concluding this transaction.

INT. DOWNTOWN LOFT - BALCONY - CONTINUOUS
Avi FLINGS his cigarette over the ledge.

Furiously PUNCHES a number on his cell.
Listens.

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. MARDO’S JOINT - NIGHT - AT THAT MOMENT
April lies on the floor.
Token, a few feet away,
still out like a light.

She opens her eyes.
Sits up. Rubs her head.

APRIL
Shit.

The phone in Token’s pocket RINGS.

APRIL
That might be Avi --

She goes to his jacket,
gets the phone. Listens.

APRIL
Avi?

AVI
It’s YOU.
What THE FUCK is going on?
What HAPPENED? Why haven’t you
delivered the PACKAGE?
And where is TOKEN?

APRIL
TOKEN gave THE PACKAGE
to the WRONG PERSON.
A woman who looks like me.
He was EARLY. I was ON TIME.

AVI
Where is he now?

APRIL
On the floor. Out cold.

AVI
Where are you?

APRIL
Silverlake.
At the house of the woman
who he gave the case to.
Or maybe its her boyfriend’s place,
I’m not sure.

AVI
There’s ANOTHER person involved in this?

APRIL
Hey, you can thank Ware for that.

AVI
But you have the case?
From the woman?

APRIL
No. They’re gone.

AVI
What THE FUCK?

APRIL
Relax.
I’ve got Ware’s transmitter.
I’m gonna go get it.

AVI
But what about Ware?

APRIL
You think I give two shits?
I don’t answer to you.
WARE fucked this up, and now
I’M gonna have to clean up his mess.
(hears something)
I have another call.
I’ll call you back.
(punches a button)
This is Street.

EXT. SUNSET BOULEVARD - NIGHT
A lonely stretch of Sunset, way east.
Far from the strip.

Cherry and Peeler sit on a bench
at a bus stop. Waiting.

Cherry grips the briefcase
to her chest like it’s a baby.

PEELER
We should figure out a way
to get you out of those handcuffs.

CHERRY
That would be nice.

PEELER
(sees something)
There’s the bus.

CHERRY
Go Metro.
Leave the bombing to us --

Friday, July 18, 2014

Homeland Insecurity


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 NOWHERE GIRL, exotic dancer on the lam Cherry Nation discovers the mysterious briefcase handcuffed to her wrist she was ordered to deliver to an Al Queda sleeper cell contains a nuclear weapon. Meanwhile, the terrorists are wondering where the hell it is ...


INT. PEELER MARDO'S JOINT - NIGHT

TOKEN WARE
Walks into the room.
Holding a sawed-off shotgun.

TOKEN
You should lock your front door.
Open invitation for dangerous criminals.

CHERRY
YOU.

PEELER
That’s the guy who -- ?

TOKEN
I gave you an address
to take the case to.
And instead, you come to this
-trap to fuck this LOSER?

CHERRY
I’m gonna go, I’m gonna go.
We got shot at, at the airport,
and, and --

PEELER
We were -- just leaving.
Please don’t shoot us.

TOKEN
(to Cherry)
Did I say you could take
SOMEONE WITH YOU?
This isn’t a DATE.
We’re dealing with TERRORISTS here.
There’s a TIME-TABLE.
And now you’re LATE.
You think an AL QAEDA SLEEPER CELL
is just gonna HANG AROUND
ALL DAY and WAIT?

A GLOCK
Appears next to Token’s head.
The safety CLICKS.

WOMAN’S VOICE (O.C.)
Put the gun down, slowly.

APRIL
Stands in the doorway.
Token lowers the gun.

APRIL
You gave the case
to the wrong chick, doll.
(looks at Cherry)
Jesus Christ.
You could be my sister.

EXT. HOLLYWOOD HILLS - MANSION - NIGHT
A glass and steel monstrosity
right outta ENTOURAGE,
high on a cliff,
jutting out into
the sky on stilts.

INT. MANSION - LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
The very definition of ritzy.
The room is fucking HUGE.

An amazing view of
Los Angeles twinkles below.

Seated in front of a roaring fire is
HAMAD KHARRAZI, head of this
particular Al Qaeda sleeper cell.

His second-in-command,
KAMAL AESEFIJ, stands before him.

Both wear ‘Hollywood casual’
jeans and polo shirts with jackets.

KAMAL
We have heard nothing yet, sir.

HAMAD
American BITCH.

FEMALE VOICE (O.C.)
Excuse me.

HAMAD
I told you to be SILENT.

CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal --

The homeowners.
A RICH HUSBAND (50’s)
and his TROPHY WIFE (20’s).

Seated on another sofa
across the room.

Right now being held at gunpoint
by TWO AFGHANI TERRORISTS with Uzis.

Dressed in hip-hop baggies
and baseball caps.

TROPHY WIFE
I’m sorry, but I, I --
need to use the -- ladies’ room.

HAMAD
Stay where you are!
You can piss yourself for all I care!

KAMAL
I have an idea.

HAMAD
And what is your IDEA?

KAMAL
Well, as you know,
I am a bit of what they call
a tech-head here in the states.

HAMAD
Yes, I know.
You went to university.

KAMAL
Ball State, sir.
Excellent humanities
and science programs.

HAMAD
I am growing impatient, Kamal --

KAMAL
Well, since she called us
on the cell phone,
we can return the call
with the push of a button.

HAMAD
We CAN?

KAMAL
But of course,
it’s stored on the phone.
I suggest we -- call her.
Find out what the story is.
Fuck Avi.

HAMAD
BRILLIANT.
Call her IMMEDIATELY.

Kamal smiles.
Pulls out his cell.
Punches a button. Listens.

KAMAL
It’s ringing --

INT. MARDO’S JOINT - NIGHT - AT THAT MOMENT
April holds her gun against Token’s head.

TOKEN
It was an honest mistake.
She looks just like you.

APRIL
I said PUT THE GUN DOWN, NOW.

TOKEN
I will if you do.

CHERRY
(to Token)
Please don’t shoot me.

APRIL
He won’t shoot you, not when
you’re carrying a suitcase nuke.

CHERRY
A suitcase wh-what?

PEELER
Holy SHIT.

TOKEN
Why did you TELL HER?

April’s phone RING-RINGS in her pocket.

APRIL
Shit.

RING-RING
Token moves on April.
She PISTOL-WHIPS him. THWUMP.

APRIL
Stay RIGHT THERE.

RING-RING
April WHIPS out handcuffs,
CUFFS him to a chair, CLICK-CLICK.

While she’s busy,
Peeler tip-toes away.

She pulls out her cell.
Answers it.

APRIL
This is Street.
(listens)
There’s been a delay.
I’m on my way.

From behind, Peeler SMASHES
April on the head with a lamp.

She reels, and goes down, THWUMP.

CHERRY
NICE.
Let’s get the fuck OUTTA HERE.

PEELER
Maybe we should -- call the cops?

CHERRY
Are you fucking kidding?

PEELER
But --

CHERRY
(holds up the case)
You know how much this is WORTH?
I say we deliver it ourselves.

PEELER
And what, take the money?

CHERRY
Hell, yeah.

PEELER
Won’t that be -- kinda dangerous?

PUSH IN ON Cherry.
Dollar signs in her eyes.

CHERRY
Probably.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Rules Of Procedure


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 NOWHERE GIRL, Homeland Security agent April Street gets reamed by her boss, black ops spook Sledge Crafton about letting 'the package' get away. Meanwhile, exotic dancer Cherry Nation and Silverlake hipster Peeler Mardo lay low at his joint and try to figure out where to deliver the briefcase handcuffed to her wrist ...


INT. TAXI CAB - MOVING - NIGHT
April drives down city streets.
Talks into her hands-free.

APRIL
I TOLD you.
Someone got there
before I did.

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. INTELLIGENCE OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
SLEDGE CRAFTON (50),
beefy ex-Marine,
now gone to seed,
leans toward the
speakerphone on his desk.

Strokes the ugly scar
that crisscrosses his face.
Angry. Beet-red.

SLEDGE
You really fucked
this up, Street.
GODDAMIT.

APRIL
Hey!

The traffic was FUCKED
on the 405.
And I was ON TIME.
The fucker was EARLY,
and he gave the package
to SOMEONE ELSE.

SLEDGE
Another heartbreaker?
Like yourself?

Pause.

APRIL
Look, chief.
We did it one time.
It was a mistake.
I was grieving --

SLEDGE
Didn’t you ever
wonder why I took you on?
(BANGS on the desk)
A fucking STUNT WOMAN
with no experience?

APRIL
But you said I --

SLEDGE
I fucking said
what you wanted to hear.
I wanted to
get in your pants
from day one.
And against all odds,
I molded you into
one of our top operatives.
(beat)
Until now.

APRIL
For your information, BOSS,
I’m right now approaching
the house of the person
has the package.
I WAS calling in
for back up.
But never mind.
I’ll handle it myself.
You can go FUCK your
rules of procedure.

SLEDGE
Now THAT’S the feisty lass
I groomed for greatness.
You get that case,
AND make the delivery,
I MIGHT JUST consider
keeping you on.

PUSH IN ON April.
Royally pissed.

APRIL
Wow.
Does that mean I
can still come to
the company picnic?

EXT. SILVERLAKE STREET - BUNGALOW - NIGHT
A decrepit pre-war bungalow
on a street with
similar small houses.

Classic cars and bicycles
dot the landscape.

Peeler opens the front door,
ushers Cherry in.

PEELER
It’s not much,
but I call it hovel.

INT. MARDO’S JOINT - CONTINUOUS
Classic hipster combination of Ikea,
found threadbare furniture.

Ironic art.
Plants. Pizza boxes.

Giant plasma screen, though.
And a decent stereo.

Cherry walks around.
Inspecting.

CHERRY
Not bad for a guy.
Not filthy.
(stops, looks at him)
I’m not fucking you,
you know.

PEELER
I wasn’t -- thinking you --
(beat)
You want me to
fix you a chai latte?

CHERRY
Gag me.
You got a beer?

PEELER
Sure thing.

Peeler wanders into the kitchen.
Cherry goes to the couch.
Plops down.

Puts the briefcase next to her.
Pulls out the envelope.

RIPS it open.
Pulls out the instructions.
Reads.

Peeler comes in with
two large bottles of beer.

PEELER
(hands one to her)
Here you go --

CHERRY
(takes it, looks)
What the hell kinda
beer IS this?

PEELER
Flat tire.
Microbrew.

CHERRY
I bet you listen to
a lot of Beck.
(holds up the piece of paper)
We gotta take the briefcase
to this address.
But I don’t where it is.

PEELER
Let me see.

She hands it over.
Peeler reads it.

CHERRY
Where is it?

PEELER
Dude.
That’s in the
Hollywood hills.

A FIGURE IN BLACK
appears in the window.
Then disappears.

CHERRY
Will you go with me?

PEELER
I don’t -- have a car.
It’s in the shop.

MALE VOICE (O.C.)
That’s okay.
I do.

TOKEN WARE
Walks into the room.
Holding a sawed-off shotgun.

TOKEN
You should lock
your front door.
Open invitation
for dangerous criminals --




Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Patriot Acts


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 NOWHERE GIRL, exotic dancer Cherry Nation escapes the gunfight at the airport and jumps into a cab, with Homeland Security agent April Street in hot pursuit. Meanwhile, Palestinian arms dealer Avi Abbas watched the action on the news and contacts his black ops spook Token Ware, the goon that handcuffed the briefcase to Cherry's wrist right before the shit hit the fan ...


EXT. AIRPORT TAXI STAND - NIGHT
Cherry DASHES over to a gypsy cab.

CHERRY
TAXI!

She GRABS the door,
WHIPS IT OPEN, JUMPS in.

Peeler piles in after her.
SLAMS the door.

INT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS
Cherry BARKS at the DRIVER,
a frightened-looking Turk.

CHERRY
Let’s GO, c’mon!

TURKISH CABBIE
Wherefor you wish to go?

CHERRY
I don’t care!
Just get us the fuck OUTTA HERE.

PEELER
Silverlake, please.
(to Cherry)
You’ll be safe at my joint.

CHERRY
‘Joint?’
Read much Mickey Spillane?

EXT. TAXI STAND - NIGHT - AT THAT MOMENT
April RACES up to a cab.
OPENS the driver’s side door.
FLASHES her ID.

APRIL
Homeland Security!
I’m taking your cab!
Outta the car!

The FAT CABBIE looks at her.
Takes a bite of his candy bar.

FAT CABBIE
Fuck you, lady, I’m not --

April GRABS his arm, starts
PULLING him out of his seat.

APRIL
C’mon, move it, you FAT FUCK.

With all her might,
April YANKS him out.

He HITS the pavement.
She JUMPS IN.

Fat lies in the street
like a beached whale.

He FLAILS around, trying to
right himself, get up.

APRIL
(out the window)
Some patriot YOU are.

And she GUNS IT and ROARS away.

EXT. 405 FREEWAY - NIGHT
A large, black MERCEDES SUV
flies down the carpool lane.

INT. SUV - MOVING - CONTINUOUS
The Tall, Ugly Thug we met earlier
is behind the wheel.

Meet TOKEN WARE, former CIA,
now black ops gun for hire.

He takes a sip of designer coffee.
Swipes his I-phone screen.

TOKEN
Avi? It’s Ware.

SPLIT SCREEN WITH:

INT. DOWNTOWN LOFT - CONTINUOUS
A secure HQ in a plush loft space.
Several ARMED OPERATIVES mill about.

Scan computer screens.
Clean weapons.

Their LEADER looks out
the high rise window
at the city lights
while talking on his Bluetooth.

AVI
You make the drop?

Meet AVI ABBAS (45).
Palestinian ex-pat.

Now international arms dealer.
He lights up a Gitanes.
Checks his Rolex.

TOKEN
Yeah.
Broad was acting funny, though.

AVI
What do you mean 'funny?'

TOKEN
Hard to say. Gut feeling.
Like she was in over her head.

A BIG, YOUNG SPOOK comes over to Avi.

BIG, YOUNG SPOOK
Sir, you need to see this.

He PUNCHES a remote.
A sixty-inch PLASMA SCREEN snaps on.

INT. NEWSROOM - CONTINUOUS
A SERIOUS TALKING HEAD
sits at the news desk.

SERIOUS TALKING HEAD
-- where at Los Angeles
International Airport,
a gunfight broke out at a sports bar.
We go now to Charlie Huston,
live at the scene.

EXT. AIRPORT TARMAC - CONTINUOUS
Reporter CHARLIE HUSTON stands
in front of the open bar window.
We can see a CRIME SCENE CREW is working.

CHARLIE
Thanks, Rolf.
(dramatic pause)
One hour ago a team of military operatives
opened fire on this airport bar,
killing three people and injuring two.
Witnesses say the men were shot
and killed by a young woman
who then left the scene on foot --

AVI
Shut it off.

The spook does.

TOKEN
Pulls his car over
to the side of the road. Stops.

Pulls out a LAPTOP.
Boots it up.

AVI
Paces, worried.

AVI
You better check on the girl.
Make sure she’s alive.
And delivering the package.

TOKEN
I’m one step ahead of you.
(punches buttons, looks)
She’s going east --
instead of north.

AVI
Find her.
And find out what
the fuck is going on.
We’re taking about
a million dollars.
She might be trying to
sell it to someone else
for a higher price.

TOKEN
Duplicitous bitch.
That’s why she was a bit off.

AVI
Doo-plicitous?

TOKEN
Means two-timing.
Double-crossing.
(beat)
Like your wife.

AVI
We must show respect
for the dead, Mr. Ware.

Token does a ‘take.’
Looks quizzical.

TOKEN
Even when you killed them?