Magic Fingers

Hello, crime buffs. What's happening. Me? I'm gonna go see a show tonight featuring a new friend of mine. A new co-conspirator. He's asked me to work on a new project with him, and I'm tingly all over. Have to keep you in the dark for now. Don't want to jinx it until things have been finalized. Not to worry. You know me -- as soon as I know more, I'll be my usual, shameless, self-promoting self.

Screened WHAT DOESN'T KILL YOU last night -- a cool, little indie crime flick featuring Ethan Hawke, Mark Ruffalo, Donnie Wahlberg and Amanda Peet. Nasty little mob story about low-level thugs in South Boston. Small story, but well-told. To say more would ruin the surprises in store. Check it out.

Onto today's joint from GUN-WILD. I'm gonna skip the next scene, because it's short. Just know that robbery/homicide detectives Bobby Teen and Taya Ralls have learned the identity of the owner of the Winnebago, and it's a doozy -- billionaire media mogul Geffin Diller. (Nice, huh?) They're now on their way over to his estate, armed with a picture of Cam -- who we now realize is his daughter.

So let's get back to Cam and Rod. They've just jacked a local dive bar, and are now once again ...

On the lam.

***

EXT. VENICE PIER - PARKING LOT - AT THAT MOMENT

Rod and Cam RUN to the VW van.

JUMP in. SLAM the doors.

He rubs the wires together.

They SPARK. The engine ROARS.

ROD

Let’s get the fuck OUTTA HERE.

Cam turns, looks in the back.

CAM

The MONEY, it’s GONE!

ROD

(SLAMS on the brakes)

What THE FUCK?

He looks.

THE BACK OF THE VAN

Is empty.

ROD

POUNDS on the steering wheel.

ROD (CONT’D)

God-DAMMIT!

That was TWO-HUNDRED GRAND.

CAM

We should’ve taken it with us, LIKE I SAID.

ROD

Shut the fuck up and let me think.

CAM

Think while you’re driving.

We gotta get THE FUCK OUTTA HERE.

Rod puts the van into gear,

and ROARS out the parking lot.

ROD

We gotta find a place to hole up for a bit.

Then make a new score.

CAM

How much did we get from the bar?

ROD

About five-hundred.

That should keep us going for a little while.

CAM

Rod, we gotta blow town.

The cops are gonna trace the RV back to my parents.

(beat)

If they already haven’t.

ROD

Shit. Fuck me in the ass. FUCK ME.

(thinks)

Okay. Here’s what we do.

We hole up in a fleabag motel,

the kind where they don’t give a fuck.

Then, tomorrow -- we change our appearance

so we look different, and go knock off another bank.

CAM

NOW you’re talking.

ROD

(looks up ahead)

As a matter of fact,

there’s a nice little ‘adult motel’ coming up.

The van drives through an intersection.

CAM

You mean the kind with the magic fingers?

ROD

Give you any ideas?

CAM

How can you think of sex at a time like this?

ROD

I’m a guy.

CAM

That’s all you guys think about.

You think with your dick.

ROD

At least I don’t think with my gun.

(looks out the window)

We’re here.

EXT. ADULT MOTEL - NIGHT

A shitty, run-down joint with bars on the windows next to a vacant lot.

The sign reads THE STARLET. FREE HBO.

The VW van pulls into the parking lot. Stops.

IN THE VAN

Rod turns, looks at Cam.

ROD

Cam, baby. We’ve been through a lot of shit today.

We’re both exhausted. Strung out.

CAM

Yeah.

ROD

Look. I really care about you.

And I’m sorry about what happened with -- you know.

CAM

DON’T say it.

ROD

It’s okay, it’s okay. I won’t.

(beat)

Let’s just chill out, have a couple of drinks,

watch a movie, and get some sleep.

How does that sound?

CAM

(tiny voice)

That would -- be nice.

ROD

And I won’t try anything. Promise.

(beat)

Okay?

Cam looks at him. Her lip quivers.

Tears light up her eyes.

CAM

Okay.

She leans over. Puts her arms around him.

CAM (CONT’D)

I could -- almost love you.

***

Cluster-Fuck

Happy 'hump-day,' my legions of worker bees. (God, how I hate that term.) Like that old song says, 'everybody's workin' for the weekend.' Nope. Not me. Life's too short to spend 5 days of the week waiting for the 6th. And why the fuck is everybody happy that it's Friday? You're still at work. Shouldn't you be happy on SATURDAY?

Har har har har.

Screened a great film last night. Rod Lurie's NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. A thinly disguised, fictional version of the Valerie Plame / Scooter Libby CIA agent-outing story where that journalist went to jail for not revealing her source. Well, if the reporter is Kate Beckinsale, I'm ain't revealing nothin.' Great cast, including Valeria Farmiga, Alan Alda, Noah Wylie, Matt Dillon, and -- believe it or not, David Schwimmer, superb in a dramatic role. Important story about 1st amendment rights. Should be shown in classrooms.

And you thought I only liked violent stuff.

Well, okay -- there was some nifty 'women in prison' stuff with Kate in the lockup. Nice scene where she beats the shit outta some redneck chick who's stolen her bunk. Poor baby's been in jail for a year, and is starting to lose it.

Onto today's delicacy from GUN-WILD -- and this one's a doozy.

Cam and Rod head into their favorite neighborhood watering hole to take a load off and chill for a little bit ...

And then all hell breaks loose.

***

INT. HINANO’S - MOMENTS LATER

A warm, cozy, dark, beachy dive. Old-school.

Sawdust and peanut shells on the floor. Pool table. Neon beer signs.

The jukebox plays The Clash’s cover of I FOUGHT THE LAW over --

A pair of LOCALS at end of the bar watch a ball game

on an old TV suspended by chains up above.

Rod and Cam walk in. All eyes turn and look.

THE BARTENDER (40’s), is a large gal with a gorgeous face.

Biker-chic, with long red hair. Harley T-shirt. Bandana. Boots.

FAT BARTENDER

ROD FUNK? What the FUCK?

Where the hell have YOU been?

ROD

(smiles)

Rosie. Haven’t changed a bit.

ROSIE

Bull-shit. I get fatter every year.

(looks at Cam)

And who is this? You cheating on me?

ROD

This here is Cam. Fastest gun at the beach.

CAM

(waves)

Hey.

ROSIE

Pleased to meet you, doll.

(to Rod)

Am I getting older, or are your fillies getting younger.

ROD

Don’t give me that shit.

You don’t look day over twenty-nine, baby.

ROSIE

Flattery will get your dick sucked.

Name your poison.

First round’s on the house.

ROD

Double shot of Jack, and a bottle of Corona.

CAM

Works for me.

Rosie turns, grabs a bottle of Jack.

Pours three shots. Slides two over.

Grabs two bottles from the cooler.

CRACKS them open.

Puts them in front of Rod and Cam.

ROD

(lifts his shot)

Much obliged.

(to Cam)

Honey? A toast?

CAM

(lifts hers)

To?

ROSIE

(raises hers)

Getting FUCKED UP.

They all smile. DOWN them.

ROD

(wipes his mouth)

Hit me again. Fucking cold out there.

ROSIE

(smiles, pours)

So what do I owe the pleasure

of your company this fine evening?

ROD

Just in the nabe.

Haven’t been here in awhile,

thought it would be fun to --

ROSIE

(to Cam)

Did you know your fella used to play

Ring Around the Rosie?

ROD

Rosie --

CAM

WHAT?

ROSIE

That’s right, dolly.

(glares at Rod)

Said he liked a gal with a little MEAT on her bones.

(glares at Cam)

But now it looks like he prefers BONES --

with no MEAT.

CAM

What the FUCK?

ROD

Rosie --

MALE VOICE (O.C.)

Holy fucking SHIT.

A GRIZZLED REGULAR

at the end of the bar looks at Rosie.

GRIZZLED REGULAR

ROSIE. Turn on the news.

Them two are BANK ROBBERS.

Cops are lookin’ for ‘em.

ROSIE

Get the fuck outta here.

She turns around.

Flicks on the TV next to the register.

ON THE TV

We see Kim’s perfect drawing of Rod and Cam.

REPORTER (V.O.)

-- wanted in connection with the deaths

of three cops and two civilians. If you see them,

contact your local precinct immediately, and be careful.

They’re considered armed and extremely dangerous.

We go now to David Brazil, on the scene at Venice Beach.

Rosie reaches under the bar --

ROSIE

You fucking ASSHOLE.

You have the nerve to come in here --

(pulls up a baseball bat)

And FUCK with my BUSINESS.

Cam WHIPS out her Glock.

CLICKS the safety.

CAM

Put the fucking bat down, you FAT CUNT --

or I’ll blow your TITS OFF.

ROSIE

You wouldn’t fucking DARE.

ROD

Cam, let’s just get the fuck outta here.

ROSIE

Beat it, WHORE.

CAM

CUNT!

Cam FIRES -- BANG.

The mirror behind the bar EXPLODES.

ROSIE

(swings the bat)

Fucking BITCH!

Cam PLUGS Rosie in the face.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

Her head EXPLODES.

She DROPS the bat, CRACK.

Hits the floor, THWUNK.

GRIZZLED REGULAR

(whispers)

Holy SHIT.

CAM

(to Rod)

Empty the register and let’s get THE FUCK outta here.

Rod HOPS over the bar.

BANGS open the drawer.

Starts grabbing the money.

Turns and looks.

ROD

Why did ya have to go and do that?

CAM

(glaring)

She disrespected me.

Some boyfriend YOU turned out to be.

(lowers the gun)

Grab a couple bottles of and LET’S GO.

Rod shoves the money in his pocket.

Grabs the booze.

Grizzled Regular stares at Cam.

Shaking with fear.

GRIZZLED REGULAR

Please don’t shoot. We didn’t see nothing.

We-we-we won’t t-talk.

The other regular, a dumb-looking CONSTRUCTION WORKER

whispers into his cell phone.

Cam sees this. MARCHES over.

CAM

GIMMEE THAT PHONE.

(snatches it from him)

Who THE FUCK were you calling?

(looks)

911? GODDAMMIT.

She SHOOTS him in the head. BANG.

Dumb-looking falls off his stool.

Hits the floor. THUMP.

GRIZZLED REGULAR

Ohmigod, NO -- PLEASE, NO!

Cam puts the gun in the waistband of her jeans.

Smiles. Evil.

CAM

Don’t worry. You get to live.

(beat)

Gotta leave someone to tell the story.

Grizzled nods vigorously, scared shitless.

CAM (CONT’D)

You tell the fucking cops that it was SELF-DEFENSE.

That the fat, fucking whore was gonna ATTACK ME.

Got it?

GRIZZLED REGULAR

G-got it.

CAM

(to Rod)

Let’s blow this cluster-fuck.

***

Scene of the Crime

Welcome back to my den of inquity. My dark lair of depravity. A place where you can kick back, crack open a cold one, and get your crime groove on. Welcome back my friends, to the shot that never ends ...

Screened CLOVERFIELD last night. At first it gave me a headache, with all that hand-held camera shit. But it eventually calmed down a bit, and gave me quite the thrill ride. Cast of unknowns -- all the money was spent on F/X, and it showed. Scary fucking monster. Really well-done. The opening party sequence was a bit too long -- shit doesn't happen fr 20 minutes, and that much time wasn't needed to establish who was who. And, if you'll pardon me, everyone was too fucking good-looking. I used to live in Manhattan, and travelled in those arty, hipster circles, and trust me -- they didn't look like that. Guess that's what happens when you hire slick LA actors for story that takes place in NYC. (And only ONE black guy ... hello?) Ah, well ...

Onto today's joint from GUN-WILD. The set up ... the calm before the next big storm. Bobby and Taya get an amazing crime scene drawing of Rod and Cam. Then, Rod and Cam, having eluded the fuzz, decide to warm up and chill for a bit at a local neighborhood tavern.

Like I said, the calm before the storm. A violent, bloody, nasty storm, at that.

***

INT. WINNEBAGO - LIVING AREA - AT THAT MOMENT

The joint hums with activity.

Two pairs of CORONER’S OFFICE TECHS

carry out the bodies on gurneys.

CRIME SCENE TECHS dust the place for prints.

A PHOTOGRAPHER takes pictures.

Asian Art Vendor sits on the couch

with a sketch book, drawing.

Bobby and Taya sit on either side watching her.

BOBBY

You’re really good.

ASIAN ART VENDOR

Thank you. I like to -- sketch.

TAYA

(writes in notebook)

What’s your name, please?

ASIAN ART VENDOR

Kim Oh --

BOBBY

Kim O. -- what?

(off her look)

Your last name?

KIM

Oh. Spelled ‘O,’ ‘H.’

TAYA

Oh. Got it.

KIM

You couldn’t pronounce real name.

BOBBY

You ever consider working for the police department,

you’ve got a job.

Hispanic Cop walks into the room.

HISPANIC COP

How’s it going.

BOBBY

Amazing. Take a look.

(nudges Kim)

Show him?

Kim turns the sketch around.

We see an incredibly photo-realistic

picture of Cam and Rod.

HISPANIC COP

Holy shit. That’s them.

BOBBY

Can you get this out right away?

HISPANIC COP

Sure.

BOBBY

Send it to every department

in a hundred mile radius.

TAYA

And the media. Five people are dead.

HISPANIC COP

(takes the drawing)

I’m on it like white on rice.

(realizes)

Uh -- sorry about that.

He leaves.

Kim looks at the coffee table.

Wipes the glass with her finger.

Rubs it on her gums.

TAYA

Hey.

BOBBY

It’s okay. She’s in shock.

(to Kim)

No more of that, okay?

KIM

(nods, looks at him)

That’s good shit.

(beat)

Nice -- freeze.

EXT. VENICE PIER - DUSK

Sunset. A cloud-covered orange smear on the gray horizon.

The VW bus rolls into the lot. Stops.

IN THE VAN

Cam rubs her bare arms.

CAM

I’m cold.

ROD

Let’s go get something to warm us up.

CAM

(evil smile)

Liquor store?

ROD

Uh-uh.

(meaningfully)

Hinano’s.

CAM

What’s Hinano’s?

ROD

You don’t know HINANO’S?

It’s only been around for 75 years.

50 microbrews on tap.

Hot and cold running shooters.

Killer jukebox.

And the best burgers in town.

(beat)

And if you know the owner,

you can get mescal.

CAM

(eyes light up)

Let’s go eat the worm.

(beat)

You think they’ll have much in the register?

ROD

Cam, this is one of my old hangouts.

CAM

So we’re just gonna have drinks?

ROD

Yeah. We’re just gonna chill for a little bit.

You know, like ‘normal’ people?

CAM

Normal? What’s that?

***

Cocaine Cowboys

Welcome to Monday, the day so nice, it sucks. Well, for most people. Now that the 9 to 5 is fairly far behind me in the rearview, it's smooth sailing. God, I hate that thirty-foot commute.

Screened another Kathryn Bigelow flick last night, NEAR DARK. Amazing vampire film, about a traveling family of 'em in the cowboy west. A real genre-twist. No goth, no holy water, no garlic. Just a pack of rowdy villians out for blood. Seems that the young hottie vampire is a little horny, and meets a cute cowpoke at the Taste-E Freeze, who also wants to make nice with her. Heavy petting leads to heavy biting, and now the poor kid has to decide if he can kill and become one of the undead. Superb stuff. Features a REALLY young Bill Paxton, a reliably sleazy Lance Henrikson, and a teenage James LeGros in a bit part. Check it out. Beautifully shot, and it all takes place at night ... NEAR DARK.

Okey. Onto today's scene from GUN-WILD. It's a sequence, actually. Since the next two scenes are short, you're gonna get 'em both at once. A real kick to the solar plexus.

First up, Robbery/Homicide cops Bobby and Taya enter the Winnebago, rescue the hostage, and then make a grisly discovery. Then we cut to Rod and Cam, on the lam ... about play their favorite game ...

***

IN THE WINNEBAGO
Bobby and Taya walk carefully into the back,

weapons drawn.

BOBBY

(nods at the door)

I’m gonna check out the bedroom.

You cover me.

TAYA

Got it.

Bobby KICKS OPEN the door.

BURSTS IN.

IN THE BEDROOM

Bobby sees Asian Art Vendor.

Rushes to her. Peels off the duct tape.

Starts untying the ropes.

IN THE MAIN ROOM

Taya starts climbing the circular staircase.

Bobby comes into the room with Asian.

BOBBY

Look what I found.

Asian stares. Mute. Terrified.

TAYA

A hostage --

BOBBY

And she’s in shock.

TAYA

I’m gonna go upstairs. You stay with her.

Look for evidence.

BOBBY

Got it.

(beat)

Love it when you take charge.

Taya starts up the stairs.

Bobby motions for Asian to sit on the couch.

She does. Looks like she’s about to implode.

Bobby goes to the coffee table.

Wets a finger. Wipes it on the glass.

Tastes it.

BOBBY

Got ourselves some cocaine cowboys.

ASIAN ART VENDOR

Not cowboys -- man and woman.

BOBBY

Did you see their faces?

ASIAN ART VENDOR

Yes. I can draw picture if you like.

BOBBY

I like.

UPSTAIRS

Taya slowly reaches the top of the stairs,

gun aimed with both hands. Listening.

She walks into the bedroom, and sees --

Hondo and Net’s dead bodies.

Lying in pools of blood. Candle still flickering.

Soft Buddha chill still thumping.

She SCREAMS.

EXT. VENICE ALLEY - AT THAT MOMENT

The cop in the cruiser hears the scream.

JUMPS OUT of the car.

DASHES into the Winnebago.

ROD AND CAM

Watch from the VW van.

ROD

That’s our cue.

He touches two stripped wires together on the steering column.

They SPARK. The bus engine ROARS to life.

He puts it in gear,

and they start slowly driving down the alley.

IN THE VAN

Cam looks at Rod.

ROD (CONT'D)

Where we gonna go?

CAM

Hell if I know.

ROD

Let’s go down to the Venice pier.

We need to think, regroup.

We can sleep in the back.

(weird smile)

Pretend it’s the summer of love.

CAM

We can -- play that game again.

ROD

Don’t you ever want -- vanilla?

CAM

Sorry, love-bucket.

(pulls out her gun)

Not on the menu.

***

The Fugitive Kind

Sunday. A day of rest. Kinda fucked up day for me. Second week anniversary of Tina the Wonder Dog's passing away. Damn, I loved that mutt. Alway there for me. Never flaked. A writer friend sent me a note today. Said it's my humanity that shows in my work.

I guess so.

Another friend wrote to tell me how rare it is for someone -- person or animal -- to pass away in their sleep. Said it meant they had a great life. And yes she did. Luckiest fucking dog on the planet.

Cause she had me.

Norman Mailer said 'A great writer gets the writing done, even when things are tough.' Words to live by. So, here I sit, plugging away ..

On a lighter note, I screened GONE IN 60 SECONDS last night. Now, before you start giving me shit about my taste in movies, please know that I've been watching alot of escapist crap the last couple of weeks because I've been in grief. And guess what? I like it. I still like Hitchcock and the Coen brothers and Jean-Pierre Melville, but sometimes a gal just needs to unplug and chill with stupid popcorn fluff. (And besides, it's never a bad thing to check out what the masses like.) 60 SECONDS was ridiculous, and a blast. Nic Cage with orange hair? A baby Giovanni Ribisi -- and, holy SHIT, a very young, surly-sexy Angelina Jolie, all dreadlocks, lips and power-tools. Yikes.

Onto today's sequence from GUN-WILD. Heisters Rod and Cam have escaped the fuzz, and are now looking for new wheels. Robbery/Homicide officers Bobby Teen and Taya Ralls are searching the Winnebago ... and find a bloody surprise.

***

EXT. STREET CORNER - AT THAT MOMENT

Bobby and Taya RUN down the alley off the boardwalk.

Reach the corner. Stop. Look around.

BOBBY

Shit.

TAYA

Fuck.

BOBBY

Where did they go?

Another POLICE CRUISER roars up the corner.

BRAKES with a SCREECH of rubber.

They dash over to it.

BEEFY HISPANIC COP

Are you Robbery/Homicide?

BOBBY

(nods)

Detective Teen, this is detective Ralls.

HISPANIC COP

(eyes her)

Hi, there.

(nods at the car)

Jump in. They’re around her somewhere.

Could use the extra eyes.

They get in.

The cruisers ROARS off down Speedway.

INT. WINNEBAGO - AT THAT MOMENT

Cam’s got the gym bag, filled with wet money.

Water drips onto the floor.

Rod finishes tying up Asian Art Vendor with rope.

SLAPS duct tape over her mouth.

She stares balefully.

CAM

Chink’s got eyes like a puppy dog.

Rod grabs a towel. Ties it around her head.

ROD

There.

CAM

Maybe we should put her to sleep.

ROD

NO. We’re in enough trouble as it is.

CAM

I was JOKING.

ROD

You’re a goddamn laugh-riot.

Now let’s get the fuck out of here.

EXT. WINNEBAGO - CONTINUOUS

Rod and Cam walk down the alley.

Approach an old VW van.

ROD

Perfect.

He goes to the passenger door.

Jimmies it open. They pile in.

INT. VW VAN - CONTINUOUS

Cam shoots Rod a look.

CAM

What is it with you and old cars?

ROD

I told you, they’re easier to break into --

and there’s usually no alarm.

(looks in the rear view)

Shit, COPS. Duck down --

They crouch down in the seat.

IN THE ALLEY

The police cruiser pulls up alongside the Winnebago.

Bobby and Taya jump out. RACE over to door.

Pull out their guns.

IN THE VAN

Rod and Cam peer over the seat. Watching.

CAM

I say we drive outta here real slow.

Pretty soon this place is gonna be crawling with pigs.

ROD

(looks at her)

You watch a lot of old movies, don’t you?

She shoots him a look. Raises her gun.

Crooked smile.

CAM

(low)

You've got to ask yourself one question, punk.

(CLICKS the safety)

Do I feel lucky?

***

Drive Like Thunder, Crash Like Lightning

In a Saturdaze today. Welcome back to my dark, little corner of cyberspace. Hope you enjoy the ride.

Apologies to all of you who have posted comments. I'm still kinda new to this, and just learned that I have to 'moderate' them. So I fucking did. They're now posted. Thanks loads. Keep 'em coming ...

Screened ROUNDERS last night. Forgot how good that one was. Can't go wrong with Ed Norton (sleaze version) and Matt Damon (in wimp mode, sorta). Add John Malkovich as a vicious, Russian mob boss/card sharp, stir in a little Famke Jansen for flavor, and you have a meal fit for the Word Series of Poker. Deal me in. Double down. Raise the stakes.

Onto today's scene from GUN-WILD. Love car chases. Love to see 'em, love to write 'em. Especially love to figure out something that hasn't been done before.

How about a giant Winnebago, pursued by the cops -- crashing through the crowd on the Venice Boardwalk?

In my dreams ...

***

INT. WINNEBAGO - AT THAT MOMENT
Rod dashes over the driver’s seat. GUNS the engine.

CAM
Go slow. We’re just a couple of tourists,
leaving the beach after a nice day.

ROD
(turns the wheel, hits the gas)
Yeah. With two dead bodies,
a hostage, and a tub full of bloody cash.

EXT. VENICE BEACH - PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS
The behemoth slowly pulls out of the parking lot.

UP AHEAD
A POLICE CRUISER comes roaring straight at them.
Cherry top FLASHING. Siren SCREAMING.
WHOOP-WHOOP-WHOOP.

IN THE WINNEBAGO
Cam grips the back of the seat.

CAM
Fucking COPS!

Rod turns right, onto the boardwalk.

ROD
Hold onto your tits --

CAM
Ohmigod, NO.
Not on the fucking BOARDWALK!

ROD
You wanna go to fucking JAIL?

He PUNCHES the gas.

Music EXPLODES.
The rockabilly swing of The Brian Setzer Orchestra’s
DRIVE LIKE LIGHTNING (CRASH LIKE THUNDER) over --

THE WINNEBAGO
Takes off like rocket, PLOWS into the crowd.
People SCREAM, JUMP out of the way.
It SMASHES into a vendor’s TABLE.
Cheap, shitty jewelry FLIES in the air.

THE POLICE CRUISER
Turns left. Follows them. Picks up speed.

POLICE OFFICER (O.C.)
(electronic)
YOU, in the RV -- STOP, NOW!

IN THE WINNEBAGO
Cam looks in the rearview.

CAM
They’re FOLLOWING US.

Asian Art Dealer SCREAMS.

CAM (CONT’D)
SHUT UP, fucking CHINK!

ASIAN ART VENDOR
I’m Japanese, not CHINESE.
We don’t LOOK ALIKE.

CAM
Yes YOU DO, motherfucker!

THE WINNEBAGO
SWERVES. Careens into a SIDEWALK CAFE.
PLOWS into tables. CRASH.
Patrons LEAP out of their seats.
JUMP out of the way.

IN THE WINNEBAGO
Rod looks at Cam.

ROD
Hold on tight. I got an idea.

He STOMPS on the brakes.

ON THE BOARDWALK
The Winnebago SCREECHES to a halt.
The police cruiser SMASHES into the rear end.
CRASH. The hood CRUMPLES.

IN THE WINNEBAGO
Rod turns left, pulls into an alley between buildings.

BOBBY AND TAYA
Come running up the boardwalk toward us, weapons drawn.
They race up to the ruined cruiser.

BOBBY
You okay?

IRATE COP
Yeah. FUCK-HEADS.
(points)
They went down that alley. Big fucking RV.

BOBBY
Okay, got it.
(to Taya)
C’mon --

And they race toward the alley.

IN THE ALLEY
The Winnebago turns right onto Speedway,
a narrow street which runs behind the boardwalk.

IN THE WINNEBAGO
Rod downshifts. Slows down a bit.

ROD
Okay, where do we go, where do we go.

CAM
Turn left, into that alley.

THE WINNEBAGO
Turns left. Lumbers through an alley
between walkway streets. A tight squeeze.
It pulls over. Stops.

The song ENDS.

IN THE WINNEBAGO
Rod turns. Looks at Cam.

ROD
Okay, what now?

CAM
We grab the money, go jack new wheels.

ROD
The money’s floating in the tub, doll.

CAM
Then you watch Egg Foo Young here,
and I’ll go wrap it up in a towel.

She gets out of her seat.
Moves toward the rear of the bus.

ASIAN ART DEALER
Sits in his seat. Trembling with anger. Glares at her.

ASIAN ART VENDOR
Egg Foo Young is CHINESE FOOD.
NOT Japanese.

Cam comes up to him.
Places her gun against his head.

CAM
You’re confusing me with someone who gives a fuck.
(CLICKS the safety)
Go ahead. Give me a reason.

ROD
CAM. Stop fucking around.

CAM
(lowers her gun, to Asian)
This is your lucky day, Grasshopper.
(strokes the barrel)
Me love you LONG time.

***

The Home of the Homeless

Hello, Friday. Hello, martinis. Greetings, saw-off shotgun. Doing anything tonight? Lookin for a ... target?

Screened a little film called 44 MINUTES last night. It's about that famous bank robbery in North Hollywood back in '97 where two masked, kevla-jacketed gunmen held off over 100 cops with submachines guns over the course of one, long, hot day. (The filmmakers truncated it for the movie.) Nice to see Michael Madson and Ron Livingston shoot the shit out a pair of Eastern European lunkheads. A bit shmaltzy with the brief snippets of talking heads discussing why they're 'on the force,' and what 'family' the job is. Great sentiments ... when done well. Not here. Still, it was delirious to see so much shooting. Go ahead, make day. Get of my lawn.

Onto today's joint from GUN-WILD. It's your luck day -- a two-fer. Well, both scenes are kinda short, so I squashed 'em together.

Part 1

Officers Teen and Rawls have a slice.

Cruise hot babes on the boardwalk.

Then hear gunshots.

Race toward the scene of the crime.

Part 2

Rod and Cam, about to make their getaway,

take on an unexpected passenger...

***

EXT. VENICE BOARDWALK - AT THAT MOMENT

Bobby and Taya eat slices of pizza.

Bobby’s got his folded in half lengthwise.

Taya eats hers off a paper plate.

They walk by a grizzled group of HIPPIES

playing bad music for a sidewalk cafe.

The patrons could give a shit.

The hippies are oblivious,

living their Grateful Dead dreams.

BOBBY

That’s what I like about Venice.

Fucking time warp.

(points)

Check out Jerry Garcia over there.

TAYA

(looks, frowns)

I can smell him from here.

BOBBY

Welcome to ‘The home of the homeless.’

TAYA

(chuckles)

You’re terrible.

They continue walking.

Pass a group of HIGH SCHOOL GIRLS.

BOBBY

Armenian bastard was right.

They DO all look alike --

(beat)

Jailbait HOOKERS.

A BUFF ISRAELI SHOPKEEPER (30)

Runs up to them.

BUFF ISRAELI SHOPKEEPER

Officers, officers! Did you hear the gunshots?

BOBBY

GUNSHOTS? Where?

TAYA

How did you know we were --

BUFF ISRAELI SHOPKEEPER

(points)

In the parking lot. Over that way --

(to Taya)

Your shoes. Dead giveaway.

BOBBY

Thanks.

(to Taya)

COME ON.

They pull out their guns. Start RUNNING.

TAYA

I’m getting fucking SNEAKERS.

INT. WINNEBAGO - AT THAT MOMENT

Cam and Rod stand near the door.

Guns drawn. Listening to the POUNDING on the door.

ACCENTED MALE VOICE (O.C.)

Hey! Are you alright in there?

ROD

Go get the door. Tell him the engine backfired.

CAM

I got an idea.

She pulls off her T-shirt. Big grin.

ROD

You’re a genius.

Cam goes to the door. OPENS IT.

OUTSIDE THE WINNEBAGO

Stands an ASIAN ART VENDOR (30’s).

Small, squirrely. Glasses.

ASIAN ART VENDOR

(sees Cam, stares)

Oh. Hello.

CAM

(brightly)

Hey, there. What’s up?

ASIAN ART VENDOR

(eyes wide)

I heard -- gunshots. Are you -- okay?

CAM

Gunshots? Those weren’t gunshots.

The engine backfired.

ASIAN ART VENDOR

No -- I heard gunshots.

(staring)

I called -- 911.

Rod appears in the doorway.

With a sawed-off shotgun.

ROD

Get in the fucking BUS, NOW.

ASIAN ART VENDOR

(scared, confused, turned on)

But I don’t -- understand.

Cam reaches over. GRABS his arm.

YANKS him inside.

CAM

Sorry -- no tickie.

INSIDE THE WINNEBAGO

Cam holds her gun against Asian’s head.

He’s shaking.

CAM

(points to the dining nook)

Over there, SIT.

Asian does. Scared shitless.

ASIAN ART VENDOR

Please, don’t hurt me.

I was only trying to HELP.

CAM

Shut the FUCK up.

(to Rod)

We gotta get the fuck out of here, NOW.

ROD

What are we gonna do about HIM?

CAM

We’ll figure that out later.

C’MON, we gotta get OUTTA HERE.

Rod dashes over the driver’s seat. GUNS the engine.

CAM (CONT’D)

Go slow. We’re just a couple of tourists,

leaving the beach after a nice day.

ROD

(turns the wheel, hits the gas)

Yeah. With two dead bodies,

a hostage, and a tub full of bloody cash.

***

Blood on the Cash

Happy, happy -- hardboiled afficionados. Thanks for returning to the scene of the crime. Time to curl up and relax, put your feet up, and click your gun on safety ...

Today I'd like to give a shout-out to my esteemed collegue Paul David Brazill, a new crime writer in the blogosphere. Quite good, and prolific, too. Has stories on more than a few crime websites. You can check out his stories on his TWO blogs at ...

http://pdbrazill.blogspot.com/ ... http://pauldbrazill.blogspot.com/

And be sure and tell 'em I sent you.

Screened POINT BREAK last night. What delirious, trippy, exciting fun. Keanu's first big flick. Great to see Patrick Swayze looking so healthy and fit. Not to mention Gary Busey, pre-motorcycle head trama. Look! He's almost normal. Lori Petty is great, too. Not hot enough for my taste, but what the fuck. Katheryn Bigelow makes interesting choices, and it's nice to see a babe of a different stripe. Made it more realistic. And ... if you look closely ... there's Anthony Keidis from the Red Hot Chili Peppers as a Nazi surf punk gang member. Good times were had by all.

Okay. Onto today's scene. And it's a doozy.

The exciting conclusion to the heister's party/orgy from hell. Drugs have been shot, popped and smoked. Pussies have been eaten. Dicks have been sucked. And, right about now ... the shit is about to hit the bloody fan.

***

INT. WINNEBAGO - UPSTAIRS BEDROOM - AT THAT MOMENT

The joint has become a true opium den.

Windows blacked out. Debris scattered around.

Some Buddha Lounge chill thumps softly in the haze.

A lone candle flickers in the shadows.

Net lays next to Cam, snuggling.

Cam is out cold, a dreamy smile on her lips.

Net strokes her hair, softly humming.

Rod lays at the end of the bed, face up.

Hondo’s on his knees beside him -- giving Rod head.

Slowly, up and down. Up and down. In heaven.

Net puts her arm around Cam’s waist.

SQUEEZES tight.

NET

Mmmmmm.

CAM

(awakens)

OW.

(looks)

HEY. Get the fuck OFF ME.

She WHIPS Net’s arm away.

NET

What? What’s wrong?

CAM

(awake now)

FUCKING DYKE.

Rod stirs from his opium-laced reverie.

Sees what Hondo is doing. FREAKS OUT.

THROWS Hondo off of him. PUNCHES him.

Hondo HITS the floor with a CRACK.

HONDO

HEY!

ROD

What the FUCK do you think you’re DOING?

HONDO

(smiles)

You seemed to like it --

CAM

(looks)

What’s the fuck’s GOING ON?

HONDO

(to Cam)

He was fucking BLOWING ME!

Cam SCREAMS. GRABS her gun.

Takes aim. SHOOTS Hondo in the chest, BANG.

A red stain starts growing on his t-shirt.

HONDO (CONT’D)

You SHOT ME. Fucking BITCH!

NET

HONDO!

Net races over to him. Cam fires again. BANG.

In the neck. Blood starts SPRAYING.

Net tries to stop it with her hands.

CAM

That’ll teach you to mess with MY MAN.

ROD

CAM? WHAT THE FUCK!?

NET

(looks at Cam)

You fucking CUNT! You SHOT HIM!

CAM

Those are your last words --

(SHOOTS HER)

Bitch.

Net falls over. THWUNK. Shot in the head.

The arc of blood from Hondo’s neck FLIES OUT --

onto the open bag of money.

ROD

Jesus fucking Christ, Cam. Jesus fucking CHRIST.

Look what you did. We’re FUCKED. FUCKED.

(beat)

Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod.

Cam stares at the bodies.

A strange look in her eyes.

CAM

(a whisper)

Shot his head -- clean off.

ROD

(sees)

Oh, SHIT. FUCK. The money!

He LEAPS out of bed. Grabs the case.

Takes it into --

THE BATHROOM

Where he THROWS it in the bathtub.

TURNS ON the water, starts filling the tub.

He RACES back into --

THE BEDROOM

Where Cam stands over the bodies. Fondling the gun.

Rod comes up behind her. Looks.

CAM

(spooky)

Where’d you go, honey?

ROD

We gotta clean the money. It’s covered in BLOOD.

CAM

You mad at me?

Pause.

ROD

No, I’m not mad at you.

(sighs)

We’ve gotta figure out what

we’re gonna do with the bodies --

(thinks)

First we need to get the fuck outta here.

Someone must of heard the gun shots.

We hear a loud KNOCKING on the door downstairs.

Something inside Cam CLICKS back on.

She turns, looks at Rod.

CAM

Don’t worry, honey. I’ll take care of it.

PUSH IN ON Rod.

Scared shitless.

ROD

That’s what I’m afraid of.

***

To Protect and Serve

Greetings, blogsters. Hope you're getting your groove on in cyberspace. Don't mind me. I'm the one with the high-powered sniperscope ... watching you from the roof of the building across the street.

Screened THE FAST AND THE FURIOUS last night for the first time. Didn't appeal to me when it first came out, but things change. Talk about about big, stupid, dumb fun. TERRIBLE script, but it doesn't matter. WOODEN acting. So fucking what. It's an ode to fast cars, dumb violence, sleazy chicks in tight jeans ... and really bad extras. I guess sometimes when you're working hard and living life to the fullest ... you just wanna settle in with a couple of beers and watch something totally mindless.

Vin Deisel. 'The new action hero.' Multi-cultural. Ugly, but suave.

Doesn't bother me ... but the masses couldn't figure out ... the dude is gay?

Love it. Guess we get the last laugh sometimes.

Onto today's scene from GUN-WILD. Before we get to the big, bloody finale of the heister party in the Winnebago, we cut to our intrepid Robbery/Homicide detectives, who are right nearby. Seems that some of the money in the drawer of the bank was marked, and Cam just happened to spend a C-note at local convenience store.

Just HAD to get those brewskies and pork rinds ...

***

EXT. VENICE BOARDWALK - CONVENIENCE STORE - AT THAT MOMENT

A tiny, sleepy joint. LOCALS shuffle by STREET VENDORS.

A pair of HOMELESS KIDS hold up a sign:

FUCK MILK. GOT POT?

INT. CONVENIENCE STORE - CONTINUOUS

Detectives Bobby Teen and Taya Ralls speak with

the STORE OWNER (50’s), a wiry, angry-looking Armenian.

ARMENIAN STORE OWNER

You mean to tell me I’m out a hundred bucks?

BOBBY

(holds up the bill)

I’m sorry, but it’s evidence.

He zips it into a glassine bag.

Puts it in his pocket.

ARMENIAN STORE OWNER

But that’s my MONEY.

TAYA

I’m sorry, sir. It’s standard procedure.

You’ll get it back.

ARMENIAN STORE OWNER

Yeah, right -- it’ll get put in some fucking evidence locker,

and will get mysteriously LOST.

BOBBY

EXCUSE ME?

TAYA

Could you describe the young woman who spent the bill?

ARMENIAN STORE OWNER

She was a young girl, early 20’s.

Boardwalk’s full of ‘em. They all look alike.

Blonde. T-shirt and jeans. Flip-flops.

BOBBY

(squinting at something on the wall)

That your license to sell beer and wine?

ARMENIAN STORE OWNER

Uh -- yeah.

BOBBY

Boy, I’d bet business would go WAY down

if you couldn’t sell Colt 45 and Thunderbird.

Pause.

ARMENIAN STORE OWNER

She was kinda strange. Kept giggling to herself.

Bought all kinds of junk food, and a ton of beer and wine.

Surprised she could carry it all.

TAYA

Was she wearing a baseball cap?

ARMENIAN STORE OWNER

Yeah. Yankees cap.

Don’t see them that much around here,

come to think of it.

BOBBY

What about her T-shirt?

ARMENIAN STORE OWNER

Some band shirt. My Life With --

TAYA

My life with?

ARMENIAN STORE OWNER

Some cult.

BOBBY

A cult? But you said it was a band --

ARMENIAN STORE OWNER

The Thrill Kill Kult. That’s it.

My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult.

With a cartoon of a -- stripper or something.

Dominatrix shit.

Bobby and Taya exchange glances.

BOBBY

Thank you very much. You’ve been most helpful.

TAYA

Don’t worry about the money.

I promise we’ll have it dusted for prints

and mailed to you in a couple of days.

ARMENIAN STORE OWNER

(still pissed)

Okay.

Bobby and Taya amble outside onto --

THE BOARDWALK

Bobby pulls out the bag.

Takes out the hundred. Smiles.

TAYA

What are you doing? That’s evidence.

BOBBY

(waves it at her)

Already dusted for prints.

C’mon, let’s go grab a slice

to eat while we canvas the area.

I know a great place right down the street.

TAYA

(smiles)

You’re evil.

BOBBY

To protect and serve -- ourselves.

***

Cold Blue Steel

Greetings, fans. I'm so grateful you're here. Both of you. Love you. Mean it. Don't ever change.

Had a great lunch meeting with a new co-conspirator. Can't give away any details yet, but it looks like I'm gonna be hired to writer on his new project. Can you say 'totally stoked?' 'Dude?' What makes it even more amazing is this someone I'd love to be friends with. Nice, funny, twisted, elegant -- a true bon vivant, with tons of great stories.

Later on tonight I might just even do the twist.

Onto today's installment of GUN-WILD. And this one's a doozy.

When we last left the four-way, bisexual heister drug and cash party out of bounds, the gang had just shot up speedballs ... and Hondo and Cam had retreated to the upstairs lair in the Winnebago for a little slap and tickle.

Well, tickle doesn't BEGIN to cover it ...

***

INT. WINNEBAGO - UPSTAIRS BEDROOM - AT THAT MOMENT
Circular stairs lead up to the second level bedroom.

Plush and ornate. Plasma-screen. Wet bar.

The stereo softly thumps some trippy world-beat like Thievery Corporation.

Cam lays back on the bed against the pillows on one side of the bed.

Rod sits on the other side. Sips a drink.

ROD
But I don’t understand.

CAM
I said, no touching.

ROD
So, what -- you want me to watch you -- ?

CAM
(dreamy)
I like to watch --

ROD
Watch you -- play with yourself?

CAM
First -- the money.

ROD
What do you wanna do with the money?

CAM
Wanna -- fuck the money.
(sips her drink)
Throw some on the bed, willya?

Rod puts his drink down. Leans over,

takes a couple of fistfuls of bills from the bag on the floor.

ROD
You’re crazy --

He THROWS the cash on the bed.

It flutters down over Cam.

CAM
(giggles)
More, more, MORE.

She picks the gun up off the bedside table.

Starts rubbing it on her crotch.

Rod THROWS more money on her.

CAM (CONT’D)
Yeah, that’s it -- that’s it --

She grabs some with her other hand.

Rubs it on her chest.

CAM (CONT’D)
Hot dollars --

ROD
Fuck. Turning ME on --

He reaches into his boxer shorts.

Starts touching himself.

CAM
You like that, baby?

ROD
You’re so -- fucking hot.

CAM
Gun-wild, lover. Gun-wild.

She maneuvers the pistol.

Slides the barrel inside.

CAM (CONT’D)
(closes her eyes)
Ohmigod -- ommigod -- ohmigod.

ROD
Holy shit.

CAM
I’m gonna, I’m gonna --

Her body shudders. She MOANS.

Finally finding release.
Rod SHOOTS a load in his shorts.

We hear FOOTSTEPS coming up the stairs.

A soft knock-knock.

HONDO (O.C.)
Greetings, love birds.

HONDO
Appears in the doorway.

Net, shyly hides behind him. WASTED.

HONDO (CONT’D)
I brought a peace offering.
(holds up a pipe)
Black opium. Total chill.
(smiles)
Party out of bounds.

Cam’s eyes open. She looks at Hondo.

What the -- ?

ROD

Opium? I didn’t you know had --

HONDO
Secret stash. For emergencies.

CAM
(dreamy)
Never did -- opium.

NET
It’s -- beautiful.
(raises her hands)
Beautiful.

HONDO
(sees the money)
Why’s all the cash on the gash?

CAM
Reindeer games, baby.

ROD
She’s a little -- kinky.

HONDO
Tell me something I DIDN’T know.

He smiles. Comes over to the bed.

Sits at the end. Net joins him. He lights the pipe.

Takes a big hit. Holds it in.

Leans over. Hands it to Cam.

EXHALES.

HONDO (CONT’D)
Get ready to see God --

CAM
(takes the pipe)
Just saw her, baby.
(dreamy)
Just saw her.
(beat)
And she made me come --
(beat)
With cold blue steel.

She slides the pipe between her lips.

Flicks her Bic --

And TAKES A BIG HIT.

***

Portrait of the Damned

Happy Monday, crime fans. Welcome back to the dreary, 9-to-5 work week. Not.

Screened Alex Proyas' DARK CITY last night. Eerie. Strange. Totally goth. Really underrated. Rufus Sewell was great -- but Willam Hurt and Jennifer Connolly steal the flick right out from under him. Amazing effects, blow-mind art direction. Not great cinema, but a lot of pitch-black fun.

Gorgeous day here at the beach. 85 degrees . Like fucking summer. Was really hard to get going today, especially with the computer problems I've been having. But I got it done. Four steaming pages of sin. I like to be a couple of scenes ahead of where we are in the story, just in case.

We're now toward the middle of the big four-way sex sequence -- the act two turning point in the story for our misguided heisters. And when the smoke clears, there'll be hell to pay. Not to mention a mortician.

Onto part two. Hondo and Net have their 'first fight.'

A Hallmark moment ... especially for drugged-out, murderous bank robbers.

It's short. And not sweet ...

***

INT. BEDROOM - MOMENTS LATER

Hondo lies in bed with Net. Touches her bare leg.

She SLAPS his hand away.

Pulls out a joint. Lights it.

NET

Keep your hands off me -- faggot.

HONDO

(laughs)

Who you calling a faggot?

NET

You wanna fuck him -- instead of me.

HONDO

You got that wrong, darlin’ --

I wanna fuck BOTH of you.

(beat)

You said you were a swinger.

NET

A straight swinger, asshole -- not fucking GAY.

HONDO

What? You never orgied?

NET

Yeah, but where I come from,

guys fuck girls, and girls fuck girls,

but no GUYS fuck GUYS.

HONDO

That’s right, I forgot -- you’re from Texas.

NET

What the fuck is THAT supposed to mean?

She grabs a bottle of tequila on the bed stand.

CHUGS it.

HONDO

You know you might be a redneck, IF --

NET

ASSHOLE!

Net THROWS the bottle at him. He DUCKS.

It SMASHES against the wall -- CRASH.

HONDO

BABY!

(grabs her)

I’m SORRY.

NET

(shrieks)

What the FUCK?

She starts crying. Sobbing.

He strokes her hair.

HONDO

I’m sorry, baby -- I’m sorry.

I was just playin’ with you --

(beat)

We’re fucked up -- you know?

I’m SORRY.

NET

(tears subside)

Kay --

HONDO

What can I do to make it up to you?

What would make my little bank robber happy?

Net pulls away. Nasty smile. Eyes burning.

NET

You can fix me a Cam sandwich.

***

Shooting Blanks

Sunday. A day of rest. For some. Not this chick. I admittedly got a late start today (hey -- it was 80 degrees out. Waves were bitchin').

Screened Katherine Bigelow's STRANGE DAYS last night. Whoah. Time capsule back to the early 90's. Can you say 'cheesy sleazy nightclub scene?' Back when Marilyn Manson was still shocking. But still, Juliet Lewis was gnarly as a a fucked-up alterna-babe punkette on stage singing her tits off. Add to that a very young Angela Bassett, all butch and sexy as the only limo driver in postapocolyptic, burning Manhattan. And check out those cut arms. Hoo. Ralph Fiennes is appropriately unshaven and slimy, and what 90's crimer be complete without Michael Wincott?

Had to wipe off the screen afterwards. It's ridiculous, over-long, far-fetched, uber-violent ...

And a hell of a lot of fun.

Onto our next sequence from GUN-WILD.

When last saw our heisters, they were just about to get jacked up on speedballs. Having the party from hell on the RV at the beach.

Let's return the party. Part two of several. (What we call the pivotal mid-point -- that sends the story spinning in another direction.)

***

INT. WINNNEBAGO - AT THAT MOMENT

Psycho-rockabilly AT FULL VOLUME:

Horropops’ THELMA & LOUISE.

Rod and Hondo sit on the couch, high as fucking kites.

Cam and Net do a frenzied go-go dance on the coffee table.

Net’s topless, shaking with abandon, gun in hand.

NET

(sings)

Just like, Thelma and Loooo-uise --

Cam takes a swig from a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Reaches around, UNSNAPS her halter top.

It FLIES OFF.

She SHAKES HER BOOBS in time with Net.

CAM

Faster, pussycat!

HONDO

BOOBAGE! Shake it, sunset girl!

Net sees. Smiles.

GRABS Cam’s boobs with both hands.

NET

HONK-HONK!

CAM

HEY!

She SLAPS Net’s hands away.

NET

Oooh, touchy --

HONDO

Touchy-FEELY.

ROD

(stands)

Hey, baby -- wanna dance?

He goes to Cam. Takes her hand.

She JUMPS off the table.

Dances like a maniac.

Shakes her boobs in his face.

Hondo comes up behind Rod.

GRABS his ass with both hands.

Rod WHIRLS AROUND --

and SLAPS him in the face.

ROD (CONT’D)

BACK OFF.

HONDO

(rubs his cheek, smiles)

Dude. Why so uptight?

Just fuckin’ with ya.

ROD

The only FUCKING I do is with CHICKS --

GOT IT?

HONDO

(raises his hands)

Chill, bro -- chill.

Hondo goes to Net, still dancing on the table,

eyes closed, blissed out.

GRABS her hand,

PULLS her down with a YANK --

bare feet SLAP the floor.

NET

OW!

Hondo picks her up.

HONDO

C’mon, hot stuff -- private party.

(looks at Rod)

No prudes allowed.

(laughs)

Pussy to go --

And he carries her off to the back bedroom,

Net SQUEALING.

Rod watches them. Turns to Cam.

Puts his arms around her.

CAM

What are you -- doing?

ROD

Give you any ideas?

Cam pulls out her gun.

Aims it at his crotch.

CAM

Let’s go upstairs -- play a game.

ROD

(pushes it away)

Whoah. Careful. That’s the family jewels.

Cam smiles. Rubs the gun against her crotch.

NET

Maybe this is better. Longer. Stiffer.

(meaningfully)

Never shoots blanks --

ROD

Kinky girl. So that’s the way you want to play it?

Cam leers. Holds the gun barrel against her lips.

Licks it.

NET

Let’s go upstairs and find out.

***

Dropping Loads

Happy Saturday, weekend warriors. Hope your day has been as productive as mine.

There's something about writing a sex scene that gets me all worked up. The language of love sets the heart aflutter. Gets the heart racing. Aroused. Hot and bothered.

Hold on a sec.

(Inhales. Blows a smoke ring.)

Okay. I'm back.

Onto today's scene. Where we last left Robbery/Homicide detectives Bobby Ruff and Taya Ralls, they left Chez Jay after pounding 151 rum shots for a little roll in the hay.

Ladies and gentlemen, let the games begin ...

***

EXT. PICO BOULEVARD - SLEAZY MOTEL - AT THAT MOMENT

‘The International.’ Flags from around the world

painted on a cinder block bunker.

Behind a gas station in The Hood.

Bobby and Taya’s car is parked at the end of the gravel lot.

INT. - MOTEL ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Bobby lies on top of Taya on a giant heart-shaped bed.

PUMPING away. Taya MOANS in ecstacy.

TAYA

That’s it, FUCK ME, white boy!

BOBBY

You like it, don’t you, BROWN SUGAR?

TAYA

YES! YES!

BOBBY

Who’s your daddy NOW?!

TAYA

FUCK me, DADDY -- ride me, HARD.

BOBBY

I’m gonna SHOOT MY LOAD.

TAYA

GOD, YES -- YES --

BOBBY

Dropping LOADS --

TAYA

Fill me UP, BABY --

BOBBY

FUCK ME baby JESUS!

TAYA

AHHHHHHHHHH!

BOBBY

YEEEEAHHHHHH!

They climax in an earth-shattering crescendo of pleasure.

Hold each other for dear life.

SCREAMING with passion.

Silence.

He rolls off her. Leans over. Lights a smoke.

BOBBY (CONT'D)

Goddammit, woman.

TAYA

(out of breath)

I haven’t come like that --

(looks)

Light me one too?

He does. Hands it to her.

She takes a puff. Thinking.

TAYA (CONT’D)

What the fuck is Brown Sugar?

BOBBY

Rolling Stones song.

(inhales)

You don’t know it?

TAYA

I’m twenty-five.

BOBBY

Oh, right.

(beat)

It’s a compliment. Trust me.

(sings)

I’m no schoolboy, but I know what I like.

He looks at her. Shy. Eyes full of wonder.

BOBBY (CONT’D)

I’ve never done -- sex talk like that before.

TAYA

You mean the racial stereotype stuff?

BOBBY

Yeah.

(beat)

Fucking hot.

TAYA

(smiles)

If you’re good, next time I’ll let you use the N-word.

(beat)

Fuck me baby Jesus?

BOBBY

(shrugs)

Catholic upringing.

(looks at her)

Guilt makes me hard.

Bobby’s cell phone rings.

He reaches over, grabs it.

BOBBY (CONT'D)

(into the phone)

Ruff here.

(listens)

You’re shitting me.

(listens)

Of course, sure.

(listens)

We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.

(listens)

Uh -- we were just -- grabbing a bite to eat.

A woman’s voices SHRIEKS from the room next door.

A bullwhip CRACKS. Another SCREAM.

BOBBY (CONT’D)

Of course not, no.

(listens)

Food’s really spicy.

(listens)

Yeah, right. In your hat. See you soon.

He hangs up. LEAPS out of bed.

BOBBY (CONT’D)

That was the chief. Great news.

One of the bills from the bank

was spent at Venice Beach.

TAYA

Marked?

BOBBY

Yeah. Amateur hour.

Pros know not to take what’s in the drawer.

TAYA

(starts getting dressed)

So we got ourselves some cowboys.

BOBBY

(pulls on his jeans)

Yeah, and unfortunately,

those are the most dangerous kind.

TAYA

(snaps on her shoulder holster)

Then let’s wrastle us some varmits --

(slides in her gun, wicked smile)

And then we can do some more ropin’ and ridin.’

***

The Rolling Stoned

Happy Friday. Thank Guns It's Friday. What the fuck. Let's party. Is that a pistol in your pocket?

Or are you just ... ?

Screened PANIC ROOM for the first time last night. HOLY SHIT was that movie exciting. Great supporting cast, too. Forest Whitaker, Jared Leto -- and what the fuck, Dwight Yoakam? His sleazy sociopath almost steals the movie. Almost. David Fincher can elevate the simplest formula like this to new heights. Definite two glocks up. Wanna see it again.

Onto today's installment from GUN-WILD.

When we last left our heisters, they were partying on wheels in a deluxe RV. Well, they've landed at Venice Beach, and are getting ready to rock the night away.

I mean, if you had just boosted over 200 grand in cash, wouldn't you wanna party?

***

EXT. VENICE BEACH - PARKING LOT - AT THAT MOMENT

The Winnebago is parked in a small lot near the boardwalk.

A handful of decrepit, hand-painted HIPPIE RV’S sit, gathering dust.

JESUS WAS HOMELESS proclaims a former school bus.

INT. WINNEBAGO - CONTINUOUS

A sleazy, go-go groove courtesy of

My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult

bumps and grinds on the stereo.

The blinds are drawn.

Hondo chops up a big mound of white powder

on the coffee table with a credit card.

The bag of money lies at his feet.

HONDO

Ready to go to Magic Mountain?

Net does the twist, slides over to the table,

resplendent in bra and panties,

sloshing her tumbler of whiskey.

NET

Definite E-ticket, baby.

Hondo hands her a rolled-up C-note.

She bends down, SNARFS up a big fat line.

He SMACKS her on the ass.

NET (CONT'D)

(giggles)

OW.

(rubs her nose)

It BURNS.

HONDO

Pharmaceutical-grade crystal methedrine, doll.

Gonna twist your tits GOOD.

NET

That’s fucking SPEED?

HONDO

Just until we score some more booger sugar.

Emergency K-rations.

NET

Fucking meth --

(has brilliant idea)

Let’s do a SPEEDBALL.

ROD AND CAM

Walk into frame with their drinks.

Both completely lit.

Cam’s gun sticks out of her waistband.

ROD

Did I hear the word speedball?

HONDO

I didn’t know you partook in the smack-iary arts.

ROD

Once in a blue moon.

Usually I just chip --

but fuck it, it’s a special occasion.

CAM

I wanna do one, too.

Hondo pulls a black felt bag out of his jacket.

Unrolls it. Slides out a large HYPODERMIC NEEDLE.

Holds it up. Smiles.

HONDO

Friends don’t let friends share needles.

Cam sits down next to him.

Puts her hand on his knee.

NET

Who said we’re FRIENDS?

They look at each other.

SCREAM with laughter.

CAM

That’s a -- big needle.

HONDO

All the better to eat you with.

(looks at Rod)

You should see my cock.

ROD

I’ll pass.

NET

You don’t know what you’re missing.

CAM

(to Hondon and Net)

Stop hitting on my man, fuckos --

and let’s get FUCKED UP.

HONDO

Your wish is my demand.

He pours some heroin onto a spoon.

Then a little meth.

Squirts a little water on it.

Lights it with his Bic.

THE MIXTURE

In the spoon BUBBLES.

THE NEEDLE

Slides into it.

THE PLUNGER

Pulls. The shaft fills swirling white magic.

HONDO

Holds up the syringe like a surgeon.

Pulls the rubber tubing around his forearm

with his other hand. Show and tell.

HONDO (CONT’D)

(dramatic)

Ladies and gentlemen, The Rolling Stoned.

And he PUSHES the needle into his arm.

***

The Proposition

Had a very interesting day. Visited Tina the Wonder Dog's memorial. Shared some nice memories. Might just be getting the hang of this grief thing. Had a great meeting with my true story guy -- the former PI/Spy/Millioniare Almost-Mobster. Great guy. Shitload of amazing stories. Felt like I've know him for years. Fucking hilarious. Have a good feeling about this one. Gonna make GOODFELLAS look like child's play.

Okay, not really. But this one's a DOOZY.

Onto our story.

We now meet up with our intrepid robbery/homicide cops, who are coping with THEIR grief over the death of the three cops at the bank job.

See how life imitates art?

Or is that other way around ...

***

EXT. CHEZ JAY - LATE AFTERNOON

A small, crusty beach dive just south of the Santa Monica pier.

We see Bobby and Taya’s sedan parked in the gravel lot.

INT. CHEZ JAY - CONTINUOUS

Dark, dank. Sawdust on the floor.

The kind of place where serious drinking gets done.

Food’s not bad, either.

A pair of GRIZZLED REGULARS

sit at the bar living their liquid lives.

A ball game plays softly over the bar.

The jukebox plays some forgotten, gin-soaked classic.

Bobby and Taya sit at stools at the end.

He drains a bottle of beer.

Points at it, then the empty shot glass.

BOBBY

(to the bartender)

Another round?

(looks at Taya)

You okay?

Taya eyes him warily, sips her Diet Coke.

TAYA

I’m fine, thanks.

The SMUG BARTENDER (40’s)

brings over another shot and beer.

Places them in front of Bobby.

SMUG BARTENDER

Here you go, officer.

Bobby eyes him coolly.

SLAMS down the shot.

Sips the beer.

BOBBY

Is that a cockroach over there by the sink?

(shakes his head)

Be a shame to lose that ‘C’ rating --

SMUG BARTENDER

Tell it to the owner. I’m just a mixologist.

He turns around and starts washing glasses.

BOBBY

Three officers were KILLED today.

And I don’t appreciate your ATTITUDE, pal.

TAYA

Bobby --

BOBBY

Shut up. Drink your fucking COKE.

SMUG BARTENDER

(turns, stares)

THREE cops were killed?

BOBBY

Yeah, fucking bank job right down the street.

Don’t you watch the news?

SMUG BARTENDER

Fuck, no. Too depressing.

I just watch the game.

Pause.

TAYA

There’s another shooting on the news every day --

BOBBY

Economy’s in the fucking toilet.

Santa Monica used to be SAFE,

and now we’ve got these --

heathens running RIOT on my home turf.

Fucking cops are DEAD.

Taya looks down. A tear slides down her cheek.

TAYA

My parents were shot --

(starts to lose it)

Home invasion --

BOBBY

Holy shit.

She looks up. Eyes glistening.

TAYA

Reason I joined the force.

(half smile)

Quit law school --

BOBBY

(to Smug)

How about a little rum in the lady’s coke,

my good man.

Smug pulls down a bottle of 151.

Holds it over Taya’s glass like a question.

She nods. He pours.

Then another shot for Bobby.

One for himself. Raises it.

SMUG BARTENDER

This one’s on the house.

They toast. Drink.

Taya winces. Hers is STRONG.

BOBBY

(to Taya)

We’re gonna get these fuckers,

if it’s the last thing I do.

You with me?

TAYA

Fuck, yeah.

He leans over. Kisses her on the cheek.

TAYA (CONT’D)

(surprised she likes it)

What was -- that for?

BOBBY

I dunno. Felt like it.

(beat)

You’re kinda cute when you’re distraught.

(off her stare)

Okay, I’m drunk.

Taya takes a big slug of her drink.

SLAMS it down on the bar.

TAYA

So let’s get a fucking room.

SMUG BARTENDER

(turns around)

I’m not hearing this --

BOBBY

What the fuck?

TAYA

You wanted to ball me the first moment

you laid your eyes on me.

BOBBY

(turning red)

You’re crazy.

Taya stands. Puts her purse over her shoulder.

TAYA

You coming?

***

LEGS: The Big Hangover

While I'm outlining and writing the next sequence for GUN-WILD, I thought you might like to take a little trip with me back to my early work.

LEGS is my second screenplay, writte about ten years ago. My first, SPIRAL, was a true story that I worked on with the person who's story it was -- it about his freindship with Savannah, the world-famous porn star that committed suicide. It was a great story that got a lot of attention, but it was pre-BOOGIE NIGHTS, and no one would touch it. It was full of cool stuff -- she dated Slash, Marky Mark and Pauley Shore. (Ha.) We even pitched Miramax -- for 90 minutes! But it died on the vine. The partner was a nightmare to work with -- he kept trying to rein in my imagination. Live and learn.

I wrote LEGS as a way to find my true voice. This is the origin of my hardboiled/noir/crime persona. 'Leg's is Carrie Love, a hard-drinking, chain-smoking private eye living in Venice Beach. (The inspiraion was originally Jim Rockford, which eventually morphed into Phillip Marlowe.) I ended up writing a trilogy of stories about her exploits (LEGS ... DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED ... and WILSHIRE BOULEVARD). She also appears in my media satire HIT & RUN HOLIDAY.

Needless to say, she's a great character.

Semi-autobiographical? Most certainly.

But I'm not that violent ...

Here's where we first meet her, on page 2 of LEGS ...

***

DISSOLVE TO:

A WOMAN'S FACE

Uncommonly lovely.

And a bit weathered from a trip in the fast lane.

But still, her long chestnut hair, caramel tan

and pillow lips make most men stare.

And more than a few women.

CAMERA pulls back to reveal --

INT. BEDROOM - DAWN

A brassy detective theme, ala PETER GUNN.

The first light streams in through the blinds, to reveal --

CARRIE LOVE, (27), a tall, tight drink of water

in an hourglass-shaped goblet, asleep like the dead,

sprawled across her thrashed bed.

Mouth open. A trail of spittle.

REVOLVER, a cuddly cocker spaniel sleeps at her feet.

CARRIE (V.O.)

My god, I look so peaceful.

But when I wake up, look out.

Hangover city.

(beat)

I gotta stop betting people I can out-drink them.

(beat)

'Cause I always win.

She starts coughing. Leans over.

Grabs a glass of water. Glugs it down.

Throws the covers over her.

Burrows back in.

CARRIE (V.O.)(CONT'D)

I smoke too much.

My doctor tells me the only reason

I've gotten away with it for so long

is 'cause I work out every day.

The phone RINGS.

She YANKS it off the hook.

SLAMS it down.

CARRIE (V.O.)(CONT'D)

Fucking bill collectors.

Don't they know it's Sunday?

BR-RING.

She whips off the covers, seizes the phone --

and RIPS out the cord.

CARRIE (V.O.)(CONT'D)

I've got this habit of taking out my anger on appliances.

They love me at Radio Shack.

(beat)

You shoulda seen what I did to that toaster oven.

She slowly, achingly gets out of bed.

Tries to stretch. Ouch.

We see she's still dressed from her night out.

She unzips her skirt. Peels it off. Tosses it.

CARRIE (V.O.)(CONT'D)

My name's Carrie. Carrie Love.

But everyone calls me Legs.

People say my legs are my best feature.

Comes from rollerblading ten miles a day.

(beat)

Being five foot ten doesn't hurt either.

More legs per square inch.

INT. CARRIE'S BATHROOM - CONTINUOUS

She looks at herself in the mirror.

It's not a pretty sight.

CARRIE (V.O.)

I think my best features

are my ironic smile and my rapier wit.

(beat)

But what the fuck do I know?

Most guys just stare at my boobs.

INT. CARRIE'S KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS

Carrie watches the Mr. Coffee do its thing.

CARRIE (V.O.)

Ever see those guys waiting for their methadone?

At least I get to have more than a little paper cup.

She pulls off her top, tosses it across the room --

revealing a black bra. And a leather shoulder holster.

CARRIE (V.O.) (CONT'D)

That's right. I carry a gun.

She reaches behind. Grabs her piece.

Gingerly rubs her spine.

CARRIE (V.O.) (CONT'D)

I'm a private dick.

I do Rockford Files kinda stuff, nothing dangerous.

Guys who cheat on their wives hire me to prove

their wives are cheating on them.

(beat)

I also do missing persons --

last week it was some Beverly Hills asshole

trying to find his junkie son

who swiped his Humvee.

(beat)

It pays the rent.

I've thought about bounty hunting --

I mean, that's where the real bucks are --

but I like breathing, thank you very much.

EXT. PATIO - DAY

A view of the ocean, lush with trees and flowers.

On the patio, a big, old wooden hot tub. Steam rising.

IN THE HOT TUB

is a headless female body.

Red smears the green water.

A chlorine floater bobs against an exposed breast --

with a tattoo of a hummingbird feeding off the nipple.

CARRIE (V.O.)

I'm reasonably happy.

Being a low rent dick keeps food on the table,

and I get a few cheap thrills every now and then.

(beat)

I mean, what can I say?

I grew up on Charlie's Angels.

EXT. PATIO - DOOR STOOP - DAY

Carrie squints in the sunlight,

cups her mug with both hands like it's the Holy Grail.

Revolver runs out onto the patio.

CARRIE (V.O.)

Welcome to my life.

Hope you enjoy the ride.

She sips her coffee. Looks at the ocean.

Smells the scent.

CARRIE (CONT'D)

(out loud)

Another fucking beautiful day in paradise.

The dog starts BARKING.

Carrie sees the body. SCREAMS.

Her mug hits the ground -- CRACK.

CARRIE (CONT'D)

Oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOD!

(inhales)

LAURA!

***

Four-Way Split

I'm trying to get back into the saddle today. It's been a bumpy ride, for sure. Losing a loved one is tough. So is a life of crime. So here goes ...

Screened THE WOMAN IN THE WINDOW last night, a great noir from '44 directed by Fritz Lang, featuring Edward G. Robinson as a poor schlub who gets pulled into a murder plot by femme fatale Joan Bennett (ouch), who gets blackmailed by the great Dan Duryea, who, as usual, plays a slimeball par excellance. It's a simple story, well-told, and to say anymore would give too much away. Two guns up, in my book.

So let's get back to our story. Perhaps it'll take my mind off Tina the Wonder Dog (may she rest in peace).

We next meet the gang -- Cam, Rod, Hondo and Net on the road, on the lam, in a tricked-out Winnebago, courtesy of Cam's father. Of course, he's currently in Switzerland, and has no idea what's going on.

Better buckle your seatbelts ...

***

EXT. SUNSET BOULEVARD - AT THAT MOMENT

A giant WINNEBAGO roars downhill around the swerving curves

heading west toward the beach.

INT. WINNEBAGO - MOVING - CONTINUOUS

Deluxe. The best that money can buy. Two stories. Two bedrooms.

Plasma screen. Full bar. Overstuffed furniture.

Hot and cold running pleasure. On wheels.

Nasty go-go music on the sound system.

Something naughty, saucy by My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult over --

The gang spread out in style. Rod’s behind the wheel

in a captain’s hat, stogie clamped in his mouth.

Hondo rides shotgun. Bopping his head to the music.

Smoking a giant spliff. Hands it to Rod.

HONDO

Now this is a RIDE.

ROD

(takes a hit)

It’s like driving a fucking BOAT.

Probably gets three miles to the gallon.

Behind them, Cam and Net twist and shake to the music.

HONDO

(watches the girls, to Rod)

Check it out. All we need is a pole.

NET

(giggles)

I heard that!

CAM

(sings)

She’s a hit and run heroine --

NET

(glances at the TV)

Shit! Turn the music down!

Cam’s on TV!

ROD

(turns it down)

What the fuck?

ON THE TV

We see a shot of Cam at the bank, in disguise.

Sneering. Aiming the can of spray paint at the camera.

AN ANCHOR BABE

Sits at her news desk. Faintly smiling into the camera.

ANCHOR BABE

(V.O)

Security cameras captured footage of this woman

at the scene of a robbery earlier today

at the First Fisherman’s Bank of Santa Monica --

and, apparently at another heist

earlier that morning at a nearby 7-11.

Police believe there are four people in the gang --

Net turns the sound down.

CAM

Holy shit, I’m famous.

NET

You’re infamous, baby.

She goes to the bar. Refreshing their cocktails.

ROD

(to Hondo)

We made the news already? That was fast.

HONDO

(sings)

We’re bad, we’re nationwide --

NET

(to Rod)

We need TUNAGE.

ROD

(turns it up, to Hondo)

So how much did we get?

HONDO

Ask Trigger Happy. She counted it.

NET

(hands drink to Cam)

So did you fuck that little Mexican dude?

CAM

(takes a gulp)

Are you fucking kidding me?

He was like a father to me.

ROD

(over his shoulder, to Cam)

How much did we get, hot stuff?

CAM

(raises her glass)

Two hundred-twenty-three GRAND.

ROD

Holy shit.

(to Hondo)

What’s the split?

HONDO

I get half. The three of you divide up the rest.

ROD

That’s -- over thirty thou. Nice.

HONDO

(loud, to everyone)

Whattya say we go to the beach and CELEBRATE?

CAM

I thought we were going up the coast.

HONDO

Change of plan, Hunny-Bunny.

Cops are gonna be all over the highways.

We better lay low for a bit.

NET

LAY-low -- for a BITE.

ROD

I could go for some R-and-R.

CAM

Let’s PARTY HEARTY.

Hondo holds up a bag of white powder.

Evil grin.

HONDO

Who wants gum?

***