INT. FANTASY ISLAND STRIP CLUB - NIGHT
STANDING IN A DARK CORNER
Is JOEY CHILL (27), dark-haired,
smouldering good looks.
The manager, and the owner’s son.
Cock of the walk.
(watching the stage)
Fresh off the boat.
Catch of the day.
The whip-cream, pussycat chainsaw-snarl
of Groove Coverage’s 21ST CENTURY DIGITAL GIRL.
Aerin GRABS the pole.
Wraps a long, lean thigh around it.
Moves to the music.
She’s pretty good.
And scared to death.
She closes her eyes.
The alcohol starts doing its trick.
She relaxes. Starts getting into it.
Starts singing along.
I got breast implants,
paid for by my boyfriends --
I got a Botox injection under my skin --
I only play with sex,
but I don't let them in --
And suddenly Aerin’s ON FIRE.
She WORKS it.
Undulates to the edge of the stage.
Dollar bills go FLYING.
A PIG-FACED SALESMAN
Licks his lips.
Eyes big as saucers.
Yeah, honey -- GIVE IT UP.
Unhooks her halter top.
It FLIES off.
She grabs her breasts in her hands.
Starts flicking the nipples.
Watches from the bar.
She’s a natural.
Goes to the pole.
LEAPS UP, GRABS it with her thighs.
Rides it like a horse.
KICKS a leg out --
I’m a 21st Century Digital Girl --
And she SLIPS, FALLS,
and HITS the floor with a CRACK.
She lies motionless.
Then JUMPS UP and RUNS off the stage.
AT THE BAR
The bartender leans over to Carrie.
Shakes his head.
Another one bites the dust.
You’re just jealous cause you can’t have her.
And you can?
(looks down the bar)
Don’t look now, but Dr. Phil down there
needs another Harvey Wallbanger.