Monday, August 10, 2009

I Love A Man In A Uniform

Monday getting you down? Tired of your drab, dreary nine-to-five existence? Then come on in to the only joint in town where the chicks are lux, the drinks are strong, and the hardboiled, pulp crime fiction is steaming hot. A place to get your darkest groove on ... with That Killing Feeling.

Onto today's steamin' hot slab of crime fiction for you, kiddies ... straight from HIT & RUN HOLIDAY.

First up, white slave trafficker/former Marine Bland Loosener pays a little visit to his boss, Zvi Ben-Arut, and gives him a most egregious severance package ...

Then, we see that desperate screenwriter/car jacker Friday Foster's exploits have become a big hit on YoutTube ...

And then, finally, a mysterious blonde checks into the Chateau Marmont ... with a little surprise in store.


EXT. MARINA DEL REY - OCEAN SHORELINE - NIGHT
Over the following sequence, the roiling, marshal-stomp of
The Gang of Four’s I LOVE A MAN IN A UNIFORM.

Moonlight. A LONE SURFER rides a CRASHING WAVE to shore.
We see it’s BLAND. Hang ten, dude. Rides the wave all the way in.
HOPS off the board. Starts walking.

EXT. BEACH CONDO - REAR ENTRANCE - MOMENTS LATER
Bland unscrews the faceplate to the SECURITY KEY CODE BOX.
SNIPS a wire. Takes out a lock-pick. Works it in the keyhole.

CLICK.

He pushes the door open.

IN THE ELEVATOR
riding up, Bland whistles along. Taps his toe.

AT ZVI’S FRONT DOOR
he pulls out a credit card. A long, thin screwdriver.
Works the door. It opens, click.

IN THE CORRIDOR
Bland tip-toes past expensive art. Sculptures. A MIRROR.
He stops. Looks at himself. Gives a ‘thumbs up.’ Winks.

AT A DOORWAY
he stops. Listens. We hear LOVEMAKING coming from within.
Bland carefully, slowly, leans around the doorway, sees --

ZVI
lying in bed on top of Nymphet. Making love.
She looks at the ceiling. Counting the dots in the tiles.
He CLIMAXES. A short, abrupt YELP of pleasure.
The bon vivant climbs off. Sighs. Pads over to the bathroom.

BLAND
rushes in, a BLUR OF SPEED. LEAPS in the air.
LANDS on the girl. CLAMPS a meaty hand on her mouth.
Pulls out a knife.

BLAND
Scream and your face is a Jack O'lantern.

He SLAPS duct tape on her mouth.
Smiles. Holds the knife up.
A warning. Turns. Creeps over to --

THE BATHROOM
where Zvi is taking a luxurious leak. Humming.

BLAND
WHIPS a STEEL CORD around Zvi’s neck
and GARROTS HIM. Zvi’s body hits the tiles, THWUNK.

IN THE BEDROOM
Bland approaches the girl. Eyes full of wonder.
Strips off his shirt. Frightening tattoos of serpents and dragons.
He climbs on top of the trembling naif. Peels off the tape.

BLAND (CONT'D)
(soft, seductive)
May I have the next dance?

The beast leans in. Kisses her softly.
She BITES HIS LIP. He CRIES OUT --

BLAND (CONT’D)
Ow! Fucking CUNT.

Massive mitts CLAMP DOWN around her head.
TWIST it -- CRACK.
It FALLS to the side. Lights out.

Child-like eyes, haunted by the sudden loss of the prize.

BLAND (CONT’D)
I hate when that happens --

INT. CHILD’S BEDROOM - AT THAT MOMENT
A pretty LITTLE GIRL (10) surfs the net on her pink I-Mac.
Sappy Hannah Montana-like music in the background.

ON THE SCREEN
We see she’s on YouTube.
Titles under the video window read BONUS POINTS.
Views: 1,213,503.
The video starts -- on a familiar scene --

Friday WHIPS OUT her gun. Points it at the waitress.
A woman SCREAMS.

FRIDAY
So, I’m gonna ask you to smile for me. Pretty please?
With sugar on top? A big, bright pageant smile?

The waitress DROPS her tray.
CLANG. Frozen, weird smile.
Friday places the gun against the waitress’s temple.

FRIDAY (CONT’D)
Bonus points if you pee your pants.

A TINY FINGER
presses ‘Favorites.’

EXT. CHATEAU MARMONT - NIGHT
A limo pulls up to the entrance. Stops. Ponytailed DRIVER gets out.
Walks to the passenger door. Opens it. Out steps --

A tall WOMAN. Massive mane of blonde. Big shades.
Cowboy hat. Sharkskin suit. Great legs.

She watches ponytail pull out luggage.
Shopping bags. A guitar case. A bird in a cage.

A BODYBUILDER-LOOKING PORTER
pulls a cart up to the mountain of Blonde’s stuff.

BODYBUILDER-LOOKING PORTER
Good evening, Miss.

BLONDE
(flashes ring, Italian accent)
Oh, I’m marreed.
My name ees Francesca Bertolucci. My husband is --

BODYBUILDER-LOOKING-PORTER
Bernardo Bertolucci? Yes, ma’am. Right this way --

INT. CHATEAU MARMONT - REGISTRATION DESK - NIGHT
The officious FRONT DESK CLERK stares at a computer monitor.

OFFICIOUS CLERK
I’m sorry, Mrs. Bertolucci, but I don’t see a reservation --

BLONDE
Eye’m going to ring dat assistant’s NECK.
Please look again. Bernardo will be most upset.
He’s joining me here in a couple of days.

OFFICIOUS CLERK
(punching buttons)
No, I’m sorry, there’s no reservation for Bertolucci --

The blonde pulls a wad of bills out of her bag.
Starts peeling off hundreds.

BLONDE
Tell you what.
Why don’t you give me a nice, cute little bungalow --
and then go out on the town, on me.

She lays what looks like a couple thousand on the desk.
The clerk eyes bug. He swallows. Scoops them up. RINGS a bell.

OFFICIOUS CLERK
Porter. Please show Mrs. Bertolucci to Bungalow 5.

EXT. BUNGALOW 5 - MOMENTS LATER
The porter wheels the Blonde’s things into the front door.
She follows, imperious.

INT. BUNGALOW 5 - CONTINUOUS
He shows her the lux digs.

PORTER
Satellite plasma TV. Mini-bar. Jacuzzi.
Room service menu. Massage schedule.

BLONDE
(hands him a hundred)
Thanks, chief. Spend it in lots of places.

PORTER
Enjoy your stay.

BLONDE
I always do.

He smiles. Nods. Leaves. She goes to the door.
Locks it. Looks around. SQUEALS with joy --

BLONDE (CONT'D)
Holy SHIT.

And WHIPS OFF her wig.
We see it’s FRIDAY.

FRIDAY
Now this is more like it.
Hot and cold running decadence.
I’m gonna haveta find a suitcase full of cash more often --

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