Onto today's joint from HIT & RUN HOLIDAY. Better roll up your sleeve, kiddies, cause now the shit's comin' hard and fast ...
First up, unemployed screenwriter/car thief Friday Foster continues on her reign of terror. After losing everything she had in the world, and then findinge a million in cold hard cash and a semi-automatic weapon, something inside her snaps ... and she cruises down the street, saying whatever pops into her head ... to innocent pedestrians ...
Meanwhile, Friday's exploits have made the news.
And the media is now starting to follow this late-breaking story ...
EXT. LAMBERT INSTITUTE - REAR ALLEY - NOON
Friday makes her way down the alley. Carries two briefcases.
Okay. I’m commuting. Commuting home.
Leavin’ the think tank early --
Too much thinking. Not enough tanking.
She turns the corner, walks onto --
EXT. ARIZONA AVENUE - CONTINUOUS
A smattering of PEDESTRIANS. Late afternoon on a weekday.
A wild-eyed FILTHY SKELL stands a few feet away.
Long, matted hair down to his ass.
Like a big piece of butterscotch.
Do you know the answer? Do you?
I said, DO YOU KNOW THE ANSWER?
She glances at the sign he’s holding.
TALK TO JESUS.
Shut the fuck up. Stop shouting at me.
You need to TALK TO JESUS!
Friday blinks. Cocks her head. Shudders.
Rears back a briefcase, SWINGS --
and CRACKS him in the head.
BANG. He goes down. THUMP.
Jesus died for somebody’s sins, but not mine.
EXT. THIRD STREET PROMENADE - DAY
All that’s scary and overpriced about consumerism.
Laid out in a string of overdone chain joints.
Main Street, not.
Shopping. Let’s go shopping.
Cause when the going gets tough --
The tough buy shit.
The liquid-cool sounds of The Zombie’s SHE’S NOT THERE over --
Friday drifts down the street.
Examining the bright, shiny faces of shoppers
with their bright, shiny shopping bags.
walks out of an expensive boutique.
Now dressed in funky urban chic.
Leather boots and hat.
Rubber jacket. Very ‘Mad Maxine.’
Twin leather saddlebags store the briefcases.
AT THE CORNER
the lemmings wait for the light. No cars.
Friday starts walking, crosses the street.
Turns around. Laughs.
CAMERA follows her walking. Now with a spring in her step.
She passes an OVERWEIGHT COUPLE sitting
at a sidewalk cafe eating big, greasy cheeseburgers.
Better hope Jenny Craig doesn’t catch you.
She passes a CLOWN holding a bunch of balloons.
As she passes, she POPS one. Startles him.
Enough clowning around.
What the worst part about molesting a child in the woods?
Going home alone later.
Passes a BAD STREET MUSICIAN playing some earnest folk song.
Curt Cobain is spinning in his GRAVE.
Goes by a BEARDED MAN sitting on the sidewalk.
Licking the remains of a fast food clam shell.
Ah. Dining el fresco.
And with what joi de vive.
Zagat gives it a NINE.
Friday walks by an LEGLESS MAN in a wheelchair.
Holds a cup.
Help the homeless?
The Homeless? All of them?
What -- are you an organized charity?
And what’s up with the term The Homeless?
Sounds too noble, too PC.
What happened to Bum? Vagrant? Hobo?
She stops. Pulls out her smokes.
Lights one up. Exhales. Ah.
A battered-looking SCUZZY YOUNG PUNK
eyes her from his perch on a park bench.
SCUZZY YOUNG PUNK
Hey, lady. You gottan extra cigarette?
Friday stops. Fakes being startled.
Looks around mockingly.
You -- talking to ME?
SCUZZY YOUNG PUNK
Yeah. You gottan extra cigarette?
Wait. Let me think --
Oh, shit -- that’s right.
I left the ‘extra cigarettes’ at home.
(holds up the pack)
These are for me.
SCUZZY YOUNG PUNK
Alright. You don’t have to be such a bitch --
Nice rap you got, you little fuck.
First you beg, then you fucking INSULT ME?
Do you know how EXPENSIVE cigarettes are?
Do you honestly think I’m just gonna GIVE ONE
to some slacker little PUNK?
You’re young. You’ve got no excuse.
GET A JOB, make SOME MONEY,
and BUY YOUR OWN FUCKING CIGARETTES --
Nearby, PEDESTRIANS stop. Stare.
Now. If you’ll all excuse me. I’ve got a meeting.
And I’ve got a lot of preparation to do.
She starts sauntering on her way.
SCREAMING graphics WHIZ BY at LIGHTNING SPEED.
COPS. BAD GUYS. HOSTAGES. RIOTS.
A COP STUN-GUNS a PERP.
Then, LARGE BLOCK LETTERS, one at a time, spell --
C-R-I-M-E T-I-M-E N-E-W-S!
INT. TV NEWS STUDIO - DAY
A grim-looking but faintly smiling BLONDE WASP ANCHOR
sits behind the news desk with a beautiful young LATINA CO-ANCHOR.
BLONDE WASP ANCHOR
And in what first appeared to be a random act of terror,
has now spread to downtown Santa Monica
in what is starting to look like a crime wave --
(looks at Latina)
That’s right, Johnny. Several acts of violence
have now been connected to the same person.
A young woman.
A tourist on the Venice Boardwalk caught on tape
this altercation between a waitress
and the unidentified woman at the Cracked Earth Cafe.
ON GRAINY, HAND-HELD VIDEO
Friday WHIPS OUT her gun.
Points it at the waitress.
A woman SCREAMS.
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.
Bonus points if you pee your pants.
IN THE STUDIO
We’ve just learned that what looks like the same woman
tried to kidnap and terrorize Dann Israel,
a Nobel-Prize winning Ph.D. in economics at the Lambert Institute.
After a brief struggle, the mystery woman made her escape.
Police are asking anyone who has seen this woman
to immediately contact their local precinct.
Next up, Candy Smoot tells us how ring tones
might just lower your sperm count.
And, quite possibly -- your IQ.