Onto today's depraved joint from LEGS. Well, actually, this one ain't that depraved. More like -- bleak. You see, private eye Carrie Love gets into a big fight with her ex, patrolwoman Megan Paul in a bar, and then blood and liquor flow ...
INT. DIVE BAR - NIGHT
An old, dirty, dimly lit dump in a Venice alley.
80’s hair metal plays on the juke.
Carrie and Megan sit at the bar with cocktails.
LUPE, (40), the bartender,
a curvy fireplug of Hispanic splendor,
watches a soccer game on a tiny TV.
Can I get another shot, Lupe?
The mix-mistress holds up a finger, saying "just a minute."
How come we never came here?
I come here to drink. Do a Garbo.
Consider yourself on the list.
The Latin beauty POUNDS on the bar.
(at the TV)
Puente, fuckin maricon!
Go back to fuckin' Havana, shit-head!
(calm, to Carrie)
Comin' right up, Legs.
What about your date?
Can I freshen your spritzer, hon?
I -- I'm okay, thanks.
Lupe pours a shot of Jagermeister, slides it over.
Sets the bottle down on the bar.
(takes it, toasts)
Here's reaching up your skirt.
She slams it down. Shudders.
Carrie, I know you're upset,
but how are we gonna solve this case
if all you do is run to a bar every time you get scared?
Gimmee a fucking break.
Laura's gone, dead.
I hired one of the killers --
then I fucked one of the killers --
then I saw one of America's bloodiest home videos.
I think I have the right to have a couple of cocktails.
I know, but I don't think
getting completely fucked up is a way to --
And what if I don't care what you think, huh?
You think I care what you think?
It's not like it was, Meg, we're just working together.
Ouch. That hurt. Megan stands. Slides on her jacket.
Oh, so now you're gonna split, huh?
That's okay, go ahead, leave, I'll be fine by myself.
I'm a big girl, and I'll be just fine by myself.
I'm outta here.
Gonna leave the big girl alone with her bottle.
All of a sudden I feel like a need a shower.
Then why are you still here?
It's called love, you fucking drunk!
Ever heard of it?
You might wanna check it out sometime!
What the fuck did you just --
Shut up, Carrie, just shut up!
I'm sick of your fucking drama!
(points at the bottle)
You've made your choice.
I hope the two of you are happy.
She WHIRLS around.
MARCHES toward the door.
(over her shoulder)
I've known all along that you still wanna fuck me.
Megan stops. Cocks her head. The bar is riveted.
I know Laura’s big secret.
Some dyke you turned out to be.
I actually thought you had changed.
I felt sorry for you. Funny. Now I don't.
And she's gone.
A RED-FACED DRUNK claps.
Carrie shoots him a look.
He drops his head.
The jukebox dies out.
The crowd cheers softly on the TV.
Carrie takes a sip of beer.
Pours another shot.
The juke click-click-clicks.
The romantic, overwrought 80's classic
ABC’s THE LOOK OF LOVE starts playing.
Lupe looks at Carrie.
Smeary eyes. NOT going to cry.
Hey, honey, are you okay?
This was -- our song, Lupe. Our song.
How could I forget?
I used to have to hose down the booth after the two of you.
Carrie tries to smile. Can't.
You're Catholic, right?
Bless me father for I have fucked.
So is this how I'm supposed to pay for my sins?
(lurches, clutches stomach)
I'll be right back, I don't feel so --
She LEAPS off her stool.
RACES to the head.
INT. BAR BATHROOM - CONTINUOUS
A small, crusty, vile latrine.
Carrie RETCHES violently into the bowl.
I know what you're thinking.
God, I thought she was so cool.
Now I'm not so sure.
She SPITS in the sink.
Cups water into her mouth. Rinses.
I might be a lot of things.
But I'm usually willing to admit when I've fucked up.
IN THE MIRROR
she splashes her face.
Looks at herself. What a mess.
And tonight I really fucked up.