Onto today's joint from LEGS, where things take an interesting turn ...
Having escaped the clutches of demented snuff filmmaker Klaus Speer, private eye Carrie Love and black ops Interpol spook Felina Bella Donna travel to her safe house, 'Goldenrod,' where they meet with Felina's handler, the mysterious 'B' ...
EXT. HOLLYWOOD HILLS - ROAD - NIGHT
Carrie and Felina stop at a street. Breathless. Wind-blown.
I am not happy.
These heels are fucking killing me.
These mules were not made for mountaineering.
She grimaces. Pulls off a shoe. Then the other.
You think I'm happy?
I had that bloody freak right in the palm of my hand.
Is this the spy who fucked me?
The spy who said she'd save me?
I guess it's true what they say about dominants.
What the fuck do they say about dominants?
Oh -- just that deep inside the heart
of the cruelest mistress hides
the sweetest, softest, submissive little girl.
Carrie slaps her butt playfully.
So let's haul ass, and that's an order.
My feet are fucking freezing.
EXT. ESTATE - NIGHT
Carrie and Felina walk down an obscenely long driveway.
Holding hands. Dwarfed by the lush expanse.
We barely escaped with our panties on.
The most wanted man on the planet wants us for dinner.
The hunters are now the prey.
And I'm holding hands with her like I'm in fucking high school.
Scratch that. I hated high school.
Admit it, you think I'm just into Felina on the rebound.
That I'm just some codependent chick
that swoons at the first pretty face that reaches up my skirt.
I'm going to ask you a question.
You know that passionate,
rip your fingernails down her back
kinda sex is like a drug, right?
Ever shot heroin in your cooch?
EXT. MANSION - FRONT DOOR - NIGHT
An imposing faux-Tudor monstrosity
that would do Rupert Murdoch proud.
Carrie and Felina huddle in the doorway.
Felina rings the buzzer.
Nice safe house. Where's the butler?
Hey, having a license to kill
doesn't mean you can't live a little.
A British-accented MALE VOICE crackles over the intercom.
MALE VOICE (O.C.)
Who the blazes is it? Can’t you read?
No solicitors! I don’t want to hear “the good news!”
(into the speaker)
B, it's me -- your wayward temptress.
My stars -- Felina.
What a delightful surprise.
I’m sorry if this is a bad time --
but I’m afraid it’s not a social call.
It never is -- is it.
Right, then. Security clearance?
(thinks, then -- )
Tony Blair sends an invitation
to join him at tonight’s command performance
of “Puppetry of the Penis.”
Please give my sincere apologies.
Tonight I’m seeing “The Vagina Monologues” with Mr. Bush.
Better your box than mine.
Not my Bush.
Edgar will be right down.
Interesting passwords, agent Bella Donna.
Speaking of interesting --
She leans over. Gives Carrie a long, lingering kiss.
INT. FOYER - FRONT DOOR - CONTINUOUS
EDGAR (70), the butler, opens the door with a gloved hand.
Sees the women necking. Shakes his head. Wistful.
Young love. Enchanting.
The lovers pull apart. Busted.
Good evening, Edgar.
This is my associate, Carrie Love.
Hey, there. Nice ascot.
Welcome to Goldenrod, Miss Love.
That's our special agent,
combining business with pleasure.
Carrie blushes. Felina flashes a shit-eating grin.
Please, follow me. He's expecting you.