Onto todays' joint from LEGS, where the chicks are creamin', the action is steamin', and the bad guys are teaming ...
Just as private eye Carrie Love and undercover Interpol spook Felina Bella Donna are about to capture demented snuff filmmaker Klaus Speer, insane CIA black ops agent The Bagger shows up on the scene, with some major firepower ...
INT. KLAUS' SOUNDSTAGE - NIGHT
Carrie WHIPS out her Glock. Aims it at Klaus. SHRIEKS with anger.
Shut the fuck up, you fucking headhunter!
You killed her! And now I've got you!
(clicks the safety)
The lights flicker. Go out.
IN THE DARK
It would appear the playing field is now level, my hysterical one.
Shut up! Just shut the fucking fuck up!
Twin ultra violet rays ILLUMINATE Klaus and Samms.
Felina. Sporting high-tech headgear.
Never leave home without it.
Thanks for shedding a little light on the subject, agent Bella Donna.
Carrie steps into the high beams.
I'm really starting to groove on this spy shit.
She aims her weapon at Klaus’ head. CLICK-CLICK.
It's funny, I've never killed a man before --
but now I'm getting kinda wet.
Carrie, no! We need him alive.
An insane MALE VOICE cackles in the dark.
MALE VOICE (O.C.)
And so do I.
A strobe FLASHES.
It's THE BAGGER. With a rocket launcher.
And CINDY. Cradling a bazooka.
Nobody fucking move.
Or we'll rock your world.
Norman, is that you?
Ladies, put your weapons down.
Before I give you a fourth input.
Their guns CLATTER to the floor.
Looks like our dicks are bigger than yours.
Kick them over here.
THE BAGGER (CONT'D)
Okay, chickies, on the floor, face up.
So I can see your boobs.
Norman? Your name is Norman?
Hello, Klaus -- been a long time.
slowly crawls on the floor.
steps down from the camera dolly.
I haven't seen you since that Chuck Manson thing.
You're not still mad at me, are you?
How was I to know you had the hots for Miss Tate?
I'm not here to rehash ancient history, Speer --
I'm here to bring you in.
inches toward the crucifix.
FELINA AND CARRIE
lie on the floor.
When I say "now."
maintains his cool.
My studio has become quite profitable, Norman.
We could make a deal, perhaps a partnership.
I could use someone with your -- skills.
pulls a pistol from the small of his back.
taps a stiletto heel impatiently.
What is this, fucking prom night?
All this talking's making my trigger finger a little antsy.
reaches a torch lying on the floor.
Don't call me Norman, bitch!
The only deal you're gonna get is on KY jelly
where you're going, Speer. Assume the position.
On the floor, face down, hands on your head.
Klaus starts to move. Samms moves faster. GRABS him.
SHOVES a gun in Klaus' mouth.
I personally kinda like the idea of a deal.
Sorry, chief. No hard feelings?
lights the torch. Tosses it at the crucifix.
How'd you like a little fire, scarecrow?
WHIPS his weapon at the commotion.
What the fuck?
(points weapon at Samms)
clicks the cartridge.
Smoke starts POURING OUT.
FELINA (O.C.) (CONT'D)
Throw it, throw it!
She CHUCKS it.
The tiny silver missile lands at the Bagger's feet.
SHIT, that’s an Israeli TACTICAL SUPPRESSOR!
HOLD YOUR EARS!
The bomb SCREAMS a decibel-splitting SHRIEK.
JESUS FUCKING MARY!