Happy Tuesday, crime motherfuckers. Ready to get your hardboiled-pulp-noir groove on? Then settle back, put your feet up on the desk, pop open a cold one, and get ready for the thrill ride of our life ... at That Killing Feeling.
Onto today's bloody joint from BLOOD GETS IN YOUR EYES ...
Where, deep in the bowels of the dive hotel The Starlight on the Venice boardwalk, hooker Alona Tal and boozy screenwriter Holly land are right now disposing of a dead body ...
INT. ALONA’S SHITTY HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
The dead agent’s been turned over on his stomach.
We can see the scissor handles sticking out of his back.
Alona mops up the blood with a towel.
Holly sits on the bed, staring.
Holding the bottle.
God, this is disgusting.
It’s all I can do not to puke --
She tosses the towel into a plastic bucket.
Now filled with bloody towels.
She looks at Holly.
Can I get a hit of that?
Holly holds it up-side down. Empty.
All gone. Sorry --
I’ve got some weed.
We’ll smoke one when we’re done.
Let’s wrap him up, okay?
Okay. Be right back --
She slides off the bed.
Puts the bottle down. Pads into --
Where she RIPS the shower curtain off its rings.
She stops. Looks at her reflection in the mirror.
Mirror, mirror, on the wall --
Who’s the most fucked-up of all?
IN THE BEDROOM
Holly drags the curtain behind her.
Walks over to Alona and the body.
Places it down on the floor.
Some fucked-up picnic, huh?
How can you make jokes at a time like this?
Aren’t you -- scared? I am --
Watching daddy beat mommy as a little girl
gives a gal a strange sense of humor.
Ohmigod, I’m sorry.
That must have been -- horrible.
It was long time ago, baby.
C’mon, let’s roll up Oscar.
Get him ready for shipping.
That was -- his name?
Alona nods. Goes over to the body.
Starts rolling him onto the shower curtain.
'My baloney has a first name, it’s O-S-C-A-R -- '
(looks at Holly)
Could you give me a hand? Fucker’s heavy.
Dead weight --
She BURSTS into insane laughter.
Holly stares. Shakes her head.
Gets on her knees next to her.
They roll him onto the edge of the curtain.
Alona grabs the edge.
Okay, now --
like a fruit roll-up, let’s wrap ‘em up.
They hold the curtain against his side,
and start rolling him up like some kind of ungodly burrito.
He goes over and over,
making a sickening THUMP each time.
They finish. Exhausted.
Holly goes to the bed. Sits.
Puts her head in her hands.
I’m going to hell for this --
Alona sits next to her.
Cradles her in her arms.
Honey, didn’t you know?
We’re already there.