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Onto today's chapter from BLOOD GETS IN YOUR EYES ...
When we last left hooker Alona Tal and hard-drinking wannabe screenwriter Holly Land, they were at the seedy Venice hotel The Starlight, discussing a possible hookup with Alona's boyfriend, dealer Beggar Leck ... so they decide to go downstairs to the bar for a night cap, where they get hit on by mysterious stranger. Meanwhile, Beggar is 'out in the field,' playing 'let's make a drug deal' ...
INT. HOLLY’S SHITTY HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
Holly sits at her desk, typing on her laptop. She stops.
Takes a sip of vodka. Stares at the screen. Hears something.
She gets up. Takes the picture off the wall.
Presses her ear against the vent. Listening.
God, YES. That’s so FUCKING GOOD --
Holly grabs her drink. Drains it. Listens. Heart pounding.
EXT. LONG BEACH - HARBOR - NIGHT - AT THAT MOMENT
An old, battered red BMW convertible pulls up to a decrepit warehouse.
Parks. Beggar gets out. Walks over to a doorway.
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCKS on it. A small window OPENS.
A nasty-looking EUROTRASH THUG (30’S) looks at him through the glass.
Grins a decayed smile. The door OPENS.
Mr. Leck. So nice of you to drop by.
Vlad. Looking dapper as usual.
INT. WAREHOUSE - CONTINUOUS
Beggar and Vlad walk over to a makeshift table
made out of a piece of plywood on two saw horses.
A suitcase is on it. Open.
Inside, a dozen plastic bags filled with white powder.
A GREASY THUG (20’S) grins at Beggar.
Look. Is Power-Seller.
Nice to see you too, Sasha.
Sasha takes out a packet.
TOSSES it to Beggar.
I assume you want usual deal?
You know my credit is good.
I’ll be able to move this in a week, tops.
You do more thinking about coming to work for us full-time?
I’ll have to get back to you on that.
Kinda like being my own boss.
That may be.
But as part of organization, you have protection.
And are part of family.
Not sure I’m into -- family values.
INT. HOLLY’S SHITTY HOTEL ROOM - AT THAT MOMENT
Holly sits at her desk. Staring at her laptop.
She pours the last of the vodka bottle into her cup. Makes a face.
A soft TAP-TAP-TAP at the door.
Alona glides into the room. Dazzling smile.
How did you guess?
Uh -- lucky?
You look so sad.
Writing’s not -- going well. I’m blocked.
(sees the empty bottle)
Well, now wonder. You gotta dead soldier.
Come on down to the bar with me and take a break.
Keep me company.
(pulls out cash)
It’s on me. Gotta straight flush.
I dunno --
C’mon, I won’t bite. I promise.
Unless you want me to.
INT. THE STARLIGHT LOUNGE - NIGHT - LATER
Alona and Holly sit on bar stools.
The joint is deserted, except for a couple of DRUNKS
sitting at the end watching a ball game on a shitty little TV above the bar.
They’ve had more than a few. Both quite drunk.
Holly raises her glass, takes a swig of vodka.
My parents are REALLY pissed.
But you can go back to school, can’t you?
Not really. I got into some -- trouble.
What kind of --
MALE VOICE (O.C.)
LADIES. Do you mind if I join you?
Reveal BOB BALL (40), smooth-talking, good-looking journalist.
A bit scuzzy without a shave and a serious case of ‘bed head.’
But still with that aura of cool.
He sits on the stool next to Alona. Grins. Sips his beer.
Bob Ball, I’m a writer -- doing a piece on dive bars,
and thought I’d scope the joint out.
Joint? Read much Mickey Spillane?
Ooh. Feisty. Just the way I like ‘em.
You gals come here often?
We live here.
(off his look)
In the hotel, upstairs.
Well, that’s certainly convenient.
Is he -- hitting on us?
Occupations hazard, I’m afraid.
I see a couple of hot chicks,
and I become a heat-seaking missile.
(stands, takes Holly’s hand)
Come on, baby. Let’s blow this popsicle dick.
Somebody turned up the testosterone too high.
You talk like -- you’re in a movie.
(watches them leave)
Nothing ventured, nothing sprained.