Happy Tuesday, crime slicksters. Are you ready for another hardboiled slice of two-fisted pulp-noir action so hot it'll melt your face off? Then get your asses to the coolest joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feelling.
Well, we just hit the 300 mark on this here blog. Blows my mind. When I started this joint back in April of last year, I've been posting my stuff for all of you to enjoy, and it warms my cold, cruel heart that it, and you, are still around. Welcome back my friends, to the crime that never ends ...
Onto today's joint from BLOOD GETS IN YOUR EYES ...
When we last left boozy screenwriter Holly Land, she had taken Hollywood agent assistant Feo up to her room at gunpoint after he fingered her for the liquor store robbery earlier that evening. And imagine his surprise when he learns that not only his his boss dead, but that Holly is the one that killed him ...
INT. HOLLY’S SHITTY HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
Feo stumbles into the room, scared to death.
Holly follows him in. Pointing the gun at him through her purse.
She closes the door.
Pulls it out.
Waves it at him.
Sit, on the bed.
Look, I’m sorry you -- got in trouble.
If you let me go,
I promise I won’t tell the cops anything.
Please don’t shoot me --
Shut up. I have to think.
I have an idea --
I said SHUT THE FUCK UP.
Feo gulps. Stares at her balefully.
Holly goes to the kitchenette,
keeping the gun on him.
Pours a glass of vodka.
Takes a big glug.
Wipes her mouth.
Looks at him.
Stupid jerk and your stupid script.
Why couldn’t you just mind your own business?
(off his silence)
Hello? I asked you a QUESTION.
You told me to shut up.
I have to get this script to him,
it’s a matter of life and death --
Scarlet Stone is reading it tonight, and --
Wait a minute.
Why don’t I give you the script,
you can give it to him,
and I’ll just -- go away.
I won’t say ANYTHING to the cops, I promise.
Please, this is gonna cost me my job --
(takes another sip)
That’s -- not possible.
What do you mean?
What? You robbed the liquor store AND killed my boss?
Holly drains the glass. Pours another.
Takes a sip. Weaves a little.
Walks over to him.
Shaking the gun back and forth.
I didn’t ROB the fucking liquor store,
I just had the bad luck to BE there
when those chollo GREASEBALLS did.
But I saw you, on the tape, with the gun.
Shut the fuck up and LISTEN TO ME.
It was self-defense.
The Rasta shot the first gang-banger,
and his gun flew away and landed on the floor next to me --
and then I shot the second one as he came in.
It was self-defense.
And -- what happened to Oscar?
(eyes tear up)
I thought he was attacking Alona --
I was just trying to save her -- and I --
Stabbed him in the back with a pair of scissors.
She breaks down. Starts crying.
Hey, it’s okay --
He gets up. Starts to come to her.
(aims the gun at him)
Stay right the fuck WHERE YOU ARE.
A soft KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK at the door.