Happy Thursday, crime slicksters. Are you ready to take another trip to the dark side? Then choose your favorite weapon, and get your tight little ass over to the coolest joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.
Onto today's joint from BLOOD GETS IN YOUR EYES, where someone meets a most untimely end ...
When we last left prep school teacher Gill Sherry, he had escaped up onto the roof of the hotel to escape the prying eyes of the cops searching the building, but when he tries to jump across to the next building, things get a little ... sticky.
EXT. HOTEL STARLIGHT - FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT
A crappy, old set of crumbling steel steps.
Gill reaches the landing. Starts up the ladder toward the roof.
EXT. HOTEL STARLIGHT - ROOF - NIGHT
An old, filthy, tar-papered roof.
The view of the ocean across the beach is breathtaking.
The moon shines brightly.
Gill gets to the top.
Climbs up onto the roof.
Top of the world, Ma.
(stretches out his arms)
I’m KING of the world.
I’m going to die.
He walks around, looking at the neighboring buildings.
Stops on the ledge of the building to the north.
Looks down at the alley.
Then back at the building. Thinking.
I could jump across to that building --
and then get the fuck out of Dodge.
Gill takes a step back.
Turns around and walks to the opposite side.
Exhales. Gathering up his courage.
He closes his eyes. Exhales again.
His eyes FLY OPEN, and he RUNS across the roof,
gets to the ledge -- and LEAPS INTO THE AIR --
And lands against the opposite wall with a SLAP.
Hands grab for a hold on the edge of the roof,
but he can’t find something to hold onto --
and starts to slip --
And then FALLS.
CLOSE ON --
A wrought iron fence post.
Gill’s body impaled on it.
Face-up. Right through his torso.
INT. STARLIGHT HOTEL - CORRIDOR - AT THAT MOMENT
Danette stands by the window.
Leans out, looks into the alley down below. Horrified.
(turns, looks at him)
Somebody just fell off the roof.
What the fuck? Really?
Holy shit. Poor guy.
Talk about heartburn.
Don’t you recognize him?
Fuck. It’s the perp who shot his wife.
Till death do us part, kiddo.
You shouldn’t make jokes about the dead.
Why not? Haven’t you heard of gallows humor?
It relieves tension. A cop’s stock and trade.
She looks at him. Does a ‘take.’ Looks down.
Now that’s what I call a ‘spike.’