Happy Thursday, crime freaks! Are you ready for another trip to the dark side? Looking for adventure? Then you've come to the right place, where the action is hot, and the chicks are hotter ... at That Killing Feeling.
Today I'm proud to unveil the first chapter of my latest screenplay, NOWHERE GIRLS. It's the sequel to NOWHERE GIRL, an ultra-violent hardboiled-pulp spy chick joint, which is right now in the process of being adapted into a graphic novel. Good times. Issue No. 1 of the comic book version will be out later this spring. To say anything more about it will spoil the surprises in store ...
Onto to the start of our story. When we first meet Homeland Security agents April Street and Cherry Nation, they get sucked into a plot to hijack the White House State Dinner when terrorists gate-crash the party ...
EXT. MALIBU COLONY - NIGHT
A full moon glows above the ocean, inky black water
forming steel grey and white waves CRASHING to shore.
A BOAT appears. Drops anchor.
A pair of FIGURES IN BLACK in wet suits
JUMP into the water. Start swimming toward --
Glittering multi-million dollar homes on the sand.
The expensive seats. We face one joint whose lights are BLAZING.
INT. MALIBU HOME - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
A gorgeous, lux pad that would do Jerry Bruckheimer proud.
Large, overstuffed furniture.
Outre art. Big-screen plasma screen.
Full bar. Lit candles everywhere.
APRIL STREET (28) sits on the couch watching a movie.
Dark brown hair in a smokin’ pageboy. Tall and curvy.
More than hot in a black leather catsuit. Super-spy deluxe.
She GRABS a handful of popcorn from a bowl on her lap.
Kick his ASS!
ON THE SCREEN
We see Milla Jovovich in RESIDENT EVIL,
brandishing two giant semi-automatic weapons,
SPRAYING BULLETS into the bad guys.
SITTING NEXT TO APRIL
Is her twin sister, CHERRY NATION (28),
her doppelganger, except for the long, blonde hair.
Former stripper, now her partner in espionage.
Veronica to her Betty, if you will.
Right now she’s looking at her laptop.
Takes a sip from her martini.
Shakes her head in disbelief.
'Emma Peel' friended me? What the hell?
You’re on Face-fuck too much.
(at the screen)
Suddenly the big picture window behind them
EXPLODES in a hail of bullets.
The two figures JUMP into the room.
Point their tactical assault weapons at them.
TALL FIGURE IN BLACK
Somebody order room service?
EXT. THE WHITE HOUSE - NIGHT
A clear, sparkling summer night at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
There’s a long line of limos idling outside the president’s joint.
Must be some swanky shindig. What’s for State Dinner?
INT. THE WHITE HOUSE - REAR ENTRANCE - CONTINUOUS
A pair of SECRET SERVICES AGENTS stand in the doorway.
Nondescript. World-weary. Stone-faced.
A FAT MAN (40’s)
and his GORGEOUS BLOND WIFE (30’s) approach them.
She’s quite the trophy. Tall, thin and busty, with bottle-blonde hair.
Beaming. Just thrilled to be there.
Akyab and Vicki Malani, from the Yemeni Embassy.
The OLDER AGENT looks at his clipboard.
Nods. Checks off their names. They walk in.
INT. THE WHITE HOUSE - BALLROOM - NIGHT
THE PRESIDENT (40’s), good-looking, sharp in his tux,
eyes blazing with serene smarts,
chats with an AFRICAN DIGNITARY.
The Malanis walk up to him.
The Prez gets an eyeful of Vicki.
Smiles broadly. Offers her hand.
She shakes it. Dazzled.
Nice to meet you, Mr. President.
My stars, you’re even better looking in person.
Akyab puts his hand on the Prez’s shoulder. Leans in.
Mr. President, thank you very much for having us.
I’m glad both of you came tonight.
Which embassy are you with?
Akyab smiles. Opens his jacket to reveal
DOZENS OF SMALL EXPLOSIVE DEVICES
strapped to his bulky torso.
Embassy? We’re with the Taliban --
Praise Allah, y’all.
Love what you’ve done with the ballroom.