Happy Thursday, crime freaks! Are your ready to take another trip to the dark side? Is your weapon cleaned and loaded? Then strap on your holster and get your ass over to the coolest joint in cyberspace, where the action is hot, and the chicks are hotter ... at That Killing Feeling.
In today's chapter from your favorite spy thriller NOWHERE GIRLS, agents April Street and Cherry Nation are about to make an emergency landing in their stolen FBI helicopter at Santa Monica airport during a power blackout ... while they're being pursued by the Feds ... and black ops assassin Irina Kolishnikov ...
INT. HELICOPTER - MOVING - NIGHT
April drives the chopper. Cherry looks out the window.
We’ve gotta find a place to land, pronto.
But we’ll get to Hollywood faster if we fly there --
Every government agent in the STATE is after us,
and this is an FBI chopper. Sore thumb much?
(sees something, points)
Hey, look, up ahead --
Santa Monica airport.
We’ll land there --
You know, after this is over,
I think I’m gonna take a break.
Spend some time with the kids --
That is, if we can --
Trust me, sis.
We’re going to GET THEM BACK, okay?
(off her silence)
Now hold on.
I’m a little out of practice landing one of these --
(stares at her, eyes bugging)
'A little out of practice?'
EXT. FBI SUV - MOVING - NIGHT
Max drives. Sunday talks on her cell.
You have their position? GOOD JOB.
We’re on our way, roger and OUT.
She CLICKS the phone shut.
They’re landing at Santa Monica airport.
We’ll cut off the perimeter, box ‘em in.
(picks up radio, CLICKS it on)
Attention, all units.
Suspects are landing at Santa Monica airport.
Get your asses over there
and seal off the area IMMEDIATELY.
ANGRY MALE VOICE (O.C.)
Copy that, Cargo. We’re ON OUR WAY --
EXCITED MALE VOICE (O.C.)
We’re SO there, dude.
Let’s catch us some PUSSY. Snappin’ GYRO.
Copy DAT, my MAN. OVER --
Sunday sighs. Looks out the window.
On behalf of all men everywhere,
I’d like to apologize for that
incredibly insensitive display of macho bravado.
What are you talking about?
I say let’s get those fucking CUNTS.
INT. IRINA’S CAR - MOVING - NIGHT
She drives up the coast like a madwoman,
zipping around traffic. Looks at her GPS.
Punches buttons on the dash.
Looks at the coordinates. Nods, grim.
I’ve got you in web, said spider to fly --
EXT. SANTA MONICA AIRPORT - NIGHT
Deserted at this hour. And dark.
A few AIRPLANES dot the landscape.
A Department of Water and Power van sits idling.
The chopper appears in the sky.
INT. CHOPPER - MOVING - CONTINUOUS
April works the controls. Squints in the darkness.
Must be a power-outage or something. Hold on.
Descends onto the tarmac.
But it’s coming down TOO FAST.
Pulls back on the stick.
Slows it’s descent, rises a bit,
then PLUMMETS down.
YANKS the stick.
The girls get JERKED in their seats.
What the fuck are you DOING?
Stops. Hovers. Then lands slowly.
HITS the tarmac. BANG.
INT. CHOPPER - CONTINUOUS
The girls look at each other. EXHALE.
Sorry about that.
Been a couple of years. Bit rusty.
Almost pissed my pants.
(looks out the window)
Check out the van.
Incognito ahoy --