Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Temptation Be Thy Name
Hey there, crime kids. It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where your most violent fantasies become sins of the flesh, right here, where the hardboiled action is non-stop, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.
In chapter 8 of LEGS, private eye Carrie Love visits the strip club where her client's daughter Dina was working as a dancer before she disappeared. She interviews the owner, Cor Chirac, a nasty French-Canadian, who's no help. But then she meets stripper Johnna James, who gives her the REAL scoop about what happened to Dina ...
EXT. THE CHEETAH LOUNGE - NIGHT
Not quite the witching hour on the Sunset Strip.
But still plenty of pneumatic young things
strutting their stuff on the Boulevard of Broken Necks.
Glitzy storefront with a neon sign beckons invitingly.
A bored-looking BOUNCER sits on a stool
watching the flesh parade.
An off-duty STRIPPER comes outside.
Lights a smoke.
The ‘Gentleman’s club’
is an interesting phenomenon.
INT. THE CHEETAH LOUNGE - NIGHT
Dark and plush. Tons of lights, mirrors.
All chrome and black leather.
A handful of PATRONS watch a busty gal
do her thing on the pole to some hair metal ballad.
Men will pay hard-earned cash
to go to a place where
they can see naked women.
Where they can look, but not touch.
It’s the ultimate tease.
A gentle torture.
Erotic pleasure -- with no release.
No climax. No -- closure.
Kinda like going to a restaurant
and not being able to eat.
Or going to a whorehouse
and not being able to --
Never mind. You get the idea.
AT THE BAR
Sits Carrie, talking with the owner,
(50’s), the very definition of ‘oily.’
Why should I tell you anything?
You smell like COP --
Meet COR CIRAC, French Canadian ex-pat.
Short, skinny. Salt and pepper stubble.
Rat-like beady eyes glistening in the dark.
Receding hairline combed over and Donald Trumped.
I told you. I’m a private investigator.
Her father hired me to find her.
Call him if you don’t believe me.
Maybe she doesn’t want to be found.
Ever thought of that?
And maybe something BAD happened to her.
Her father’s worried sick --
Cor picks up his glass.
I don’t know where she went.
She just no longer come here.
(slides off his stool)
Now, if you’ll excuse me,
I have business to take care of --
He walks away toward the back office.
FEMALE VOICE (O.C.)
Did I hear you say
you were looking for Dina?
Carrie, turns --
Sees a GORGEOUS STRIPPER (29)
seated on the other side of her.
Meet JONNA JAMES. Six-feet of ripe,
curved flesh barely poured into a gauzy babydoll.
Temptation be thy name.
Yeah. Do you know where she went?
I might --
Buy you a drink?
I don’t drink.
Nah. Carbonation makes my tummy stick out.
(gives her a card)
Carrie Love, PI.
(reads it, looks her over)
You ever -- dance?
Just not in public --
Who’s looking for her?
That’s what I was afraid of.
I don’t understand --
That’s WHO she’s hiding from.
Not here. Come with me. Outside.
EXT. THE CHEETAH LOUNGE - BACK ALLEY - NIGHT
Jonna and Carrie sit on the back stoop.
Jonna lights a cigarette.
Takes a big hit. Looks at Carrie.
You sure you wanna hear this?
It’s not pretty.
Seen it all, babe.
Used to be a cop.
(searches Carrie’s face)
You seem cool --
Her father has sex tapes
of the two of them,
and he’s threatening to post them online
if she doesn’t come back home.
But if he has sex tapes,
why is she hiding?
Uh -- she got tired of
being raped by him?
(mutters to herself)
Figures. My first client -- asshole.
Do you know where she is?
Are you kidding?
You’re working for who
she’s hiding from.
Not anymore I’m not.
Fucking pervert --
God-DAMMIT. My retainer --
He already gave you money?
Fuck ‘em. Keep it.
Maybe Dina will hire you to stop HIM.
Not a bad idea --
So where is she?
At home. She’s my roommate.
The plot thickens --
Tell you what.
I did the early shift
and get off soon.
Why don’t you wait at the bar,
and we’ll go there together.
Sound like a plan?
How do you know you can trust me?
PUSH IN ON Jonna’s face.
Narrows her eyes.
And you have nice eyes.