Thursday, November 18, 2010
What Would Mike Hammer Do?
Happy Thursday, crime slicksters. It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where the girls are hot, the drinks are cold, and the hardboiled-pulp-noir action is non-stop, right here, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.
In Chapter 14 of LEGS, private eye Carrie Love leaves Club Fuck after closing time, dejected that she couldn't find her date, porn star Laura Wood, when suddenly she finds her on the sidewalk, and more than sparks fly. Meanwhile strip club owner Cor Cirac tends to his underaged Russian female white slave imprisoned in the basement ...
EXT. CLUB FUCK - NIGHT
Closing time. Party kids spill onto the sidewalk.
Carrie weaves out the door.
Fumbles in her purse, pulls out a smoke.
There you are.
I never -- found you in there.
That’s a shame.
I had my top off for an hour --
before I got busted.
No. My date.
He finally found me.
Where’s he now?
I finally lost him.
So -- can I get --
your phone number?
(writes on Carrie’s hand)
Don’t wash it off, now.
(doesn’t let go)
You’ll regret it.
So -- I guess, um --
Well, aren’t you gonna kiss me?
Uh -- yeah.
They kiss. Soft. Tender.
No one else in the world.
They break apart.
A CROWD OF ONLOOKERS
Cheer. Carrie looks down. Embarrassed.
You better go home, detective,
and get some rest.
I got plans for you.
PUSH IN on Carrie’s face.
Plans -- for me?
INT. THE CHEETAH LOUNGE - BASEMENT - NIGHT
Music softly THUMP-THUMP-THUMPS from above.
Dark and shitty. Like something out of SAW.
Cor walks down a dimly lit corridor
carrying a paper bag. Gets to the end.
We see a big, steel windowless door,
like to a jail cell.
He pulls his keys out. Opens it.
We see a padded, sound-proof cell.
Lying on the floor is a RUSSIAN GIRL (17).
She stares at him blankly.
Drugged to the gills.
Cor opens the bag.
Tosses her a wrapped SANDWICH.
Time for a midnight snack, my lovely.
Your new husband will be here later,
and we don’t want your blood-sugar level
to get too low.
Underaged stares at the sandwich blankly.
Eat, eat, eat. I made it myself.
Chicken salad. It’s good for you.
Now be good little mail order slave and EAT.
I’ll be back to tuck you in later.
He shuts the door.
Locks it. Sighs happily.
I’m finally going to be able to do
the remodel on the KITCHEN --
EXT./INT. CARRIE’S PORSCHE - MOVING - NIGHT
Carrie’s behind the wheel.
The wind whipping her hair.
We see tears streaked on her face.
She lights a smoke.
I didn’t know whether
I was coming or going.
Between trying to solve this case,
dealing with the family bullshit,
and falling head over heels
with a porn star,
I was caught between
a rock and a bad TV movie.
What would Mike Hammer do?