Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Fucked
Happy Tuesday, 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 26 of NOWHERE GIRLS, it's the calm before the storm as FBI agents Max Cargo and Sunday Sparks send a SWAT team into the shopping mall to get covert ops Cherry Nation and April Street. Meanwhile, evil criminal mastermind Honey Almond chooses a new assassin to get the girls ... while they look for an escape route deep in the mall basement ...
EXT. SHOPPING MALL - NIGHT
Sunday and Max walk up to a GRUFF SWAT COMMANDER,
a big, burly, no-nonsense kinda fella.
Has the perimeter been secured?
GRUFF SWAT COMMANDER
Yeah. We’re sweeping the interior.
They’re probably in one of the
basements by now --
Then we have them TRAPPED.
Good work, officer --
GRUFF SWAT COMMANDER
Sergeant. Sergeant Sprague.
(looks her up and down)
TOM Sprague -- like ‘tomcat’ --
So listen, after we catch these fillies,
what do you say we grab a cup of java?
I’ve got the cream.
Sunday’s nostrils flare. She reaches up.
GRABS him by the balls. Squeezes HARD.
He WINCES in pain.
Now you listen to me, BUSTER.
I’m the west coast BUREAU CHIEF,
and I can have your badge
faster than Andy Dick in a pharmacy.
So get your fat ass BACK ON THE JOB,
and save your sleazy come-ons
for some cheap whore who GIVES A FUCK.
She lets go with flourish.
He stumbles backwards,
bowing and nodding his head furiously.
Yes, sir -- uh, ma’am -- I’m sorry,
I will, I, I --
And he trots off, red-faced.
Good job. Surgical precision.
Hell hath no fury like a woman fucked.
INT. HONEY’S UNDERGROUND LAIR - AT THAT MOMENT
Honey stands next to Monsterburg
at his work station.
Pull up our database of assets.
I want to see all of our sleepers.
You having -- second thoughts about Rock?
That’s why I make the big bucks,
little fella. Gimmee some names.
His fingers FLY across the keyboard.
A stream of DATA starts filling
his computer monitor.
(reads off the screen)
Irina Kolishnikov. What’s her deal?
Hold on a sec --
The computer BEEPS,
and we see on the screen:
A big, beautiful hunk of curved, Russian muscle.
Martina Navratilova’s body,
with the face of Angelina Jolie.
Reads the intel.
Fluent in five languages,
can bench press three-hundred pounds,
expert marksman --
Been in sleeper status five years.
Never been used on an assignment.
Programmed to kill, then self-terminate.
Works as a ‘fitness instructor to the stars’
in Beverly Hills. PERFECT.
(looks at him)
Active her IMMEDIATELY.
Your wish is my command,
oh mighty goddess of espionage.
Honey blinks. Startled. Pleased.
Play your cards right, sonny,
and there’ll be a big promotion for you.
Monsterburg turns red. Blushes.
Color me tingly all over.
I never got your first name, doll.
Okay, Dave. Time for you get
Goliath on me and use that big stick.
INT. SHOPPING MALL - UNDERGROUND CORRIDOR - AT THAT MOMENT
April and Cherry walk down a corridor.
Get to the end.
See a door padlocked shut.
April pulls out a small, felt bag.
Takes out a lock pick.
Starts working the tumblers.
Once again I meet a great guy
and he gets KILLED --
I know. I’m sorry.
Poor Simon --
Makes you wanna rethink
your career path, huh?
The door CLICKS open.
They walk into --
INT. EQUIPMENT ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Dark and dingy. Cramped with humming banks
of fuse boxes and phone relays.
Air conditioning machines.
They both SNAP on their flashlights.
Start to walk through the room.
So what was the problem?
He was cute, funny.
Seemed like a great guy.
He was. But he was -- too clingy.
I had to tell him my every move,
which made doing my JOB kinda tricky.
You think we’ll EVER find someone?
Are you fucking kidding me?
Too smokin’ hot chicks like us?
Holy shit. Check it OUT --
April’s light shines on a
SET OF STEEL RUNGS on the cement wall
that lead up into a opening in the ceiling.
Bingo. We can climb up to the roof.
But how will Rock be able to get to us?
If Honey and her cronies
orchestrated this whole fiasco,
I’m SURE her number two
can figure it out.
C’mon, time to climb the espionage ladder.
Always with the witty repartee --
Hey, doll -- dialogs are forever.