Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Like Wet Camel In Hot Sun
Hey there, crime kids. Happy fucking Hump Day. Do you know what time it is? 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 NOWHERE GIRL, it's non-stop thrills when Homeland Security agent April Street gets into a fight with black ops thug Token Ware ... while the terrorists play nasty games with their hostages ... and then April gets attacked by assassins sent by Sledge Crafton, her former boss ...
EXT. PEELER MARDO’S JOINT - NIGHT
April comes out the front door, walks to the curb.
Sees Token’s big, black SUV.
Takes out his keys, presses a button,
and THWIP, the doors open.
He won’t mind if I borrow it
for a little while.
The front door FLIES OPEN,
and Token RACES toward April,
carrying the chair she cuffed him to.
She JUMPS IN. LOCKS the doors.
Token POUNDS on the window.
Open the fucking DOOR, BITCH!
(pulls out her gun)
He raises the chair,
and SMASHES it into the driver’s side window,
SHATTERING it. Glass SPRAYS.
April FLINGS the door open,
LEAPS OUT, and KICKS him, WHACK!
He FLIES backward. THUD.
He gets up, chair now gone,
holding his chained wrists apart,
like a weapon.
I’m gonna KILL you.
April SHOOTS him in the head. BANG.
It EXPLODES in a cloud of red mist.
Not if I kill you first.
Asshole. Now I gotta clean this up.
INT. HOLLYWOOD HILLS MANSION - NIGHT - AT THAT MOMENT
Hamad sits at the bar, sips from a cut-glass rock glass.
(to the husband)
(holds up the bottle)
Make a note of it.
Kamal nods. He starts pacing, looks worried.
Hamad opens up a cigar box. Takes one out. Sniffs it.
Cuban. Help yourself.
He GRABS a fistful.
SHOVES them in his pocket.
Damn right I help myself.
Hamad shoves one in his mouth.
Starts to light it.
You’re supposed to cut the --
SHUT UP. I know how to smoke CIGAR.
He BITES OFF the end.
SPITS IT out. Sticks it back in.
FIRES it up. He leans back, smiling.
I am concerned about the --
So we have to wait a bit.
We are comfortable. I trust Avi.
He comes recommended most highly.
Trophy Wife starts quietly sobbing.
One of the guards, SAAD,
grins a brown, broken-tooth smile.
She soiled herself, oh holy one.
The other guard, MOHAMMED, nods solemnly.
She smell like wet camel in hot sun.
Please sir, if you have any decency,
would you please let her get cleaned up
and change into some fresh clothes.
We’re cooperating with you.
(takes off his watch)
Here, take my watch. It’s a Rolex.
It’s worth twenty-five-thousand dollars.
Saad SNATCHES the watch, brings it to Hamad.
He inspects it, smiles, slips it on.
Take the woman to her room,
let her shower and change.
And then I have sex with her?
We all will. It is,
how they say in the States --
INT. MERCEDES SUV - MOVING - NIGHT - AT THAT MOMENT
April drives down Sunset Boulevard west, into Hollywood.
She pulls out Token’s tracking device,
a small, hand-held PDA.
She FLICKS it on. Looks at the screen.
Bingo. They’re only a mile or two away.
As the car takes a turn,
another car SWERVES toward her.
Her focus momentarily away from the road,
she doesn’t see it, and the cars SIDESWIPE
each other with a CRUNCH.
The other car pulls over. April keeps going.
Shit, shit, shit.
A siren WHOOPS behind her.
She checks out the rearview.
IN THE MIRROR
Is an LAPD black and white cruiser.
Cherry lights FLASHING.
Pulls over. Stops.
Rolls down her window.
Great. Just great.
A GRIM OFFICER approaches the car.
Leans in the window.
License, registration and
proof of insurance, please.
April goes into her handbag,
hands the officer her papers.
Then shows him her ID.
I realize leaving the scene of an accident
is a serious offense, officer,
but I’m a Homeland Security agent,
and this is a matter of national security.
I need to retrieve a runaway suitcase nuke.
He takes the ID. Inspects it. Hmmm.
April is puzzled, as this normally
opens doors faster than a naked woman.
Then she notices the tattoo
on the side of his neck.
Strictly against LAPD regulations.
Would you please
step out of the car, Miss?
Sure thing, officer.
She slowly opens the door,
and SMASHES it into his legs.
He BUCKLES, hits the ground.
April DASHES over, GRABS his piece,
and KARATE KICKS him in the head with a CRACK.
He goes down.
April retrieves her ID,
still clenched in the officer’s fist.
The other officer gets out the squad car,
starts FIRING at her.
April LEAPS in front of the SUV,
and RETURNS FIRE.
Sledge didn’t waste any time.
A HELICOPTER appears overhead.
April looks up.
Whoah. He’s REALLY mad --