Friday, May 13, 2011
Make My Grande
Hey there, crime kids. Happy fucking FRIDAY. Are you ready for the weak-end? Then 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.
Due to technical problems, Blogger didn't put yesterday's chapter up, so I'm re-posting it today ...
In chapter 7 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, homicide detectives Carrie Love and Bernie Keko go for coffee and get served by future serial-killer-to-be Sparkle Plenty, who decides she has 'plans for them.' We then flash back to Sparkle's troubled childhood, where she was a child beauty pageant victim ...
INT. THE COFFEE BEAN CAFE - DAY
Sparkle stands behind the counter
in uniform getting training
from the MANAGER, a flaming queen.
I’m the bastard, inbred offspring
of trailer trash from a town so poor,
Sunday dinner was the junkyard cat.
Let me guess. I’d say you’re from --
the east coast. Massachusetts, Connecticut.
One of those Kennedy states.
That’s -- horrible.
You’re kidding me, right?
Her smile betrays nothing.
A phone rings in the back.
I’m from Hyannisport, actually.
But how did you --
Ring. Ring. Ring --
You better get that.
It could be Stephen Cannell’s office
with a big order.
(as he leaves)
Yeah -- uh, just help out the customers.
I’ll be right back.
(low, to herself)
Go ahead. Make my gran-day.
Carrie and Bernie walk in.
They glow in a dreamy amber light,
glide in slow-motion.
Well, fuck me bloody and
hang me on a cross -- they’re perfect.
CARRIE AND BERNIE - REAL TIME
come up to the counter.
I think you set a record
for having your cover blown, doll-face.
Stuff it, Bernie, I’m not in the mood.
Larry put me on this case,
so just back off, boogalo.
The little twerp owned the building
where we found that dead, tortured
yoga teacher in the basement dungeon.
I tailed the fucker for a week,
but he was clean.
I coulda sworn he never saw me.
I’ll have a grande mochachino
with a triple bullshot, please.
Sparkle nods, writes it down.
Drink much caffeine?
Mind your own fucking business. Order.
Yes, officer -- what can I get you?
Officer? How did you know I was --
That haircut? Those shoes?
This is the Sunset Strip, mister.
Where’d you buy that suit?
Ross Dress for Less?
Wait a minute, let me guess.
Coffee. Black. Four sugars.
Don’t worry, this is a
donut joke-free zone.
She smiles strangely,
goes to the coffee machine.
Uh -- no, wait --
(looks at menu above)
I’ll have a -- decaf iced latte,
Sparkle reacts like she’s been stabbed.
Shut up. It’s hot out,
I want something cool.
And I’m buying. How much?
(mumbles to herself)
I’m not your little lady.
I said -- that’ll be seven-eighty.
INT. SPARKLE’S TRAILER - FLASHBACK - DAY
Title card reads SIX YEARS EARLIER.
Dot yells at Roscoe, waves a receipt in his face.
Seven-eighty? For a pack of smokes?
We were celebratin,
I won the Camelot super-buck scratch-off.
Jimmy said Dunhills were the best.
Said the Rock smokes ‘em.
The Rock! The Fucking Rock?!
You and your dumb-ass loser friends!
No wonder we’re fuckin’ broke!
She grabs a saucepan off the stove.
Greasy food splatters.
Hey -- be careful with that.
Let fuckin’ Jimmy fix yer supper!
She flings the pan at him.
He ducks, runs away --
as it hits the wall with a CLANG,
food spraying everywhere.
Fucking crazy, psycho cunt!
Dot chases after him, into --
INT. TRAILER - LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
But Roscoe’s gone. The front door
swings open in the breeze.
Dot holds her head,
the sudden movement causing a reaction.
Whoa, head rush.
(sits on the couch, calls out)
Sparkle? You dressed yet?
Mommy wants to see her little beauty queen.
Sparkle (10) appears as if by magic.
Painted, tarted up. Very Jon-Benet.
Holding a tiara.
I hate it when you guys fight.
Never mind that.
Put on the crown.
I wanna see how it looks
on my pretty little princess.
Looks like she’s about to cry.
Now that’s my little lady.
Come over here and sit on Mommy’s lap.
As if in a trance,
the little girl does. Trembling.
(strokes her hair)
That’s my little lady.
My pretty little girlie.
(hand on her thigh)
You ready for the
You been practicing
yer baton twirlin’?
(off her terrified nod)
That’s a good girl.
Such a good girl.
(hand goes up her dress)
My little lady.
My pretty little doll --