Friday, July 15, 2011
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.
In Chapter 16 of LEGS, private eye Carrie Love meets with her ex-partner and ex-husband, homicide detective Bernie Keko, who asks her to identify Meg's dead body. Meanwhile, demented German snuff filmmaker Klaus Speer watches the video he shot of her murder ...
EXT. PERRY'S BEACH CAFE - DAY
A burger stand at Santa Monica beach.
Keko sits at a table sipping coffee,
watching the flesh parade.
EXT. VENICE BEACH BIKE PATH - CONTINUOUS
Loud, catchy girrrl-punk.
Carrie skates like a bat out of hell to the music.
A demon vision in a barely-there bikini.
Dangerous curves, indeed.
Men pass her, do double-takes.
A BICYCLIST wipes out.
But she's oblivious.
On a mission from God.
a group of overweight TOURISTS
block the path.
On your left!
Startled, confused, they each move
in different directions.
Carrie almost falls,
barely squeezes through.
(over her shoulder)
Touristas! Go back to Pepperidge Farm!
She continues north. Pumps harder.
Do you believe in karma?
Megan has fucking disappeared.
When I went to her house
this morning to apologize,
I found another fucking crime scene.
Poor Bosco got it right between the eyes.
No disclaimer about animals
not being harmed on this beat.
And this is only the middle of act two.
Lately I feel like the cops should
just put that yellow tape around my life.
CLOSE ON --
A tear trickles down below her shades.
Please. You gotta forgive me --
I'm the hero, remember?
You're supposed to root for me.
Don’t give up on me yet.
EXT. PERRY'S BEACH CAFE - CONTINUOUS
Carrie glides onto the patio.
Spots Keko. Wheels over.
Good 'ol Bernie, still looks
ridiculous in plainclothes.
I hope for his sake he's packing.
It's open season on my ex's.
She WHOOSHES up to his table.
Stops on a dime.
Good day, officer. This seat taken?
Do you have a license for that bikini?
I might have to give you a citation.
For what? 'Reckless tan lines?'
She sits. Grabs his cup of coffee.
Takes a sip.
You don't mind, do you?
I never did, did I.
She blows her nose into a napkin.
Thanks for coming.
I'm sorry about the
scene at the station -- I was --
You don't need to explain,
Carrie, it's okay.
I mean, after all you've been through --
I shouldn't have brought her along.
You should show your
soft side more often.
It's very appealing.
(lights a cigarette)
Then as long as everyone
around me keeps dying,
I'll be fucking irresistible.
Keko takes a smoke.
She gives him a light.
I thought you quit.
You know, we still don't
have a positive I.D.
on the dead female at Point Dume.
It might not be her.
But she was a cop,
for chrissakes. They know her.
It's not so easy -- they, uh --
cut off her hands -- and, uh --
Carrie JERKS, drops her cigarette
in Bernie’s coffee. Pssst.
We were wondering if she
had any -- uh, you know --
You need my I.D.
She looks away.
Bites her lip.
Thanks -- but sorry
doesn't even begin to cover it.
INT. KLAUS' PRODUCTION STUDIO - DUSK
Klaus, Felina, Samms and Jorel
sit at a large conference table,
watching a big screen expectantly.
I love dailies.
But these are nightlies.
Everyone is riveted.
Except Felina, pale, uneasy.
See the look on her face?
The unspeakable horror --
She knows she is about to die.
Beautiful. Just beautiful.