Thursday, August 11, 2011
Only The Real Tuna Gets To Be Star-Fucked
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 31 of LEGS, private eye Carrie Love and super-spy Felina Bella Donna are being held captive by snuff filmmaker Klaus Speer in his dungeon, when suddenly they get a visit from 'assassin to the stars' The Bagger ...
INT. KLAUS' BASEMENT DUNGEON - NIGHT
Carrie's eyes flicker. She fights the drug.
Why did you do it, Klaus?
What the fuck did Laura do
that put over the edge, huh?
Was it because she left you?
I can't believe a big, Teutonic stud
like you would freak out over
losing a little snatch.
Carrie, I don't think --
Shut up! I wanna know!
I was just living my life,
doing my job, catching a few bad guys,
fucking up a few marriages,
fucking my chick -- and this fuck,
this Nazi prick has to fucking
CUT OFF her fucking head!
I wanna know WHY.
Klaus wipes his forehead.
His skin is darker. Mottled.
You women think you're so smart.
That you're better than us.
That you have power over us --
because you control when we have sex.
Well the joke's on you, Miss Legs.
I bet you had no idea.
No idea of what.
No idea of what.
You sure you want to know?
Tell me, you fucking stormtrooper!
You really sure?
I don't think you could handle it.
No, no, no -- you freak out, that's for sure.
Just tell me. Please.
Okay. But don't say I didn't warn you.
Well, you see -- the funny thing is,
your little Laura?
Used to be called LARRY.
He makes a “snip-snip” motion at his crotch.
How the hell did you know about that?
Only the real tuna get to be star-fucked.
So that’s why you flipped out.
You’re not the cutting edge of kink,
you’re a just a garden-variety homophobe!
An urgent KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK at the door.
Klaus, it's me, Ziva! Open up!
This is not a good time,
my little petunia. Come back later.
Klaus! It's a fucking emergency!
That crackhead Roz grabbed the cash box,
and now he's up in the DJ booth with a gun!
(pulls out his piece)
I'll be right there!
(to the women)
You two stay put.
And don't forget the camera is rolling.
I'd hate to see this become a short subject.
He goes to the door. RIPS it open.
Ziva in the doorway.
Klaus, run! It's a trap --
A knife flashes. SLITS HER THROAT.
She falls with a THUD.
The Bagger appears.
Waving a red-smeared butcher knife.
Put 'em where I can see 'em, Speer.
And relax your sphincter muscles,
cause I'm coming in.
He licks blood off the knife.
THE BAGGER (CONT'D)
Mmm, low T-cell count. Delicious.
Norman. Now this is a pleasant surprise.
Please come in. I hope you're still not mad at me.
The Bagger sees the women. The set.
The camera. Walks around.
I'm sorry to disrupt your creative process,
Speer, but we're going on a little trip.
Everybody FREEZE! You're under arrest!
stands in the doorway.
With a pair of sawed-off shotguns.
I swear, either one of you so much as fart,
and I'll fucking blow your dick off.
Why is everybody so preoccupied with my willy?
Get on the fucking floor, now!
appears next to Valentine.
With a pair of service revolvers.
You heard the officer, DO IT.
They lie down.
O'Henry, you motherfucker.
Glad you could make it.
Hey, what are partners for.
I finished the puzzle.