Monday, September 19, 2011
Once An Outlaw
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In Chapter 26 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, private eye Carrie Love hides out at her favorite dive bar to drink away her sorrows ... and then gets a phone call from homicide detective Bernie Keko, who has some shocking news ...
INT. DIVE BAR - MORNING
Paul Anka’s shaken-not-stirred cover of
BLACKHOLE SUN coos on the jukebox.
Behind the bar, Axel cleans a glass.
Carrie sits on a stool with a beer and a shot.
Looks like death warmed over.
Brittle. Lost. Haunted.
So I guess you’re a regular now.
More like an 'irregular.'
So you have the day off
from the detective thing?
Hey. Like the sign says,
‘get the day started right.’
I might look like an asshole shit-kicker,
but I’m a good listener.
At least my girlfriend says so --
Wanna tell me about it?
Carrie drinks the amber liquid.
SLAMS the shot glass down.
Keep ‘em coming.
I didn’t mean to pry.
You just look like you
could use a friend.
She DOWNS it.
CRACKS the glass on the bar.
(sips her beer)
Well, let’s see.
First, my girlfriend left the country
without saying goodbye,
then a one-night stand hired me
to find out who killed her husband,
so I just HAD to fuck her receptionist --
and then, OH YEAH,
my fucking HOUSE BURNED DOWN,
and I LOST EVERYTHING,
so I BEAT THE SHIT outta
the guy who did it,
and ALMOST KILLED him.
(DOWNS the shot)
Ahhhhh. Get the day started right.
Oh, yeah -- jail was nice, too.
That’s some fucked-up shit.
She points at the shot glass.
Maybe you should slow it down a bit.
You have any breakfast yet?
(off her silence)
How ‘bout I fix you a cheeseburger?
Get somethin’ in yer belly.
That would be -- really nice of you.
Axel nods. Shuffles into the back.
Carrie crumples. About to lose it.
Her cell RINGS.
She fishes it out. Listens.
INT./EXT - UNMARKED CAR - MOVING - CONTINUOUS
Aya drives. Bernie speaks on the car phone. White-faced.
Bernie. How’s tricks?
Oh, that’s right, tricks are for chicks.
Not so good, Carrie.
The ballistics report shows
your gun killed Flender.
You mean the Magnum?
(mumbles, to herself)
So it didn’t just disappear.
I knew someone fucking took it.
The revolving door on your bedroom
won’t work as an alibi, Carrie.
We have a big problem.
We always had a problem, Bernie.
Except the sex was so fucking good --
We can do this one of two ways.
You can turn yourself in, now --
and I’ll get the best fucking deal
I can for you, I promise.
And the second way?
You don’t want that.
It’s not pretty.
As Steve Martin said,
Comedy isn’t pretty.
And you’re forgetting the third way.
It’s called --
Eat shit and DIE, motherfucker.
She CLICKS the phone shut.
Bernie hangs up. Dials another number.
You get the location?
I told you.
You should have let me talk to her.
Now we don’t know where she is.
Shut THE FUCK up.
That’s my EX-WIFE,
who’s now a fugitive from the law.
You still have feelings for her.
PUSH IN ON Bernie. In denial.
Shut the fuck up and drive.
IN THE BAR
Carrie wolfs down the greasy burger.
Axel watches, proud.
The secret is what I put in the meat.
Some pepper, ground onion --
and Tabasco sauce.
If I wasn’t on the lam,
I’d fuck your brains out.
On -- the lam?
I’ve been fingered.
Someone framed me for murder.
So now I have to go underground.
Shit. What do I do with my car --
That’s a tough break.
Hey. I live right down the block.
And I have an empty garage.
I keep my hog in the living room
where it’s warm.
You’d -- do that for me?
Did five years in Ossining.
Gang fight with another cycle club.
Ruled justifiable homicide,
but I had a kilo of smack in the saddle bag.
Left the club after I got sprung.
Too old for that shit anymore.
He pours two shots.
They lift them in a toast.
Once an outlaw, always an outlaw.
Something like that --
And they DOWN THEM.