Friday, February 10, 2012
Hey there, crime kids. Happy Friday. 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 20 of BABY HEISTER, teenage heister Kelsey Hazard and the gang have successfully knocked over the armored car, but when they arrive at Freddie Fingers' farm house to divide up the loot, they're in for a deadly surprise ...
EXT. TILLY’S JOINT - DAY
A ramshackle clapboard affair sits at the end
of a long driveway surrounded by big, old oak trees.
The joint’s in serious disrepair.
Dead, brown lawn. Crumbling foundation.
Next to the house is a small barn
that looks like it’d fall over if you sneezed.
The Roto-Helper truck comes down the driveway.
Drives into the barn. Stops.
INT. BARN - DAY
Kelsey gets out of the truck.
Goes around to the back, opens the door.
Reno and Dusty get out.
Freddie steps out from the shadows
holding a shotgun. Aims it at them.
Don’t move, or I’ll SHOOT.
What the FUCK?
Asshole. I KNEW it.
You’re not gonna get away this.
Fuck you, bitch.
Now all of you take your
guns out slowly and TOSS ‘em.
Kelsey, Reno and Dusty shake their heads.
Curse under their breath.
Slowly pull out their guns.
What’s it like knowing you’re gonna die?
Shut up. Kick ‘em over here.
They kick their guns over.
You realize you’re a dead man, right?
I said SHUT UP.
One more word and I’ll
blow your fucking HEADS off.
A GUNSHOT rings out. BANG.
A hole appears in Freddie’s forehead.
He falls over, THWUMP.
They turn and look, see --
Standing in the doorway.
Holding a giant chrome handgun.
Wicked smile on his lips. Chuckling.
Sorry to crash the party.
(off Kelsey’s shocked look)
Hey there, darlin.’
Don’t suppose you’d like to
ride off into the sunset with me.
(waves the gun at them)
Start unloading the dough, fellas.
Then your gonna put it in my van outside.
GUNSHOTS ring out.
BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.
Five RED HOLES appear in his white T-shirt.
He looks down at them --
What the --
And HITS the ground. THWUMP.
Stands in the doorway behind him.
Holding a small handgun.
You shot my FREDDIE.
Tilly. Calm down. He’s not with us.
He wasn’t part of the plan, I swear.
Yeah. Don’t shoot, don’t shoot.
SHUT UP. I gotta THINK.
BANG. Her head EXPLODES IN A RED MIST.
Kelsey JUMPS. SCREAMS.
Stands behind her
holding a sawed-off shotgun.
Didn’t think I’d let you
do the job without a chaperone, did ya?
Looks like I got here just in time.
No shit. Freddie tried a cross --
(points at Ray)
And this fella shot him.
Doc goes over to Ray’s body.
Pull out his wallet.
Bastard been sniffin’ around since the wake.
(opens the wallet, looks)
The guy’s a fucking COP.
Detective Charles Willis,
LA Robbery Homicide.
You know what that means?
Yeah. They’re onto us.
But he wasn’t arresting us.
He was gonna TAKE THE DOUGH.
Yeah, but the cops still know about us.
He was playing along like
he was investigating us --
then he was gonna take
the dough and disappear.
So when word gets out about the can
getting knocked over --
Dead cop? Gonna be a shit storm.
Kelsey stares. Numb.
White a ghost.
Doc looks at her.
Don’t worry. We’re gonna be okay.
I’ve been planning for this day a long time.
(off her nod)
Take a deep breath.
She gulps down air.
Stares at the bodies.
You can freak out later.
Right now we gotta focus.
So what are we gonna do about the bodies?
I say we torch the joint.
Reno and Dusty nod.
Head toward the house.
C’mon. Let’s move the truck.
I gotta call Jo.
Kelsey nods. They get in,
Kelsey behind the wheel.
She starts backing it out of the barn.
IN THE TRUCK
Kelsey stops in the driveway.
Go change the signs.
Put the old ones in the barn, okay?
She nods. Starts to get out.
Stops. Stares at Doc. In shock.
You gotta trust me.
We’ll make it through this.
I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. Okay?
Eyes bright with tears. Gets out.
Doc pulls out his cell.
Punches a number. Listens.
INT. DOC’S FARMHOUSE - KITCHEN - DAY
Jo stands at the wall phone,
holding the receiver to her ear.
It’s D-day. No time to explain.
Call Brub at the airport.
Charter a plane for us to LAX.
Then call Crutch,
have a limo waiting for us there.
Then drive the stash to the loft downtown.
We’ll meet you there. Okay?
Got it. Is everybody okay?
Yeah. Don’t pack anything.
You gotta leave immediately.
Okay? Love you.
Okay. Love you.
She hangs up.
Goes to the stove.
Turns it off.
Sorry, pot roast --