Thursday, March 15, 2012
There's No Place Like Home
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 the next-to-last chapter of BABY HEISTER, our dysfunctional family of criminals make their desperate escape from the cops ... and make it to their hideout on a houseboat, where a shocking family secret is revealed ...
INT. VW BUS - DAY
Simon sits behind the wheel.
Jo sits next to him.
Doc and Kelsey sit in the back with the money,
which is now a massive amount.
Doc closes the curtains on the back windows.
Okay, let’s go.
Simon starts the engine.
Drives out of the parking lot --
just as a trio of SQUAD CARS, lights FLASHING,
sirens BLARING pass by them,
ROAR over to the truck and SCREECH to a halt.
EXT. MARINA PARKING LOT - DAY
A BEEFY COP opens the back door to the semi,
revealing the Dumpster.
Darryl Rooker looks out his window.
Sees it. Nods.
Call the Marina Sheriffs.
Have them seal off the channel.
But what if they’re already at sea?
Then call the Coast Guard.
Have them stop EVERY BOAT.
I’ll call the FBI.
Have them send some choppers.
EXT. HOUSEBOAT - DAY
An old, wooden, two-story joint
from an era gone by.
It would be kinda quaint if it didn’t
look like it was falling apart.
But it’s still oddly homey-looking.
INT. HOUSEBOAT - LIVING ROOM - DAY
‘That Seventies Boat.’ All knotty pine.
Curtains drawn. Stuffed with old furniture.
Hanging plants. Nautical shit.
Doc, Jo, Kelsey and Simon walk around,
inspecting the joint.
This is so COOL.
We can hole up here for good long while.
Zulf stocked the fridge and the pantry.
We got satellite TV, a full bar.
I’ll do some cleaning and spruce the place up.
It’ll feel like home.
(smiles at Kelsey)
Kelsey will help me. Won’t you, hun?
Sure. Of course.
C’mon, let me show you the galley.
Okay. Let me close the door.
(walks toward the door)
It’s starting to get a bit --
Appears in the doorway.
A bloody mess. He GRABS Kelsey.
JAMS his gun against her head.
Ducks down behind the couch.
Smiles at Kelsey.
Getting a bit nippy out.
Bet your nippies are nice and hard.
Put the gun down, Flint.
Let’s talk about this.
There’s nothing to talk about, old man.
NOBODY crosses me, GOT it?
You can have the money.
Just let go of her.
Take me instead.
A GUN WITH A SILENCER
appears next to Flint’s head.
Get your hands off my fucking DAUGHTER.
Reveal JO. Gripping the weapon.
Quivering with rage.
THWIP. THWIP. THWIP.
Flint’s head EXPLODES.
His body hits the floor, THWUNK.
She looks at the body.
Shudders. Looks up, eyes bright with tears.
It’s a long story.
I was forty.
Still the con artist about town.
Didn’t want to be -- tied down.
Chelle couldn’t have kids.
We thought it would -- calm them down.
(mumbles to himself)
They were so reckless.
We were going to tell you.
We were just waiting for the right --
After the funeral -- seemed too soon.
Then we both kept --
Putting it off --
And here we are.
Kelsey stares at them.
Speechless. In shock.
Asshole must have left a
trail of blood leading right to us.
(off their looks)
I’ll go outside and clean it up.
Darryl Rooker appears in the doorway.
Aiming his gun.
Like following a trail of bread crumbs.
What was that old fairy tail?
Doc Hazard. We meet at last.
I’m tingly all over.
Darryl reaches into his jacket
for his cell phone.
Nobody move a muscle.
I’m gonna call for back up.
Everybody stares while he dials.
Listens. Makes a face.
Godammit. No reception --
(pulls hers out)
Wanna use mine?
He looks at her. Then the phone.
Yeah. Just don’t try any --
FAST AS LIGHTNING
she SMASHES IT in his face, CRACK.
GRABS his head.
BANGS it against the wall.
And again. And again. SCREAMS.
Lets go. His body hits the floor, THUMP.
She stares at Doc and Jo.
A tear slides down her cheek --
TO BE CONTINUED