Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Hey there, crime kids. Happy Hump Day. 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 3 of BLUE HOTEL, after fucking schoolteacher Gill Sherry, hooker Alona Tal visits boozy screenwriter Holly Land's room, and invites her to have a drink at the sleazy hotel bar. Meanwhile, Alona's squeeze, drug dealing Begger Leck, travels to the Long Beach docks to pick up his 'latest shipment' ...
INT. HOLLY’S SHITTY HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
Holly sits at her desk, typing on her laptop.
She stops. Takes a sip of vodka.
Stares at the screen.
She gets up.
Takes the picture off the wall.
Presses her ear against the vent.
That’s so FUCKING GOOD --
Holly grabs her drink.
Drains it. Listens.
EXT. LONG BEACH - HARBOR - NIGHT - AT THAT MOMENT
An old, battered red BMW convertible pulls up
to a decrepit warehouse. Parks. Beggar gets out.
Walks over to a doorway.
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCKS on it.
A small window OPENS.
A nasty-looking EUROTRASH THUG (30’S)
looks at him through the glass.
Grins a decayed smile. The door OPENS.
So nice of you to drop by.
Vlad. Looking dapper as usual.
INT. WAREHOUSE - CONTINUOUS
Beggar and Vlad walk over to a makeshift table
made out of a piece of plywood on two saw horses.
A suitcase is on it. Open. Inside,
a dozen plastic bags filled with white powder.
A GREASY THUG (20’S)
grins at Beggar.
Look. Is Power-Seller.
Nice to see you too, Sasha.
Sasha takes out a packet.
TOSSES it to Beggar.
I assume you want usual deal?
You know my credit is good.
I’ll be able to move this in a week, tops.
You do more thinking about
coming to work for us full-time?
I’ll have to get back to you on that.
Kinda like being my own boss.
That may be.
But as part of organization,
you have protection.
And are part of family.
Not sure I’m into -- family values.
INT. HOLLY’S SHITTY HOTEL ROOM - AT THAT MOMENT
Holly sits at her desk.
Staring at her laptop.
She pours the last of the
vodka bottle into her cup.
Makes a face.
A soft TAP-TAP-TAP at the door.
Alona glides into the room.
How did you guess?
Uh -- lucky?
You look so sad.
Writing’s not -- going well.
(sees the empty bottle)
Well, now wonder.
You gotta dead soldier.
Come on down to the bar with me
and take a break. Keep me company.
(pulls out cash)
It’s on me.
Gotta straight flush.
I dunno --
C’mon, I won’t bite. I promise.
Unless you want me to --