Thursday, June 14, 2012
The Strong, Silent Type
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 24 of BLUE HOTEL, panic sets in when hipster hooker Alona Tal learns that the 'associates' of her drug dealer boyfriend Beggar Leck who were supposed to come and get rid of the dead body in her hotel room were killed trying to rob a dungeon earlier that evening ...
INT. ALONA’S SHITTY HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
Groovy space-dub from Thievery Corporation
softly thump-thumps on the boom box.
Alona sits on the window sill.
Lights a joint. Takes a big hit.
Holds it in. Exhales.
(looks at the bed)
How you doing under there, Oscar?
Feeling a bit -- stiff?
The strong, silent type, huh?
A light RAP-RAP-RAP on the door.
Alona, it’s me.
Come on in, it’s not locked.
The door OPENS.
In walks Beggar and Lief.
Beggar closes it.
Locks the door behind him.
Smiles sadly at Alona.
(looks at Lief)
Hey, there. Uh --
That’s right, River’s brother.
Funny. I’ve NEVER heard that before.
So where’s the -- you know.
Under the bed.
Thank god you’re here.
I’ve been going fucking stir crazy.
Can you call your friend,
see if he can come sooner?
Yeah. Good idea.
(pulls out his phone)
Can I get a hit of that?
Alona nods. Hands him the joint. He takes a big hit.
Passes it to Lief. Punches in a number. Listens.
EXT. WAREHOUSE/FETISH CLUB - NIGHT
A few PATROL CARS are parked in front,
cherry lights FLASHING.
A CORONER’S OFFICE TECH wheels a body on a gurney
toward a waiting ambulance.
A SURLY HOMICIDE DETECTIVE (40’s) watches.
Lights up a smoke.
A phone RINGS in the body bag.
Coroner Tech stops. Looks.
SURLY HOMICIDE DICK
Let me answer it. It could be a lead.
Sure thing, Dell.
Coroner Tech unzips the bag.
We see it’s Vlad’s. Dead and bloody.
Dell fishes around in his pockets,
pulls out the phone.
Puts it to his ear. Listens.
Who is this?
Vlad? You’re not Vlad.
No, I’m not. Vlad’s dead. Who is THIS?
Vlad’s DEAD? Who is THIS?
Homicide detective Dell Magid.
I’d like to ask you a few questions --
INT. ALONA’S SHITTY HOTEL ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Beggar SNAPS his phone shut.
Looks at Alona, wild-eyed.
Vlad’s DEAD? What happened?
I don’t know. It was a fucking COP.
He was supposed to come here
and help us with our --
(looks at the bed)
So what the fuck are we going to do NOW?
Guess we’re gonna have to
take care of it ourselves.
A soft KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK on the door.
Alona, it’s me, Holly.
Beggar goes to the door. Opens it.
Holly comes in. Looks scared. Lost.
More than a little freaked out.
She races over to Alona.
Grabs her in a hug. Shaking.
Baby, what’s wrong?
Wait a minute, where’s Feo?
What THE FUCK?
(pulls away, wipes her eyes)
He ran away, and I-I chased after him,
but he got on a bike, and-and,
he was getting away, and I, I --
Jesus fucking Christ on a stick.
It’s okay. Nobody saw us.
Did you at least get his money?
Yeah. Eighty bucks.
Well, that’s just great.
We can go on that trip
we’ve been planning.
You’re a psycho, you know that?
What’s the body count now? THREE PEOPLE?
Leave her alone.
Yelling at her isn’t going to help.
And I thought I had problems --
A sharp RAP-RAP-RAP on the door.
Alona, it’s me, Gill. Let me in.
I’ve been -- hurt.
This is unbelievable.
What the fuck is this, Grand Central Station?
He goes to the door. Unlocks it. Gill stumbles in.
A filthy rag is tied around his foot. Oozing blood.
What happened to your foot?
Gill goes to the bed. Sits. Looks at the wound.
It’s -- oh my god.
Donna caught me with her purse.
Pulled a gun on me. We struggled for it.
She got me in the foot. We fought, and --
I shot her.
Is she -- dead?
You killed someone TOO?
You guys should start a club.
At least MY dead body was accidental.
Shut up. I need to think --
Holly goes to the kitchenette.
Pours herself a cup of vodka.
Looks at Alona. She nods.
Pour me one, too?
Holly nods. Looks at Beggar.
She pours the drinks.
Brings them over.
Everyone takes one. They sip.
Look at each other nervously.
We’re gonna have to do it ourselves.
Dispose of the body.
Uh, count me out.
I’m just going to go back to my room and --
Fuck that. You’re not going ANYWHERE.
We’re all in this together, GOT IT?
Everyone stares at each other.
Miserable. Freaked out.
Alona drains her cup.
Walks over to the kitchenette.
Pours another. Turns.
Looks at the room. Eyes blazing.
Okay. We’re gonna need something
to cut Oscar up with.
A hack saw, butcher’s knife --
(sips her drink)
Anybody got any ideas?