Tuesday, July 24, 2012

The Way Of The Cunt


Happy Tuesday, 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 11 of LEGS, Episode Two, porn star Laura Lang arrives at the Ritz Carlton in the Marina for a 'lunch date,' and causes quite a stir. Meanwhile, Carrie, Bernie and Meg break into the Israeli mobster's joint, only to discover they've escaped ...


EXT. RITZ CARLTON HOTEL - DAY
A giant stone edifice to wealth and power,
right on the marina.

A cluster of Beamers, Benzes and Bentleys
are parked in front awaiting their glitzy owners.

A pea-green piece-of-shit
Dodge Dart Swinger
pulls up to the entrance.

EXT. RITZ CARLTON HOTEL - ENTRANCE - DAY
Laura gets out of the Dodge.

She’s garishly made-up,
wearing a more-than-daring
black cocktail dress,
towering in six-inch bondage heels.

She hands her keys
to the OFFICIOUS VALET (20’s),
who looks at her wide-eyed
as he hands her a ticket.

LAURA
Be sure not to scratch it, love
(beat)
Ah, so you’re a fan.
If I had a dollar for every time
you jerked off to one of my movies,
I could afford to stay here.

A RICH COUPLE (40’s)
waiting for their car stare at her.

Officious Valet angrily
pulls out a walkie talkie.

INT. NURI’S CONDO - FRONT DOOR - CORRIDOR - DAY
Bernie and a pair of UNIFORMED OFFICERS
carrying shotguns stand nearby.

Carrie and Megan stand back
near the entrance to the stairs.
Bernie POUNDS on the door.

BERNIE
POLICE.
Open the door or we’re COMING IN.

Silence.

One of the uniforms,
a tall, hulking brute,
looks at Bernie.
He nods.

Hulking steps back
and KICKS the door in.
They all RUSH IN --

INT. NURI’S CONDO - LIVING ROOM - DAY
To find it empty.
Bernie nods at the uniforms.

BERNIE
Go check the bedrooms.

CARRIE
I’ll show you the closet
where we were tied up.
Our DNA’s gotta be
all over the place.
(off his look)
God, you’ve got a dirty mind.

INT. RITZ CARLTON HOTEL - BAR - DAY
A JAZZ TRIO (40’s) plays in the corner over --
Very plush, with understated elegance.

A smattering of HOTEL GUESTS
and RICH LOCALS enjoy their liquid lunch.

Laura takes a seat at the end,
away from the BARTENDER (20’s)
a preppy Tommy Hilfiger wannabe
in khakis and polo shirt.

She checks her watch.
Scans the crowd for her ‘date.’

In the background we see Officious Valet
and the STUFFY HOTEL MANAGER (40’s).

Officious points at her.
Stuffy nods.

Laura leans forward,
tries to get Preppy’s attention,
but he’s chatting up a
tipsy COUGAR DIVORCEE (40’s).

Laura waves at him,
trying to get his attention.

Preppy sees her out of
the corner of his eye.
Ignores her.

LAURA
Who do I haveta blow
to getta fucking DRINK around here?

The hushed conversations stop.
The band looks, keeps playing.

BARTENDER
Excuse me?

LAURA
Excuse yourself.
Just get Cat On A Hot Tin Roof’s
phone number and bring me a COCKTAIL, darling.
My cooch is so parched it could
give the Sahara a run for it’s money.

An OLDER COUPLE (60’s) near her look.
It’s obvious from the way the HUSBAND
is staring that he recognizes her.

LAURA (CONT’D)
(to the wife)
Looks like your hubby’s a big fan.
(off her look, to him)
So what’s your favorite film of mine?
'The Way Of The Cunt?'
'Jungle Beaver?'
'The Color of Runny?'

Their grey faces turn red.
They get up and shuffle away.
Preppy glides over to her.

PREPPY BARTENDER
Could you keep it down, please?
You’re starting to bother our guests.

LAURA
Starting to bother?
(off his look)
I’ll have a Jack and Coke,
heavy on the Jack,
light on the Coke --

No comments:

Post a Comment