Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Where's The Funeral?
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 8 of HIT & RUN HOLIDAY, fugitive screenwriter Friday Foster eludes mercenary Bland Loosener, who gets persued by the cops in a high-speed car chase. Meanwhile, Friday's former squeeze Carrie Love has a most unusual 'close encounter' in a dive bar ...
EXT. MARINA DEL REY - BEACH CONDO - ROOF - day
Zvi lies on a chaise getting a massage from Nymphet.
He adjust his hands-free cell. BOLTS upright.
WHAT did you say?
SPLIT SCREEN WITH:
EXT./INT. BLAND’S SUV - MOVING - CONTINUOUS
Bland SWERVES through traffic
on Ocean Avenue going south.
A CLUSTER OF SQUAD CARS follow.
There were cops all over the fuckin’ place.
You said Santa Monica was LIBERAL.
So where the fuck are you now?
In the vehicle in a high-speed chase,
and they’re chasing ME.
You stupid FUCK.
I give you a simple job to do --
Don’t worry, I have a bomb up my sleeve.
He reaches into a bag,
yanks out a GRENADE.
Pulls the pin.
LOBS it up through the sun roof,
into the air.
lands in the middle
of a trio of PATROL CARS.
BANG. A massive FIREBALL EXPLODES
in a riot of orange fire,
black clouds of smoke --
INT. BLAND’S SUV - MOVING
He turns up the volume on his hands-free.
I said, I’m going to have to charge you
for expenses. These are my personal explosives --
Bland LOBS a grenade at the Miatta -- BANG.
EXT. MARINA DEL REY - BEACH CONDO - ROOF - CONTINUOUS
Zvi pulls the earpiece out.
Stupid fuck’s gonna make me go deaf --
EXT. OCEAN AVENUE - DAY
The SUV races down the coastal boulevard.
is a ROADBLOCK.
Where did they all come from so quickly?
Looks to his right. Sees --
EXT. SANTA MONICA PIER - ENTRANCE - CONTINUOUS
He brakes hard, YANKS the wheel,
turns onto the pier --
Right into the middle of a
SWARM OF TOURISTS.
HONKS his horn.
YELLS out the window.
Civilians, out of the way! Incoming!
JABS his Uzi through the open sunroof.
SQUEEZES the trigger --
The SUV speeds up,
pushes through the wake of fleeing bodies.
A bullet CRACKS through the rear window, and
POPS out through the windshield --
Fuck me, Private.
He turns around. Looks, sees --
More SQUAD CARS. Coming right at him.
Tactical maneuvers, SIR.
Bland JAMS on the gas --
and FLIES down the pier.
follow. Sirens BLARING.
reaches into the bag.
Takes out a mouthpiece.
Like divers use for breathing underwater.
Dammit. I really like this vehicle --
EXT. SANTA MONICA PIER - CONTINUOUS
The SUV races down the boardwalk toward the water.
The cops SCREECH to a halt.
Start setting up another road block.
But the gas guzzler keeps going.
Reaches the platform at the end.
FISHERMEN dash out of the way.
INSIDE THE SUV
Bland POPS the clutch --
One-hundred and first AIRBORNE, SIR.
And SLAMS his mouthpiece in.
JERKS, and sails up, into the air
over the edge of the pier.
And, in slow motion,
like a floating feather --
It HITS the waves like a diver. GLUG.
INT. DIVE BAR - AT THAT MOMENT
Unbelievably dark. Dank. Smoky.
Concrete Blonde’s SCENE OF A PERFECT CRIME
bleeds darkness on the juke.
The BARTENDER (40’S)
wipes off a glass with a rag.
Dead ringer for Lurch.
He leans back.
SPITS chewing tobacco.
Carrie sits on a stool.
Deep in thought.
Nursing a bottle of beer.
She raises two fingers.
Lurch grabs a bottle Kessler’s.
Pours two fingers. Carrie nods.
A WOMAN IN BLACK (24)
emerges from the ladies’ room.
Tall, gaunt, pale.
Still in last night’s outfit.
An extra from Nosferatu.
Slides onto her stool.
Next to Carrie.
Where’s the funeral?
WOMAN IN BLACK
Yesterday. I’m a model.
(itches her arm)
Got to keep the dress --
Was it -- open casket?
WOMAN IN BLACK
Only for -- next of kin.
Where’s the wake?
WOMAN IN BLACK
Back at my place.
Carrie drains her glass.
It’s your funeral --