A Well-Oiled Machine

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 9 of THE HEISTERS, ringleader Ronan Kelly visits wheelman Jefty Jones and hired muscle Kaspar Garza at the sleazy motel they're holed up until the heat's off to tell them the bad news about the haul from the heist being stolen ...


EXT. THE MATADOR MOTEL - DAY
A seedy ‘sex motel’ on the outskirts of Santa Monica.
Beyond sleazy-looking.

The usual assortment of street trash
loiter outside.

A sign reads NO VACAN Y.
A cab pulls up and parks at the sidewalk.

INT. CAB - DAY
Ronan leans over the divider.
Shows the BORED CABBIE a fifty-dollar bill.

He RIPS it in two.
Hands him half.

RONAN
Wait for me and you get the rest.

BORED CABBIE
How long you gonna be?

RONAN
Five minutes, tops.

BORED CABBIE
(looks at the motel)
You’re FAST.

RONAN
It’s business, buster.

BORED CABBIE
Yeah, right.
And I’m Donald Trump --

INT. MATADOR MOTEL - SHITTY ROOM - DAY
A ridiculous ‘theme room’ made up to
look like a medieval castle cell.

But the ‘stones’ on the wallpaper
are peeling.

Two MEN sit on the bed watching TV.
A pizza box lays between them.

They both take swigs
from forties of malt liquor.

Take hits from a joint
they pass back and forth.

LARGE BLACK GUY
DAMN, that’s some serious SHIT.
Saturday Night Fever blew the
fucking nigger’s BRAINS out --

Meet JEFTY JONES (28),
massive muscle-for-hire.

Former gang-banger,
now working his way up the ladder.

Precision driver.
Chip on his shoulder
the size of a Escalade.

HISPANIC GUY
I can’t believe you never
seen this shit, homes --
(passes the joint)
Tarantino is THE MAN.
You ever seen JACKIE BROWN?

Meet KASPER GARZA (25),
former Mexican drug cartel runner.

Decided he liked LA better.
Bulky fireplug. Wannabe boxer.

But partied too much.
Could be Luis Guzman’s little brother.

JEFTY
(takes the joint)
I seen dat.
Pam Grier got BACK.

A soft knock-knock-knock at the door.
They both pull out GUNS.

Kasper hops off the bed.
Tip-toes up to the door.

Nods at Jefty, who’s got
his weapon aimed. He nods.

KASPER
Who’s there?

RONAN (O.C.)
The Good Humor man.
Open up.

KASPER
Ronan?

RONAN (O.C.)
Yeah.
Open the fucking door.

KASPER
How do I know it’s you?

RONAN (O.C.)
If you don’t open the door,
I’ll break it down and kick
your wetback ass all the way to TIJUANA.

KASPER
(to Jefty, smiles)
It’s him --

He unlocks the door.
Opens it.

Ronan comes in.
Surveys the scene.
Shakes his head.

RONAN
All that’s missing are the hookers --

JEFTY
They left last night.
Ain’t gonna pay ‘em for sleepin’ --

KASPER
So whassup?
You said some shit went down.

RONAN
The score got jacked.

JEFTY
What THE FUCK?

KASPER
I KNEW we shouldn’ta trusted
that fucking BITCH --

RONAN
Shut the fuck UP and let me TALK.
(off their silence)
Kelsey didn’t do it.
She went out for five minutes
to get supplies at the corner,
and when she got back her boy-toy
was harpooned to the bed,
and the cash was GONE.
She called me right away.

They stop.
Stare at each other.

KASPER
(to Jefty)
When you went out to get the beer,
you took A LONG TIME.
Over an hour --

JEFTY
I tol’ you, man.
I ran outta fucking GAS --
KASPER
But you were by yourself --

JEFTY
That’s because you DIDN’T WANNA COME.
How do we know YOU didn’t do it, HUH?
You were by yourself, TOO.

RONAN
Shut THE FUCK UP!

They WHIP their heads in his direction.
Glare at him.

RONAN
We’re not gonna get anywhere
yelling at each other
and pointing the finger.
(beat)
Kelsey and I think it was non-pro.
The boy-toy’s ex or some shit.
We’re all meeting up to
figure out how to find ‘em,
so pack up your shit and let’s go.
I’ve got a cab waiting outside.

They eye Ronan suspiciously.

JEFTY
(stares at Kasper)
But I thought we were
supposed to lay low --

KASPER
(glares at Jefty)
Yeah, till the heat was off --

RONAN
Suit yourself.
Stay here and party down.
But when we get the money
you’re on your own.

JEFTY
Shit, hold on.
I’m comin,’ I’m comin.’

KASPER
Yo, chill.
Let me get my shit.

They both race around the room.
Grabbing their bags,
stuffing their belongings in them.

RONAN
(shakes his head)
I love a well-oiled machine --