Liquid Courage

Hey there, crime kids. Happy Monday. 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.

It's time for 'a very special' Carrie Love holiday story, in which Carrie has to defend her mother's house from a home invasion on Christmas eve in Beverly Hills during a freak snow storm. In Chapter 1 of LITTLE GIRL BLUE, we meet Blue Wonder, a young college kid trying to find out who killed her sister. Problem is, she was a stripper, and 'going undercover' turns out to be a little tricky ...


EXT. STRIP CLUB - NIGHT
The gut-kicking metal PUNCH of
The Cult’s LOVE REMOVAL MACHINE over --

Fantasy Island Gentleman’s Club.
About a mile from the beach
on the outskirts of Santa Monica.

Not exactly in disrepair,
but not fancy, either.

A meat and potatoes strip joint.
Parking lot a quarter-full on a Sunday night.

Sign reads ‘AmateUr NiGht’.
‘HApPy HolIdaze.’

FEMALE VOICE (O.C.)
The ‘Gentleman’s club’
is an interesting phenomenon.
Men will pay hard-earned cash to
go to a place where
they can see naked women.
Where they can look, but not touch.
And they’ll spend even
more money for a private dance,
where they can get
‘up close and personal’ with a girl.
(beat)
But there’s still no touching allowed.
No contact whatsoever.
It’s the ultimate tease.
A gentle torture.
Erotic pleasure -- with no release.
No climax. No -- closure.
(beat)
Kinda like going to a restaurant
and not being able to eat.
Or going to a whorehouse
and not being able to --
(beat)
Never mind. You get the idea.

ANGLE ON --
A beat-up Dodge Dart Swinger convertible.
A YOUNG WOMAN sits behind the wheel.

Listening to the music on the car stereo.
Nodding her head, eyes closed.
PUNCHING her fists in the air.

Meet BLUE WONDER (20),
recent transplant from the Midwest.

Tall and gawky, a gazelle still on the cusp.
Long brown hair tied in a ponytail.
Studious-looking glasses.

Which clashes with her denim cutoffs
and black vinyl halter top.
Not to mention the six-inch platforms.

ANGLE ON --
Her lovely tan legs move to the music.

ANGLE ON --
She takes off her glasses.
Puts them on the dashboard.

RIPS out her scrunchie.
SHAKES her hair like a wild woman.

BLUE
(sings)
'Scarlet woman, bought me a be-er -- '

She stops. SHUTS OFF the music.
Looks in the rearview mirror.

BLUE (CONT’D)
I can’t do it.
What the hell was I thinking.

MALE VOICE (O.C.)
You dancing tonight?

A GOOD-LOOKING JOCK
appears next to the car. Grinning.

BLUE
I was -- thinking about it.

GOOD-LOOKING JOCK
Better think harder.
You’ll win, no problem.

BLUE
You really think so?

GOOD-LOOKING JOCK
You’re not from around here, are you?

BLUE
It shows, huh.

INT. FANTASY ISLAND - MOMENTS LATER
Marilyn Manson’s THE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE, LOUD, over --
The club. Dark, with a bar running along one wall.

A handful of CUSTOMERS on stools.
A couple of DANCERS lounge at the end, chatting.

Christmas decorations look odd, out of place.
The BARTENDER cleans a glass, watching -

THE STAGE
On it, GOTHIKA (18), pale, skinny --
and, you guessed it --
totally goth, is working the pole.

Down to her black G-string.
Pierced nipple rings glistening
in the pin-spot.

She looks great,
if you like that death-warmed-over look.

But she’s jacked up on something --
speed, maybe PCP --
and it’s making her move more like
a stormtrooper than a stripper.

Even the Santa hat doesn’t help.

THE FRONT DOOR
Opens. In walks Blue.
She’s made up her face.
Almost unrecognizable.

Painted, tarted-up.
And scared to death.

She walks over to the bar.
Tentative in platforms.

Sits precariously on a stool.
Bartender glides over. Pounces.

BARTENDER
Here for the contest?

BLUE
Uh -- yeah.

BARTENDER
Name your poison.
On the house.

BLUE
A Heinekin and a shot, please.

BARTENDER
Jack okay?

BLUE
Sure. Thanks.

He turns to get her drink.

FEMALE VOICE (O.C.)
Woman after my own heart.

Blue turns, looks, sees --

CARRIE LOVE
On the stool next to her.
Rakish in jeans, white t-shirt
and motorcycle jacket.

Ponytail. Naughty red lips.
Bright blue eyes full of secrets.
What momma warned you about.

We recognize her voice
from the opening voiceover.

CARRIE
Shot and a beer.
Simple. Perfect. All-American.

BLUE
Uh -- yeah.

CARRIE
(offers hand to shake)
Carrie Love.
Just making small-talk.
I would imagine you’re a bit nervous.

BLUE
(takes it, shakes)
Hi. Yeah. Thanks. I’m -- Blue.

CARRIE
'Blue?'
I would have figured you for
a Becky or a Susie.
Heather, maybe.

BLUE
Parents are old hippies.

CARRIE
Jerry Garcia, eat your heart out.

The bartender places the beer
and shot in front of Blue.

Carrie pulls out a money clip.
Peels off a fifty. Tosses it.

CARRIE
Leave the bottle.
Keep the change.

Bartender gives her a look.
Takes the bill. Glides away.

Carrie fills her shot glass.
Raises it in a toast.

Blue raises hers.
They CLINK.

CARRIE
Here’s lookin’ at you, kid.

They down them.
Grab their beers.
Take a swig. Smile.

BLUE
So -- you’re not a dancer --

CARRIE
(pours two more)
Hell, no. I’m a dick.

BLUE
A what?

Carrie does her shot.
Blue follows. Staring.

CARRIE
(pours two more)
Private dick.
You know, missing persons.
Cheating spouses. Serial killers.
Cat stuck in a tree. The usual.

BLUE
You’re a private detective?

The song ends.
The DJ’S Voice BOOMS over the sound system.

OILY DJ
Give it up for GOTHIKA, fellas.
Wasn’t she AMAZING?

A smattering of half-hearted applause.

CARRIE
(raises her shot)
To Gothika --

BLUE
Gothika.

They down them.
Carrie pours two more.
They toast.

CARRIE
Liquid courage.

Blue NODS.
They both SLAM THEM.

OILY DJ (O.C.)
Up next, we have the lovely MISS BLUE.

BLUE
Shit, that’s me.

She hops off the stool.
Pulls a CD out of her bag.

BLUE
Wish me luck.

CARRIE
Luck has nothing to do with it.
Not with that chassis.

Blue grins. Turns to go.
Stops. Looks at Carrie.

BLUE
I’d like to talk
to you about something.
You gonna stick around?

CARRIE
Consider me stuck.