Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Full Moon Fever



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 25 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, homicide detective Carrie Love rescues her porn star squeeze Laura Lang from the set where she got zapped in the couch with an electro-vibrator, but when Laura tells her she's going back tomorrow, things explode in more ways than one ...


EXT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT
A small bunker in the shadows
of the wrong side of the 101.

Carrie pulls in, parks amidst
a handful of shitty cars.
And a big, black BMW SUV.

INT. CARRIE’S CAR - NIGHT
She downs the last of her
grande with triple espresso.
Shudders.

Gets out of the car.
Throws the cup at the SUV.

INT. WAREHOUSE - SOUNDSTAGE GREEN ROOM - NIGHT
Laura is curled up in a ball on a couch
in a dark corner wrapped like a wraith
in a white sheet.

Pale. Small. Damaged.
Carrie rushes in, goes to her.

CARRIE
Baby, there you are --
are you okay?
Are you okay?

She wraps her arms around
the wounded bird.

LAURA
I don’t feel so good, Care.
That -- bloody machine.

CARRIE
I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.
C’mon, I’m taking you home.

With surprising strength,
Carrie picks her up, cradles her.

LAURA
You carry me --
across the threshold?

CARRIE
I’ll carry you
to the end of the earth.

EXT. CARRIE’S APARTMENT - BACK PATIO - NIGHT
Carrie and Laura soak in Carrie’s hot tub.
Steam rises off the water, their shoulders.

Behind them, a perfect full moon
lights the sky, the ocean, their faces.

LAURA
This is so good.
Every bone in my body is bleedin’ thrashed.

CARRIE
(goes to her, holds her)
You’re okay now, no more
evil German directors
flipping the switch on my baby.

They kiss.

LAURA
Mmm. At least not until tomorrow.

CARRIE
It must be the full moon.
I thought I just heard you say
you’re going back there.

LAURA
I have to -- or else
I won’t get paid, love.

CARRIE
You gotta be kidding.
Don’t worry about the money --
(beat)
Move in with me for a while.

LAURA
Move in with you?
Shack up?

CARRIE
Just for a little while.
We can try it out.
And you can maybe --
go back to being a stylist.
You always say how much
you loved it back in London.

Pause.

LAURA
That was up until my lover,
my business partner fucking
O-D’d on me and fuckin’ killed himself!
How fucking dodgy.
Of all the -- I thought you were --
I mean, you’ve slept
with half the girls I work with --
and you now live up to the bloody cliche?
You’re just like all the other civilians!

Laura gets out of the tub.
Naked in the moonlight.
Steam rises off her perfect body.

CARRIE
Wait -- DON’T GO!

LAURA
Thanks for the tub.
I feel really good all of a sudden.
Like a weight’s been taken off my shoulders.

She darts over to the door, goes in.
Carrie sits. In shock.

CARRIE
Holy shit.

Carrie jumps out, grabs a towel,
races to the door --
to discover it’s been locked.

CARRIE
The bitch.
She wouldn’t.

EXT. HOUSE - CARRIE’S APARTMENT - FRONT DOOR - NIGHT
Carrie jiggles the doorknob.
POUNDS on the door.

CARRIE
Laura! Let me in!

MALE VOICE (O.S.)
Whoa. Let me guess.
Lesbian drama?

Carrie wheels around to face --
A uniformed PRIVATE SECURITY GUARD.

SECURITY GUARD
Know the feeling.
Wife left me couple years ago --
for her gyno.
(beat)
Nice towel.

Monday, April 29, 2013

911 Is A Joke



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.

In Chapter 24 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, suspended homicide detective Carrie Love blows off some steam at the shooting range, then at a dive bar, but when she gets an emergency phone call from her porn star girlfriend Laura Lang on the set of her latest film, she has to spring into action and come to the rescue ...


INT. BEVERLY HILLS GUN CLUB - FIRING RANGE - NIGHT
Some swanky, techno-Euro crime theme.
Rows of stalls with targets, too brightly lit. Empty.

Except for Carrie.
Messy drunk in a slip of a cocktail dress, heels, shades --

And a gleaming 357 Magnum
out of a Guy Ritchie wet dream.

She lowers her sunglasses.
Scratches an itch in her eye.
We see she’s been crying.

CARRIE (V.O.)
It’s easier to see
after you’ve had a few cocktails.

She slides them back up. Takes aim. And --
BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

THE TARGET
A ‘Smiley face’ smack dab on the figure’s head.

ANGRY HISPANIC OWNER (O.S.)
Hey, you! Breakfast at Tiffany’s!
You better put dat thing down
before I call da cops!

CARRIE
stops, turns --

CARRIE
I am a fucking cop!

And swings her weapon toward him.
He raises a sawed-off shotgun.
Click-click.

ANGRY HISPANIC OWNER
That’ll be the last move
you ever make, lady.

Carrie lowers her weapon.
Whips off her shades.

ANGRY HISPANIC OWNER (CONT’D)
Oh, hi Carrie --
I didn’t recognize you.
You clean up good.

CARRIE
Thanks, Enrique.
I’ll be done a few minutes. ‘Kay?

ENRIQUE
(big smile)
You got it, Legs.

He bows, leaves.
She takes out more bullets, reloads.

CARRIE (V.O.)
My life has become a trashy cult film.
I have more death, betrayal, seedy glamour
and sexual situations in my life
than any ten women in this town.
(beat)
And this is Los Angeles.
(beat)
The only place on earth
where you fall in love --
and your partner thinks
she’s taking a meeting.
But you still fall,
and you fall so hard,
it makes you lose all sense of
judgment, morals, self-esteem --
and any desire to play
the game of life by the rules.

She slowly SPINS AROUND --
aims up, up, and --

ANGLE ON --
A row of ceiling lights.

Bullets hit them, one by one.
POP, POP, POP, POP, POP, POP.

EXT. BAR - NIGHT
The Gas Lite, a crappy Santa Monica dive.
The sound of a sloppy bar band
spills out from within.

A ponytailed BIKER BOUNCER
stands out front, smokes.

Two pretty COLLEGE GIRLS
approach him, huddle in the cold.

BIKER BOUNCER
(toothy grin)
ID, please.

PRETTY COLLEGE GIRL
(takes out license)
Hi. Is there a band tonight?

BIKER BOUNCER
Yeah, The Chollos.
Blues band.

The door FLIES OPEN,
and out stumbles Carrie.
Obliterated.

CARRIE
(to the bouncer)
G’night, Eddie.

Eddie tips his cap,
checks out her legs.

Carrie swerves, looks at
the fresh-faced young flesh.

CARRIE (CONT’D)
Whoa. Hi. Let me guess -- UCLA?

PRETTY COLLEGE GIRL
(not shy)
Loyola Marymount.

PRETTY COLLEGE GIRL 2
We’re good girls.

CARRIE
(devouring with her eyes)
That’s a shame.

PRETTY COLLEGE GIRL
C’mon, Debbie -- I’m cold.

They giggle, rush inside.
Carrie stops, stares at the door.

EDDIE
You okay?

CARRIE
Yeah. Just thinking about
the combination of drugs
it’d take to get those two in the sack.

INT. CAR - NIGHT
Carrie sits behind the wheel
of her monster ‘68 Olds.

Fumbles for a cigarette.
Her cell bleats.
She fishes it out, listens.

CARRIE
Laura? Slow down, slow down --
what’s the matter?
(listens, horrified)
Hold tight, I’ll be right there.
(listens)
It’s okay, it’s okay,
it’s gonna be okay.
I’ll be right there, just hold on.

Click. The line goes dead.

CARRIE
Goddamn fucking Frankenstein --

Friday, April 26, 2013

Spin The Dickhead



Hey there, crime kids. Happy Friday. 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 23 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, our story takes a twisted turn when teenage serial killer Sparkle Plenty murders a film industry hack she picked up in a club, cuts up his body ... and then pleasures herself ...


INT. SHITTY HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
The kind of room where
you don’t need a black light
to see the stains.

Sparkle sits on the bed,
very pin-up.

In nothing but a teddie
and a big smile.

Presses PLAY on a big boom box
on the night stand.

Some strange, obscure 80's new-wave
song percolates over the speakers.

MALE VOICE (O.S.)
(about the music)
I like this, who is it?
It was in that film --
what was it, uh --

SPARKLE
DollsHead.
The film was 'Random Acts of Architecture,’
a dark little indie coming of age flick
about a teenage girl who has her first orgasm.
She kills the guy who gave it to her --
and then goes on a cross-country road trip
where she has a bunch of episodic adventures
on a journey of self-discovery.

ANGLE ON:

The MAN she’s talking to,
a FILM INDUSTRY HACK (50’s),
scary in black Gucci boxers, cigar.

FILM INDUSTRY HACK
That’s right. I read about that.
(slides onto the bed)
Ever smoke before sex?

SPARKLE
You make me laugh.
Long and hard.
Fucking 'LOL' time, slick.
Can I POKE you?
Wanna cyber-fuck?
Can I instant massage you?
Give it to you up the avatar?
Wanna SOCIAL NETWORK?

She starts laughing maniacally.
Cracks herself up.

FILM INDUSTRY HACK
Oh. My. God.
I totally forgot.
I got this -- thing tonight.
How could I forget.
God, am I an asshole.

She WHIPS out a big, chrome HANDGUN
from behind her back.

JAMS it in his mouth.
Whispers, a’la Dirty Harry.

SPARKLE
You got that right, buster.
Now shut the fuck up
and get on your knees.
It’s time for you to play
'spin the dickhead'
and beg for your fictional life.
Ride the 45 caliber pony.
Time to give a
Chuck Heston blow job,
go down on the NRA --
and swallow.

CLOSE ON --
Her face. Having a ball.

We hear the sickly THWUNK of a silencer, and --
blood splatters her perfect bone structure.

SPARKLE
Cut, print -- that’s a TAKE.

She smiles.

INT. MOTEL ROOM - BATHROOM - DUSK
Sparkle stands naked over the body
in the bath tub.

She’s covered in blood.
Cutting up the body.

CAMERA stays on her as she leans over,
saws off pieces.

SPARKLE (V.O.)
AMERICAN PSYCHO was widely
misunderstood by the critics.
But then, who could blame them?
The book it was based on
was a misogynistic piece
of yuppie masturbatory crap.

She raises up an arm.
Salutes it.

Tosses it in a garbage bag.
Returns to her work.

SPARKLE (V.O.)
The film is actually a black comedy --
a satire of the go-go
Reagan eighties in Manhattan.
It almost derailed when
Leo DiCaprio came on board,
causing the low-budget indie
to bloat overnight into a
fifty-million-dollar mega-production.
Thank god for Leo’s handlers,
because he ended up getting cold feet.

She raises up a leg.
Makes a face.

Chucks it in the bag.
Grabs the saw. Continues.

SPARKLE (V.O.)
As fun as it is,
this flick didn’t completely
satisfy this critic.
I mean, there’s no point to
Jason Bateman’s killing, is there?
He’s just a psycho --
there’s no story, no plot, per se.
It’s completely random.
It’s hilarious, sure, but it’s
the cinematic equivalent of a Happy Meal --
goes down fast, but devoid
of any creative nutrition.

Sparkle saws harder.
This one’s tough.

SPARKLE (V.O.)
This installation -- this piece --
this reinterpretation is
the stuff of real meaning. Of truth.
A commentary on the banalities
of the modern mating ritual.
It is my intention to desconstruct
and then reinvent the American family.
Show the world that you
don’t have to be a victim.
That you can create your own family,
control your own destiny --

The killer cutie finishes. Smiles.
Raises up the Industry Hack’s head --

SPARKLE (V.O.)
And make your own fucking movie.

And kisses him on the mouth.

INT. MOTEL ROOM - CONTINUOUS
The slinky, femme, crime theme
trip-hop groove of DollsHead’s
TOUCH THE MOON over --

IN MONTAGE:
Sparkle glides in from the bathroom.

In a sexy red nightie.
Pink fuzzy slippers.
And a lot of blood.

She goes to the bed.
Places the gut-smeared
fishing hook-knife on the nightstand.
It gleams in a flash of light.

CLOSE ON --
The table.
Crimson hands open a drawer.

Take out a foot-long
'back massager' VIBRATOR.

That’s right, folks --
say hello to the 'Space Needle.'

SPARKLE
lies down on the bed.
Gets ready for lift off.

CLOSE ON --
Her dainty, pretty feet.
With bloody, blue frosted nails.

They arch, stretch like a cat.
A soft sigh. A little kittie-yawn.

The CAMERA SLOWLY PANS UP
tanned, slender legs, as --

the BUZZING starts.
Causing thighs to slightly twitch, part.

SPARKLE’S
face. Eyes closed. Dreamy.
A hint of a smile.

A finger itches her nose,
leaving a smear of blood.

IN MONTAGE:
Sparkle GRABS Bruce Ball by the cuffs --
SLAMS him into a wall with a SHRIEK.

BRUCE
twists and turns in agony
in the scalding shower.

THE VIBRATOR
roto-rooters in gentle circles
on her private place.

SPARKLE
writhes in wave after wave of pleasure.

THE HIPSTER VIDEO CLERK
lies on the floor of the crap hotel room.
Muffled SCREAMS as Sparkle STABS the fuzzy body.

SPARKLE
moans, arches her back

DINA
gagged, tied and bound
in an abandoned restaurant kitchen.

Terrified eyes pleading and screaming --
As her hand is guided into a meat grinder.

THE VIBRATOR
is kicked up a notch. BZZZZZZZZZ.

SPARKLE
moans louder. Eyes clenched shut.

THE FILM INDUSTRY HACK’S
mouth opens. The gun barrel slides in.
BANG. Blood SPLATTERS the wall behind him.

SPARKLE
climaxes, spasms --

SHRIEKS, an animal baying at the moon.

SPARKLE
Mommm-yyyyyyyyyy!

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Tricks Are For Chicks



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 22 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, teenage serial killer Sparkle Plenty scares the shit out of a suit who tries to hit on her at a sleazy nightclub. Meanwhile, demented snuff filmmaker Klaus Speer prepares to shoot a most unusual porno starring homicide detective Carrie Love's squeeze Laura Lang ...


EXT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT
An ugly, gutteral-twisting techno groove --
Curve’s violent, feminine WISH YOU DEAD.

Pain.
Hollywood’s glittering
club-of-the-moment.

Celeb-filled.
Self-conscious.
Fabulous.

A cluster of TRENDIES
lay in wait
behind the velvet rope.

INT. PAIN - BAR - CONTINUOUS
Sparkle sits on a bar stool,
sips a chilled Twisted Nipple.

SPARKLE (V.O.)
Okay, here’s the thing.
I’m gonna spell
it out for ya.
No subtext here,
just the straight poop.
Ready on the poop deck!

A DOLCE AND GABANNA SUIT
slides onto the next stool.

DOLCE AND GABANNA SUIT
Hi, there.

SPARKLE
What’s the hub-bub, bub?

The MBA stares, confused --
then recovers.

DOLCE AND GABANNA SUIT
40’s noir.
Love it.
You must be a writer.

SPARKLE
As if. What-ever.
Gag me. Your bad.
We must not do lunch.
Have your people
tell my people
to shove it up your ass.
Buh-bye. Bigger, better offer.
(sips drink, off his look)
'Tex' Avery, 1950’s.
Cartoons, big fella.
Big fucking Bugs Bunny --
whassup, doc.
Silly rabbit,
tricks are for chicks.

Pause.

DOLCE AND GABANNA SUIT
Uh -- right.
(pulls out prescription bottle,
hands it to her)
Here.
Take a couple of these.
They’ll level you out.

He leaves,
muttering to himself.

SPARKLE
(sings)
Your love is
giving me bad medicine --

She sips her cocktail.
Lights a Dunhill.
Laughs to herself.

SPARKLE (V.O.)
'Kay.
Gonna smash all your
precious little myths.
Yes, my dad was a closet case
that drowned himself
in Iron City beer
and Broadway musicals --
and yes, my dear, sweet mama
finger-fucked her
precious little
beauty pageant prisoner.
(beat)
But that’s not
why I’m doing this --
no way, Jose.
This chick’s not into it
for some kind of
emotionally scarred
payback kinda thing.
This ain’t no party,
this ain’t no disco,
this ain’t no fooling around.
It’s just -- fun.
It’s a high.
Better than coming.
(beat)
C’mon, admit it.
You’ve got someone in your life
you’d like to do bodily harm to,
maybe even kill.
Your neighbor, someone at work.
Maybe, if you’re
really blessed, an ex-lover?
Or, if you’ve been chosen,
found your calling --
a relative.
(beat)
Yeah, that’s a good one.
Blow em up.
Imagine how great it feels
to totally obliterate
the demented creators
of your misery and pain.
It’s like having a big bowl
of instant karma,
served with mother’s milk --
and Daddy’s banana.

INT. SOUNDSTAGE - DAY
A real soundstage.
A surprisingly good set.

This is a porno with a budget.
Production value. A CREW.

Laura is on a chrome gurney,
very Barbarella in plastic and vinyl.

Bored look covering her dread.
Her creeping panic.

KLAUS
Take number 4 and 5
up a bit more, please.

BURLY GRIP
Brighter? More brighter?

KLAUS
No. Make it darker.
So we can’t fucking see her.
(mutters to himself)
Non-union idiot.

LAURA
What are you,
taking a fucking light reading?

KLAUS
Hold your horsies,
my little turtle-dove.
(to a tech)
Let’s try the music.
Check the levels.

TECH (O.S.)
Scary gothic Nazi tunes
coming right up.

The soaring, over-the-top
stormtrooper-in-love sound of
Ultravox’s LOVE’S GREAT ADVENTURE
blasts at full-volume.

KLAUS
Ja. Too sexy for my fucken T-shirt.
(to a PA)
The dry ice!
Start the dry ice!

A dense fog sweeps into frame.
Circles his waist.

Klaus hands Laura a CONTROL BOX,
demonstrates the knobs.

KLAUS
This one controls the amps --
this one for the watts --
this, for the frequency modulation --

LAURA
And the Energizer Pussy
just keeps on getting electrocuted.

KLAUS
You snicker now,
my bitter Fraulein,
but you have never
scaled the heights that
the Pandora Box will take you.
Never felt such pleasure,
such ecstacy, such bliss.

Laura slowly turns a knob,
gets a JOLT in her privates.

LAURA
Ow, FUCK! Bollocks!
(beat)
Fuckin’ bliss is gonna
blow my bloody fusebox.

KLAUS
Yes! She’s angry!
That hurts!
But it feels so good!
Ach de lieber -- mein chubby!
(throws up his arms)
Speed! Roll video! Magic time!

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Look Who The Cat Fucked In



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 21 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, suspended homicide detective Carrie Love and her partner/ex-husband Bernie Keko meet with police chief Larry Lipshitz, who plays them a tape teenage serial killer Sparkle Plenty left at the scene of her latest grisly 'installation' ...


INT. POLICE HEADQUARTERS - LIPSHITZ’ OFFICE - DAY
Larry sits behind his desk.
Sips his designer coffee.

LIPSHITZ
Damn, that’s good.
Who knew Ethiopia had such --

A sharp KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK
on the door.

LIPSHITZ
Come in.

It opens.
Bernie strides in.

Stops.
Looks behind him.

KEKO
Carrie. C’mon.

Carrie shuffles in.
Dishevelled.
Stinking of last night.

CARRIE
(low)
Hey, Chief.

LIPSHITZ
Jesus, look who the cat fucked in.
Nice outfit.
Where’s your shopping cart?

She goes to a chair.
Pours herself into it.

CARRIE
Didn’t know the rules applied
when I’m suspended.

KEKO
I found her in a bar, Chief --

LIPSHITZ
Can it, and sit your ass down.
This is serious business.
I’ve got no time for your
‘Divorce American Style’ crap.
(to Carrie)
You’re here Carrie because
we believe you were the
last person to see Ms. Daerr alive.

CARRIE
How could that be?
She was here at the station,
and tons of people were --

LIPSHITZ
Ramirez has a surveillance tape
from the morning she was killed.
(beat)
You really get around, don’tcha.

Busted.

CARRIE
(turning red)
Look, I can explain --

LIPSHITZ
And I don’t wanna hear it.
I could give a holy fuck.
I just want you
to listen to this tape --
and tell me if Daerr
said anything or did anything
that could shed some light
on this madness.

He points to a boombox on his desk.
Punches ‘play.’

SPARKLE (V.O.)
Hey there, film freaks!
Welcome to Murder Fone!
If you know the name of the
grisly dead body
you want to see, press ONE.
If you know the name of the movie
that’s being depicted, press TWO.
And if you know the name of
the brilliant auteur, press THREE.

They exchange glances.
Lipshitz rolls his eyes.

SPARKLE (V.O.)
Time’s up! BUZZZZZ.
(beat)
Pathetic.
You rubes probably watch reality TV.
The cultural scourge
of this once-great nation.
(beat)
I’m talking Brian DePalma, people!
Brian Fucking De-Palma.
The. Man. Gimmee five.
Gimmee some skin.
Gimmee some skin flick.
(beat)
DRESSED TO KILL was unleashed on the world
by Paramount Pictures back in ‘82.
Although most critics initially
dismissed it as a blatant,
cheesy Hitchcock rip-off,
it more than holds up today as
an erotic, beautifully shot mis en scene --
a pre-postmodern noir of elegant pacing.
It briefly let Angie Dickinson shine again
in a ‘brave performance’ --
(beat)
And it was a fucking brilliant plot device
to have what seemed to be a major character
sliced and diced like that thirty minutes in --
(beat)
Poor, bloody, sexy baby
in creamy beige lying in the elevator,
shredded to ribbons --
(beat)
So, I said to myself, ‘self?
How can I top that?
(giggles)
Guess the meat grinder
takes it to the next level, huh.
(beat)
Don’t worry.
I thought of making
deviled sandwiches out of her --
but even I have some limits.
Crazed, genius serial killer, oui --
depraved cannibal, no.
(beat)
Oh, and Carrie --
you and Bernie better
get your shit together.
‘Cause the end of the third act
is gonna get very messy.

Silence.

CARRIE
I feel sick.
(beat)
And oddly hungry all of a sudden.

LIPSHITZ
Did Daerr mention
anybody she was mad at?
Or who was mad at her?
Her ex, maybe?
I mean, seeing as how
she was a muff-diver,
you might have some insight
into the matter.

Carrie shoots him a look.

LIPSHITZ
Nothing?
Well, look -- here’s the deal.
She’s made it personal,
has some fucked up thing
for you and Bernie.
But unfortunately for me,
you’re off the team for now.

CARRIE
I’d come back to work
if you asked me nicely.

LIPSHITZ
I want you to go home
and think, think hard.
And get your shit together.
Don’t spiral down into
a black void of sex,
alcohol and despair.
(friendly)
‘Cause if you do,
I’ll kill ya.

Carrie stands. Nods.
Goes to the door.
Called on her shit.

CARRIE
I will.
(beat)
Nice to see you, Chief --

And she’s gone.
Larry gets up.

KEKO
I think you got to her, Lare.

LIPSHITZ
Let’s just hope
she doesn’t get to herself.
(points at the door)
I want you and Valentine
to keep checking out those clubs.
It’s our only lead.

KEKO
(as he leaves)
Don’t worry.
We’ll get the bitch.

LIPSHITZ
So what does she want
with Love and Keko?
Must’ve had a FUCKED UP childhood --


Tuesday, April 23, 2013

The Days Of Wine And Lesbos



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 20 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, suspended homicide detective Carrie Love and porn star Laura Lang have a snack after their evening of debauchery. The next morning, detective Bernie Keko tracks down Carrie at her favorite dive bar to inform her that teenage serial killer Sparkle Plenty has killed her latest victim ... the chick that Carrie's been cheating on Laura with ...


INT. CARRIE’S KITCHEN - BAR - DAWN
The lovers sit on bar stools.
Carrie feeds Laura a White Castle cheeseburger
with her fingers.

CARRIE
I think I hurt my back.

LAURA
I think I hurt my tongue.

Pause.

CARRIE
It feels like,
I don’t know anything anymore.
If I can orgasm --
without you even touching me --

LAURA
But I was.

CARRIE
Yeah.

They stare at each other.
Goofy. Lean in. Kiss.

LAURA
Mmm. That was good.

CARRIE
And you liked the burger?

LAURA
You taste better.
(beat)
Would you nuke a couple more?
Please?

CARRIE
For you, my love --
I’d nuke heaven and earth.

She goes to microwave, pops a few in.

CARRIE (CONT’D)
So what’s the name of the video?

LAURA
Electro-Glide in Lube.
It was supposed to be Blade-Fucker,
but Klaus got scared that
Warner Brothers might give him a problem.

CARRIE
Aren’t you scared?
I’ve seen that gear.
Looks kinda dangerous to me.
All that voltage in your --

The microwave DINGS.

CARRIE (CONT'D)
You know.

LAURA
Don’t worry, love, I’ll be fine.
Klaus said I’d have the controls.
(beat)
Set phasers to ‘stun.’
So to speak.

Carrie comes in with an
offering for her goddess.

CARRIE
I know.
I’m sorry -- I -- that was stupid.

Pause.

LAURA
(very quiet)
Thanks.
(looks at the plate, then her)
You’re so good to me.

CARRIE
You’re so good to ME.

Laura’s eyes are bright, liquid.
She looks small, fragile
in her big, white terrycloth robe.
Makeup long gone.

LAURA
Sometimes I -- don’t think
I deserve someone like you.

CARRIE
Hey, enough of that. Listen.
You deserve it. I deserve it.
We’re just people. Both of us.

Pause.

LAURA
Then -- why doesn’t it feel like it?

INT. THE CIRCLE BAR - MORNING
The Supremes’ STONE LOVE plays softly on the juke.
Bright. Cheerful. Full of soul.

Unlike the bar. Dark. Quiet.
Inhabited by drunks at 9AM.

Carrie pours herself into plush bar stool.
Orders her favorite poison.

Hears the music.
Takes off a combat boot --
And FLINGS IT at the music -- THWAP.

The record stops -- THWIK.

PABLO, the bartender,
Vin Diesel on sleep deprivation --
CRACKS his knuckles.

CARRIE
Sorry about that.
(beat)
Love songs make me wanna kill someone.
Put it on my tab.
(beat)
Better set up another.

BARTENDER
(pours)
Trouble with the ladies again?

CARRIE
Lady. A woman -- girl, really.
(beat)
Ladies. Sounds so --
(takes a big slug)
Demure. Pristine.

BARTENDER
Well, that's the idea, isn't it?
I mean, who doesn't want a lady?

Long pause.

CARRIE
My girlfriend, Pablo.
My fucking girlfriend.

AT THE FRONT
Bernie ambles in,
spies his prey, grins.
Shakes his head.

KEKO
(sings)
The days of wine and lesbos --

CAMERA follows him to the bar, laughing.

CARRIE
Get the fuck out of my bar, detective.

KEKO
Oh, 'your bar?'
This is your bar?
I bet Donnie Dapello
would find that interesting.
Did you finally pay off the vig --
or did the old man finally die
and leave you his estate?

CARRIE
This isn’t some stupid movie, Bernie --
where the former lovers
have to work together,
fight for awhile,
confront each other, change --
patch up their differences --
and end up back together,
happily ever after.
This is my life.
And I want you out of it.

KEKO
Ooh. That’s real hard-boiled
lady dick lingo, little girl.
You think I came here to do a
little Hepburn-Tracy dance with you?
Well, think again,
miss carpet muncher.
I’m here because Lipshitz
wants to see you.

Carrie grabs the bottle.
Pours a shot. Pounds it.

CARRIE
What. He’s gonna ask me
to turn in my swiss army knife
and my decoder ring?

KEKO
You know Double D-Girl --
the airbrushed filly you’ve
been two-timing Miss gang-bang with?

She stops cold.
Gives him a look that maims --
then kills.

CARRIE
What the fuck is it to you.

KEKO
She was found this morning
in her apartment.
In about a hundred pieces.
Spread like chunky peanut butter --

Monday, April 22, 2013

Dirty Little Secrets



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.

In Chapter 19 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, homicide detective Carrie Love and porn star Laura Lang check out the perverted pleasures at Club Fuck ... and then take them home to the bedroom ...


EXT. CLUB FUCK - NIGHT
The filth-sleaze go-go of the
Thrill Kill Kult’s DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS over --

A faceless warehouse on the
cheap end of Santa Monica Blvd.

Laura pulls Carrie
behind the velvet rope.

ON THE WOMEN
Laura, an SS erotic piece of art.
Carrie, just getting her feet wet
in something too short, too tight.

LAURA
Ready to get totally depraved?

CARRIE
Yes, please.

INT. CLUB FUCK - FRONT BAR
A carnival of perversion.
The fall of Rome. Fellini, on tap.

The magic couple sip cocktails.
Hands all over each other.

CARRIE
It’s the nipple clamp version
of the Star Wars alien bar.
(beat)
I love it.

LAURA
(takes her hand)
Then c’mon, love --
let’s tighten the screws.

ON THE DANCE FLOOR
The throbbing groove of
The Thrill Kill Kult’s BLUE BUDDHA.

In a hailstorm of strobes,
an earthquake of music,
Carrie and Laura shake it,
grind -- delirious. Intoxicated.

CARRIE
(sings along)
Ultra flesh, is what we want --

IN MONTAGE:

ON A BANQUETTE AT THE REAR BAR/LOUNGE
they hold hands.

Laura leans over, whispers something.
Carrie ERUPTS with laughter.

IN THE 'PLAY ROOM'
The girls watch the demonstration.

A TRIBAL MASTER deftly flogs a
young ANDROGYNOUS BOY
on his panty-clad privates --

AT THE FRONT BAR
Carrie and Laura order drinks.
Stare at each other.

ON THE DANCE FLOOR
The kinky sounds of the
Thrill Kill Kult’s SEX ON WHEELZ.

The women twist and shake.
Bump and grind.
Slither and slide.

IN MONTAGE
An 'almost there, but not quite'
VALLEY COUPLE stare.

Two tweaky ecstasy GAY CLUB BOYS leer.
A SCARY GOTH GUY and GIRL
slide up next to them.

FROM ABOVE
The lovers do their mating dance.

IN THE BOOTH
the DJ YELLS something at the LIGHT BOY.

ON THE DANCE FLOOR
a spotlight HITS the girls.
They don’t notice, entranced.

Laura takes Carrie’s neck in her hands.
KISSES her mouth.

They stop dancing. Kiss.
Devour. Melt. Merge.

And, as CAMERA starts a
slow circular pan around them --

Laura GRABS Carrie’s hair.
Pulls her head back.

Bends into her neck.
Starts sucking. Biting. Feasting.

Strobe lights EXPLODE,
spinning shards of pulsing passion.

INT. PLAYROOM - MOMENTS LATER
The scary, depraved goth-ooze of Daniel Ash’s
COMING DOWN bubbles under the dark dankness.
Last call. Final fix.

Carrie and Laura stand stage right.
A DOMINATRIX unshackles an
underage-looking nymph
in a Girl Scout uniform.

Laura unclips a leash.
Hooks it to Carrie’s collar.

CARRIE
gulps. Part fear. Part wet.

LAURA
gives a little yank.
Pulls her up onto the stage.

Guides her over to a large wooden cross,
like a big ‘X’.

CARRIE’S EYES
flicker. Liquid. Innocent.

At least for now --

Laura places Carrie’s left wrist
on the cross.

Into a shackle.
SNAPS it shut.
Then does the other.

The blonde reaches up to the
zipper at Carrie’s throat.

Slowly unzips it --
all the way down.

The glistening black vinyl flies open --
Revealing lingerie. Bare, trembling skin.

Goosebumping. Glistening.

Laura reaches down.
Places Carrie’s left ankle on the cross.

SNAPS the shackle shut.
Then the right ankle.

She stops.

Takes a black leather-gloved hand,
strokes Carrie’s calf.
Our heroine shudders.

Then slowly, achingly --
goes up, up Carrie’s leg.

Reaches her soft, milky thigh.
Stops.

CARRIE
quivers.
Bites her lip.

Closes her eyes.
A tear of pleasure trickles down.

Yes.
Laura’s hand continues on it’s journey.
Reaches Carrie’s panties.

Stops.
Carrie’s hips buckle.
She can’t take it.

Please.

LAURA
stands up abruptly.

Boots CLOMP, CLOMP over to
a rack of instruments.

Paddle. Whip. Riding crop.
Cat-o’-nine tails.

She grabs the cat-flogger.
Takes a breath.

The women lock eyes.
Laura smiles.

Slowly raises it.
CRACKS it in the air.

Carrie reacts.
Hands grip the restraints.

Laura walks over.
Kisses her.

Whispers sweet naughties.
Returns to her position --

And starts making love
to her trembling slave-girl.

Gently swirls the dozen
soft deerskin straps like a flag --

And softly whacks Carrie’s tummy.
A tickle. A tease.

Carrie jerks with pleasure.
And again, crack -- on her shoulder.

Crack, on Carrie’s thigh.
She moans softly. Surprised.

Uhhh.
INT. CARRIE’S APARTMENT - LATER THAT MORNING
The fragile, subterranean croon of
David Bowie’s cover of GOD ONLY KNOWS over --

In the bedroom,
softly lit with a lone candle.
Carrie’s handcuffed to the bedposts.

In the same outfit.
But the dress is gone.

Laura kneels before her
on the foamy comforter.
Flogging Carrie gently.
Delicately.


And on each swirling
whissssk of the soft straps --
Carrie jerks with new pleasure.

Without the visual,
it sounds just like lovemaking.

Because it is.

Laura’s flogging quickens.
Softer. Closer. Deeper.

Carrie writhes. Moans.
Starts to reach climax --

Pause.

And she HOWLS AT THE MOON.
A carnal, animal bray.

SHRIEKS like a banshee virgin
finally finding release.

Starts crying, sobbing from so much.
Laura THROWS the flogger to the floor.

Reaches up.
Unfastens Carrie’s wrists.

Throws her arms around her.
Holds her there.

PUSH IN on their faces.
Simple. Pure. Perfect.

Friday, April 19, 2013

Liquid Lunch



Hey there, crime kids. Happy Friday. 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 18 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, suspended homicide detective Carrie Love and porn star Laura Lang go to a beach dive bar to start their date, but soon have to deal with a leering suit who asks if he could 'join in' ...


EXT. OCEAN AVENUE - LATE AFTERNOON
Carrie’s vintage Porsche convertible
flies up the road along
the Santa Monica beach.
Passes a crusty DIVE BAR.

LAURA (O.S.)
Chez Jay, I love that place!
Stop the car -- stop the car!

INT. CHEZ JAY - LATE AFTERNOON
How can it be so dark inside
during the day?

And where on earth did they
find that jazz for the jukebox?

Our chicks sit on bar stools.
Grinning at the BARTENDER.

CARRIE
Can I get a Margarita, please?
Rocks, salt?

Laura slips her hand
up Carrie’s skirt.

LAURA
(to the bartender)
Make it a Cadillac Margarita.
Two of them.

CARRIE
(getting hot)
What’s a Cadillac Margarita?

Laura’s hand shifts --
smile broadens.

LAURA
It’s got a shot
of Gran Marnier in it.

CARRIE
You want me to --
get drunk?

A MALE VOICE interrupts.

MALE VOICE (O.S.)
Sounds like fun to me.

ON THE NEXT BAR STOOL
sits a puffed-up, leering
SUIT enjoying his liquid lunch.

He leans toward Laura,
insinuating himself.

DICK
Hi, I’m Dick.
You ladies together
I take it?

CARRIE
Yes, we are.

LAURA
No boys allowed.
Sorry.
CARRIE
(Ab Fab accent)
No sex, please --
we’re British.

This CRACKS the girls up.
The bon vivant tries again.

DICK
So, you ladies are, uh --

LAURA
Yes, love.
This is my date.
(takes Carrie’s hand in hers)
Isn’t she gorgeous?

DICK
Yes she is.
And so are you.
(beat)
Do you ever let anybody --
join in?

Laura sips her cocktail.
Eyes burning with mischief.

LAURA
Let me ask you something.
How would you feel if you
were on a date with your girlfriend --
and some gay guy came up to you
and asked if he could 'join in?'
You wouldn’t like it, would you?
You’d think it was fucking rude,
wouldn’t you?

The poor guy’s wheels
start spinning.
But he’s no match.

Carrie observes,
sips her drink.
In awe.

DICK
Uh, yes --
of course, but --

LAURA
This is the same thing, darling.
We’re not into men.
(beat)
Just like you.

This sinks in.
He struggles for a response.

LAURA
Now. I’d like you
to apologize to my date.
It’s her birthday,
and we’ve had to deal
with this falderol,
instead of --
(leans over, kisses Carrie)
Enjoying our evening together.

DICK
(turned on, embarrassed)
Hey, look --
I’m really sorry,
I didn’t mean to --

LAURA
Apology accepted.
We’re going to leave now.
My darling Carrie here
only lives a few blocks away.
So, I want you to imagine us
going back to her place --
and what I’m
going to do to her.
(beat)
Silly me.
You were going to
do that anyway,
weren’t you?

EXT. CHEZ JAY - PARKING LOT - DUSK
Carrie and Laura
walk to the car holding hands.

CARRIE
That was awesome.
You fucking killed him.

Laura stops.
GRABS her.

LAURA
I’d kill anyone
that gets in our way.
(beat)
I hope you’re packing, officer --

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Splendor In The Ass



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 17 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, teenage serial killer/beauty pageant queen Sparkle Plenty cruises down Hollywood Boulevard checking out the street trash and gives us a glimpse into her abusive childhood. Meanwhile, suspended homicide detective Carrie Love has her first 'date' with porn star Laura Lang ...


EXT. HOLLYWOOD BOULEVARD - DAY
Sparkle cruises down the nasty boulevard,
platforms clattering --
smiling beneath red heart shades.

SPARKLE (V.O.)
I love cheeseburgers, pizza,
video games, movies, comic books --
and catching a buzz whenever I can.
I’m your typical American teen.
(beat)
Except for one thing.
I’m gonna be the biggest
serial killer there ever was.
(beat)
People are gonna remember me.
You betcha.

INT. PLENTY HOME - LIVING ROOM - FLASHBACK - DAY
Dot shows her daughter a baton twirl.

SPARKLE (V.O.)
See, the thing was about my mom --
she like, didn’t want a daughter.
She wanted a star.
(beat)
And the money --
don’t forget the money.
She thought I was, like,
her ticket out the trailer ranch.
(beat)
How fucked up is that?
'Trailer Ranch.'
Like it’s a fucking ranch.
Raunch is more like it.
In hell.
(beat)
What. Ever.

Dot hands it to Sparkle,
who gives it a whirl.
She’s great.

CLOSE ON --
Sparkle’s face.
Bright. Eager.
Scared shitless.

SPARKLE (V.O.)
I mean, lookit me.
Is that pathetic or what?

INT. CARRIE LOVE’S APARTMENT - KITCHEN - NIGHT
A Mr. Coffee DRIPS.
Carrie walks in, makes a cup.

She goes to the mini stereo,
searches through the CD’s.

Makes her choice.
Puts it on.
Presses 'play.'

The Supreme Beings of Leisure’s
sexy, Euro-croon
THE LAST GIRL ON EARTH fills the room.

Carrie slinks away,
in time to the music,
sipping her java.

INT. CARRIE’S BATHROOM - CONTINUOUS
Carrie, hot in black,
checks out her reflection.

CARRIE (V.O.)
I can’t remember when
I’d been so excited about a date.
I even got out the real perfume.

She squirts a cloud of scent.
Walks into it. COUGHS.

IN THE LIVING ROOM
Carrie changes CD’s --
ABC’S irresistible THE LOOK OF LOVE.

Big smile.
She lights a joint.

Inhales.
Closes her eyes.

Goes off somewhere to the music,
dancing, swirling --

The doorbell RINGS.
Carrie tenses.

Walks to the door,
opens it to reveal --

A tall tumbler of intoxication.
Laura in a tight, sheer
ankle-length number with
buttons all the way up the front.

With five, maybe six buttoned.
And nothing else.

LAURA
(listens)
Oh my god.
That’s my favorite song.

Their eyes lock.

CARRIE
(heart beating fast)
It’s -- my favorite song, too.

Laura TOSSES her handbag.
GRABS Carrie.

LAURA
How in the hell did I find you?

And they kiss.
Swimming in passion.
Fall to the floor.

Laura on top, insinuating
her splendor into Carrie’s grass.

CARRIE
The -- yellow pages?

The phone BR-RINGS.

LAURA
(devouring her, throaty)
Let the machine get it.

CARRIE
(under water)
It’s -- broken.

BR-RING. BR-RING.

LAURA
Godammit.

She WHIPS off a shoe.
FLINGS it at the intruder.
CRASH.

LAURA
(starts biting her neck)
Now -- where was I?

CARRIE
You were -- uh --

Laura gently cups
Carrie’s breasts.

LAURA
That’s right.
I was claiming what’s mine --

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

The Other White Meat



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 16 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, homicide detective Bernie Keko investigates yet another one of teenage serial killer Sparkle Plenty's victims. Meanwhile, as police chief Larry Lipshitz gives a press conference about the murders, we discover disgraced detective Carrie Love in bed with witness Dina Daerr watching it on TV... as is her porn star flame Laura Lang, in bed with her director ...


INT. FARMER’S DAUGHTER MOTEL - BATHROOM - DAY
At the crime scene,
BERNIE inspects Bruce’s steaming body,
char-broiled to a crisp --
like a big, bright red lobster.

Joining him is Detective JESUS VALENTINE,
a fireplug of restless anger
stuffed into the cheapest suit in the world.

KEKO
(wrinkles nose)
Pee-yoo.
Haven’t seen a scalding in awhile.
Talk about 'well done.'

VALENTINE
Smells like my mama’s cooking.

KEKO
The other white meat?

VALENTINE
No, rice and beans, man.
Got so fucking sick of
rice and fucking beans --
was dyin’ from that shit.
Saturday night was the one night
we’d have something different.
I can still smell it -- the sausage.

KEKO
That’s what I said,
'the other white meat.'

Jesus stares at Bernie, uncomprehending.

KEKO (CONT’D)
Pork, Jesus. Pork.

VALENTINE
You think just because I’m
a fucking Mexican we had fucking pork?
Well, fuck you, we were different,
man, we had -- Pizza.
Dominos, Shakey’s, Little Caesar’s,
even Wolfgang Fuckin’ Puck.
We ran the gamut on that shit.
(beat)
Weird. He smells like fucking pizza.

KEKO
Hey, I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean to -- you know.

VALENTINE
(looks at the body)
Must be Italian or shit.
Got that European 'bathe once a week'
kinda thing goin’ on.
(beat)
It’s fuckin’ uncivilized, man.
No wonder the killer did it
in the fucking shower.

INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT
From behind, we see Laura’s beautiful tush.
She turns toward us, grabs a razor --
and steps into the shower.

IN THE SHOWER
The razor slides across a shiny, perfect thigh.

LAURA
(sings)
On the night you murdered love --

A TELEVISION NEWS BROADCAST
A stiff, HANDSOME ANCHOR and a gorgeous
LATINA ANCHORWOMAN, shellacked hair,
grim frozen smile,
lean into THE CAMERA --

HANDSOME ANCHOR
We take you now to a press conference
in front of police headquarters, where --

LATINA ANCHORWOMAN
Brock Bradley is on the scene --
(dramatic pause)
Brock -- we’ve been told Larry Lipshitz,
chief detective, LA homicide --
is going to make a statement.

SPLIT SCREEN WITH:

EXT. POLICE HEADQUARTERS - FRONT STEPS - NIGHT
A gaggle of PRESS, ONLOOKERS and
COPS surround a podium crammed with mikes.
Larry Lipshitz takes a swig of Maalox.

BROCK BRADLEY
a vacant John Tesh on steroids
grips his mike, cocks his head,
gazes into THE CAMERA.

BROCK
That’s right, Lina.
They’re about to start any minute now --

YELLING MAN (O.S.)
Fuck you, stop pushing!
Unfair to the Guild!
Writers have rights!

HANDSOME ANCHOR
Holy homicide, Brock --
what the heck’s goin’ on down there?

BROCK
Well, there’s a couple of
protest groups out here, Biff --
one of them’s a group
from the Writer’s Guild --
they’re saying it’s
unfair to blame them,
and refer to the killings as
'cinema copycat crimes' --

LINA
And what’s the other group, Brock?

BROCK
I’m glad you asked, Lina --
protesting against Hollywood
marketing violence to children --
the Christian Unified Nation of Teachers.

The beauty spells out
the letters to herself. Gasps.

BROCK (CONT'D)
There’s Lipshitz.

BIFF
And not a moment too soon.

EXT. POLICE HEADQUARTERS - FRONT STEPS - CONTINUOUS
Larry tugs at his tie, loosens it.
Looks at the crowd.

LIPSHITZ
Thank you all for coming.
I know these are scary times we’re living in,
dark days in the city of angels.

He takes out a scrap of paper,
puts on his glasses.

SARCASTIC REPORTER
'City of angels?'
Who do you think you are,
Raymond Chandler?

LIPSHITZ
Nice to see you too, Mim.
What’s the matter,
didn’t get any last night?
(to the crowd)
I’m going to read a statement.
There’ll be no questions --

INT. KLAUS SPEER’S ESTATE - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT
Klaus lies sprawled on his king-sized canopied bed.
Swirls, sips cognac from an oversized snifter.
Watches the telly.

KLAUS
(to someone offscreen)
The fucking police have nothing.
Nothing. Just this, this -- statement.
It’s incredible, I tell you.
The killer’s some kind of twisted genius.

FEMALE VOICE (O.S.)
Takes one to know one.

KLAUS
Flattery’ll get you -- anything you want.

FEMALE VOICE (O.S.)
(sexy)
You’ll come in and help me douche, then?

KLAUS
Come back to bed, my little vixen --
I like your natural, animal -- scent.

He chuckles, eyes light up with mischief.

FEMALE VOICE (O.S.)
You Germans --

Laura walks in, naughty smile --
and naughtier lingerie.

LAURA
Are such kinky, naughty little devils.

INT. DINA’S BEACH HOUSE - BEDROOM - AT THE SAME TIME
Watching the news coverage is --
Dina, snuggled in bed with Carrie.

LIPSHITZ (O.S.)
This devil, this animal -- and bring him --
or her -- to justice once and for all.
And make the (BLEEP)ing streets
safe once again for
our law-abiding citizens.
(beat)
Pardon my metaphor. Sorry.

DINA
Your boss is an angry man.

CARRIE
You’d be angry too if you were my boss.
(grabs cigarette, lights up)
Be right back. Gotta pee.

She climbs out of bed.
Pads over to the bathroom.

DINA
You’re gonna miss all the fun.

IN THE BATHROOM
Carrie sits. Pees.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Didn’t see that one coming, did you?
You thought I was the hero?
Well, I’m sorry to puncture your balloon.
Tip your fucking applecart --
but life doesn’t always have a happy ending.
Now if you’ll excuse me --
I’ve got a thoroughbred
waiting for me in her bed.
And I’d like to give her a little sugar.
(beat)
Cause when the going gets tough --
the tough get laid.

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Freaky Fido



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 15 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, homicide detective Bernie Keko visits the morgue to examine teenage serial killer Sparkle Plenty's latest victim, and is horrified at the viciousness of the crime. Meanwhile, suspended detective Carrie Love and porn star Laura Lang meet cute at Club Fuck ...


INT. MORGUE - DAY
Brightly lit, antiseptic.
Deep-freeze cold.

Bernie stands by the door,
listening on his cell phone.

Two Medical Examiner PARAMEDICS,
KENNY, white, and KENDRICK, black,
wheel in a BODY BAG on a gurney.

KENNY
You get your skins?
She give you a lil’ somethin-somethin?

The cultured, British national stops the cart.

KENDRICK
(quiet, nasty)
You redneck git -- I’m from London,
stop with the bloody Ebonics.

Bernie talks into his cell.

KEKO
Carrie, if you’re there, pick up.
I know you’re mad,
and I don’t blame you,
but something’s happened.
We need you to --
(beat)
Fuck.
(sees the body)
Is that the motel room -- ?

KENNY
Freak show? Uh -- yeah.
Goddamn thought I’d seen everything.
Fucking Alpo time, dude.

KENDRICK
I must say I was impressed
with the attention to detail.
The victim is not only wearing
a choke chain and a collar,
but according to his tags --
it would appear he’s had
all his vaccinations.

KENNY
Rows and rows of the shit.
We’re talking major hypodermic action,
fuckin’ AIDS five-hundred.

KEKO
(walks over)
Open up the cinch-sack.

The big Jamaican-Brit zips open
the grey plastic, revealing --
the HIPSTER CLERK.
Wearing the dog costume.

KEKO
Kinky. Disembowel freaky Fido.

Kendrick zips down
the furry body, revealing --

The clerk’s chest.
Stippled with rows of
vicious puncture wounds
like bloody dominoes.

KEKO
Whoever did this skipped
their anger management class.
(looks closer)
It looks like a -- pattern.

KENNY
Like someone played a buncha
'pick-6’s' on his six-pack.

KENDRICK
(to Kenny)
I told you -- it’s a message.
(to Bernie)
It’s the killer’s autograph.

Bernie stares at the human pincushion.
Gets an idea.

KEKO
(to Kenny)
Take off your shirt.

KENNY
What?

KEKO
(whips out a gun)
I said take off your shirt,
you fucking rube.
In case you haven’t noticed it,
we’ve got a human chia pet here
leaking out the evidence.

He clicks the safety.
The good ol’ boy strips off his top.

Bernie grabs the pale blue cotton,
places it on the body.

CLOSE ON --
Rows of red wounds.
Stippled in patterns.

The crimson dots bleed.
Start to connect. Form words.

I’d like to thank the Academy,
my Mom, God, my agent --

EXT. CLUB FUCK - NIGHT
A smallish grey building
deep in the bowels of Hollywood.

A pulsing, industrial grind
bleeds outside from within.

INT. CLUB FUCK - CONTINUOUS
Carrie sits at the bar,
drowning everything.

Sorrows. Joy. Hopes.
Dreams. Self-esteem.

She pours a tall shot
from a bottle of Jagermeister.

Toasts the throng.
Downs it.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Figures I’d get stood up.
I knew it was too good to be true.
Fucking porn star --
(pours another shot)
I once had a shrink who said
I lived in my own little world.
That I’ve lived most of my life -- alone.
(downs it)
Well, maybe that’s because
everyone I’ve ever fucking known --
except my mom and my dog --
ended up letting me down.
Makes a girl a little finicky
about who she hangs out with.
And the way I look at it,
I’m pretty good fucking company.
(pours another)
But the thing is --
there’s just one problem.
It’s not working anymore.
(raises glass)
It seems that whenever
I try to do things my way --
it blows up in my fucking face.

And she slams it.
Grimaces. Closes her eyes.

EXT. CLUB FUCK - LATER
Party kids spill onto the sidewalk.
Carrie weaves out the door.

Fumbles in her purse,
pulls out a smoke.

LAURA
There you are.

CARRIE
Oh, hi.
(beat)
I never -- found you in there.

LAURA
(teasing)
That’s a shame.
I had my top off for an hour --
before I got busted.

CARRIE
Uh -- security?

LAURA
No. My date.
He finally found me.

CARRIE
(looks around)
Where’s he now?

LAURA
(evil)
I finally lost him.

CARRIE
Oh.
(beat)
So --

LAURA
So?

CARRIE
So -- can I get --
your phone number?

LAURA
(writes on Carrie’s hand)
Don’t wash it off, now.
(doesn’t let go)
You’ll regret it.

CARRIE
Thanks.

LAURA
(squeezes)
Call me.

CARRIE
I will.
(beat)
So -- I guess, um --

Long pause.
There’s no one else in the world.

LAURA
So -- aren’t you gonna kiss me?

CARRIE
(melts)
Uh -- yeah.

They kiss. Soft. Tender.

APPLAUSE.
They break apart.

A CROWD OF ONLOOKERS
cheer.

Carrie looks down.
Embarrassed.

LAURA
You better go home,
Miss Legs, and get some rest.
(beat)
I got plans for you.

PUSH IN on Carrie’s face.
Suddenly sober.

CARRIE
(whispers)
P-p-plans -- for me?

Monday, April 15, 2013

Dirty Little Girl



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.

In Chapter 14 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, the plot thickens when suspended homicide detective Carrie Love and officer Ilona Ramirez stake out murder witness Dina Daerr and hear her talking about the 'accidental snuff film' with a mysterious German, who just happens to be hanging out with Carrie's new flame, porn star Laura Lang ...


EXT. OCEAN AVENUE - NIGHT
Dina’s 100k convertible cruises
past the Santa Monica pier.

The sleek German vehicle
slows, makes a turn into --

EXT. DINA’S BEACH HOUSE - CONTINUOUS
A big, Cape Cod-style place
on a primo lot on the beach.

The Benz pulls in. Parks.
Dina gets out. Goes inside.

ON THE STREET
Ilona’s black ghost
pulls up to the curb.

INT. DINA’S BEACH HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
The rumpled beauty throws off her purse,
pick up a remote, punches on MUSIC --
some 60’s swinging cocktail croon.

Happily swerves down a hallway.

IN THE KITCHEN
She POPS the cork
off a bottle of wine.

IN THE VAN
They listen on headsets.

ILONA
Someone’s getting a buzz.

CARRIE
The question is --
is she alone?

IN THE KITCHEN
She dials a number on her cell.
Sips her merlot.

DINA
Klaus?

SPLIT SCREEN WITH:

INT. KLAUS SPEER’S STUDIO - EDIT BAY - AT THE SAME TIME
Klaus barks into his headset,
eyes flashing.

KLAUS
You’re late.
Do you have any idea
how bad you’ve been?

DINA
(bows head)
I’m sorry -- sir.

KLAUS
(SLAPS the counter)
Did you bring home the dailies?

DINA
I’m afraid I -- I --
(beat)
Left them at the studio.
I, uh -- forgot.
We had an -- an emergency.

KLAUS
You forgot?
You left them at the studio?
(ominous)
What kind of 'emergency?'

Pause.

DINA
I -- shot someone.
Killed them.
It was a mistake --
they weren’t supposed
to be real bullets.

KLAUS
You nasty -- filthy --
dirty little girl.
How could you do that.
After all I’ve done for you.
I can’t begin to
express my disappointment.
My complete dismay.
(beat)
Such a bad, bad girl.
Do you know what we do
to dirty little bad girls?

INSIDE THE VAN
Silence.
Dina breathes heavily.

DINA (O.S.)
You -- you --

CARRIE
(aroused)
What?

Ilona stares at her.

CARRIE
What. Don’t look at me like that.
(beat)
You’re taping this, right?

IN KLAUS’ STUDIO
He smiles into the wireless
clipped to his leather jacket.

KLAUS
We start principal photography.

ACROSS THE ROOM
Laura sits in a director’s chair.
Sips from a glass of wine.

LAURA
And let the bodies
fall where they may --

Friday, April 12, 2013

Lady Dick



Hey there, crime kids. Happy Friday. 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 13 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, suspended homicide dick Carrie Love enlists the help of a friend to continue her investigation, teenage serial killer Sparkle Plenty has fun with her latest victim, and detective Bernie Keko listens to a tape made by Sparkle found at her latest crime ...


EXT. POLICE HEADQUARTERS - PARKING LOT - NIGHT
From a distance we see Dina
chatting with her GUCCI ATTORNEY.
Definitely the 'big guns.'

CARRIE
charges outside, muttering to herself.

CARRIE
Why don’t you just whip them out,
see who’s got the bigger --

She sees Dina. Stops.

The brunette beauty
and her lawyer shake hands.
He leaves.

Dina sees Carrie.
Turns, briskly goes to her car.

CARRIE
turns around. Sprints off toward --

A SURVEILLANCE SUV
A tricked-out monstrosity with blackened windows.
Carrie RAPS a drumbeat. Then again.
The door opens with a PFFUT, and --

Out pops ILONA RAMIREZ,
a curvy bullet of a woman
stuffed into a leather catsuit.

Armed to the gills.
Packing, too.

ILONA
Hey there, spitfire.
What’cha got on the grill?

CARRIE
I need to borrow your van.
(pulls out wad of cash)
Rent it, actually.
I’m on hiatus.

ILONA
I told you, it’s not a van,
it’s a fuckin’ SUV, girlfren --
got eight cylinders, microwave DSL,
heat-seaking stealth mikes.
This is the law enforcement shit, lady dick.

CARRIE
Please accept my profuse apologies --
(ton of subtext)
Ilona.

ILONA
Put away the bankroll.
I’m driving.

CARRIE
This could be dangerous, Lona.

ILONA
Yeah, right.
That’s what you said
that night on the beach in San Juan.

CARRIE
Don’t remind me.
I’m still having lower back problems.

EXT. 'THE INTERNATIONAL' MOTEL - NIGHT
Ridiculous. Flags from around the world
painted on a cinder block bunker.
Behind a gas station in 'The Hood.’ Hello.

INT. MOTEL ROOM - CONTINUOUS
My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult’s
DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS.

Sexy -- oozing promises of pleasure.
Pain. Release.

The HIPSTER VIDEO CLERK
is in a human-size dog costume,
tied up with electrical tape on the couch.

The head sits nearby.
Sparkle fastens a ball gag in his mouth.

SPARKLE
Good boy, that’s a good boy.
Now we’re gonna play a few tricks.

The clerk jerks up, stands.
Fights against his restraints.

Sparkle WHACKS him on the ass
with a wooden paddle.

SPARKLE
(whacks on each 'bad')
Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad -- boy!
No treats for you!
(WHACK)
I told Mama not to
get a stray from the pound.
She pulls out a huge, gleaming,
hooked fish-gutting knife.

SPARKLE
Now look what you’re making me do.

The boy’s eyes flash frightened tears.

SPARKLE
I know, it makes me cry
when we have to put doggie to sleep.

INT. POLICE STATION - LIPSHITZ’ OFFICE - NIGHT
Bernie sits across from Larry’s desk.

A half-dozen HOMICIDE DETECTIVES
stand around, chatting, drinking coffee.

Lipshitz looks like shit,
eyes hollow sockets.

He pulls out a brown bottle.
Pours some into his coffee.
Takes a sip.

LIPSHITZ
(to Bernie)
My wife was crying last night,
couldn’t get any sleep,
we were up all night --
(beat)
We gotta get this -- succubus, Bernie.

KEKO
I’m there like white on rice, Lare.

LIPSHITZ
Thanks for the banality, Bernie.
It’s oddly comforting.
(looks around)
Alright, everybody listen up.
We got another tape.
(beat)
Actually, it’s a CD.
The killer’s gone digital.

WISEASS DETECTIVE
Let’s hear it,
I’m getting a chubby already.

LIPSHITZ
Shut the fuck up MacDonald, you prick.
You think this is funny?

MACDONALD
No, sir --
I was just trying to lighten the mood.
They say that humor during a time of crisis --

KEKO
Why don’t you go to the morgue, MacDonald,
get laid, and leave us to the detecting.

MACDONALD
Fuck you, Keko --
you’re just pissed off cause your wife
went bearded clam-digging.
(bad Brit accent)
Shall we shag-carpet-munch now,
or should we shag-carpet munch later?

The detectives chuckle.

LIPSHITZ
SHUT UP.

Silence.

LIPSHITZ
Now pay attention -- this one’s a doozy.

He goes to a boombox, punches a button.
The sexy coo of Donna Summer’s
LOVE TO LOVE YOU BABY oozes into the room.

LIPSHITZ
Dammit.

COLACCHIO
Love the gay disco, chief.
Somethin’ you wanna tell us?

LIPSHITZ
Fuck you. It’s my daughter’s --
(changes CDs)
Okay. Now everybody shut the fuck up.

Lipshitz hits the ‘play’ button.
The Ramones come on,
the catchy pop-punk of PET SEMATARY.

JOEY RAMONE
(singing)
I don’t want to be buried,
in a pet cemetery,
I don’t want to live my life again --

The music fades, and we hear --

SPARKLE (V.O.)
(sings along)
And the night when the wolves cry out,
listen careful, and you can hear me shout --
I don’t I don’t want to be buried,
in a pet cemetery --
(giggles)
Thanks for tuning in.
It’s time to par-tay, dog-gone it.
(laughs)
Damn, I crack myself up.
Gotta watch that.
A shredded corpse is no laughing matter,
isn’t that right, awficer?
(sings)
Hey, officer Krupke,
I feel pretty, oh so pretty --

KEKO
Broad babbles more than Courtney Love on crank.

SPARKLE (V.O.)
Paramount Pictures released
PET SEMATARY in 1988, a solid base hit.
The ten million dollar budget was well spent,
considering that it grossed
twenty-five million domestically --
and that’s not counting
international and ancillary revenues.
(beat)
Steven King doesn’t consider it
to be a good adaptation of his novel,
since the director went with a semi-comedic tone,
which hurts the scare factor, I must say.
(beat)
But still, it’s good, clean, sick fun.
A personal fave.
Two thumbs up my vag, thas’ fah shure.
(beat)
Today’s installation is an example
of what happens when a petty little dog turd
uses his power over people.
Well, this is the end of the line,
chopping down the family cherry tree, bub.
Buster Hymen time.
(spooky)
Don’t forget --
to spay and neuter your pet.

Then, the sickly sound of a
knife making rapid puncture wounds --
THWIK-THWIK-THWIK-THWIK-
THWIK-THWIK-THWIK-THWIK.

A chill runs through the room.
Keko leans forward, in shock.

LIPSHITZ
Here’s where it really gets good --

SPARKLE (V.O.)
Film is a collaborative art --
but since I’m an orphan,
I need parenting, guidance.
A firm, loving hand to --
to stop me before I --
(beat)
I’ve got my adoption papers.
Can the 42nd Precinct’s golden couple
save me before the end of the third act?

KEKO
Holy shit.

LIPSHITZ
Whaddaya think, Daddy?

KEKO
I think -- I gotta go find Carrie.

LIPSHITZ
First go take a look at the body.
And brace yourself.
Crime scene tech still
can’t keep anything down.

PUSH IN on Bernie’s face.
Not excited.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Seventh-Inning Stretch



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 12 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, homicide detective Carrie Love gets suspended for her 'unorthodox interrogation techniques.' Meanwhile, teenage serial killer Sparkly Plenty visits her local cult video store looking for some 'inspiration' ...


INT. POLICE HEADQUARTERS - CORRIDOR - EXIT - NIGHT
Larry chases after Carrie and Bernie.

LIPSHITZ
I hate surprises, Legs.
Tell me what she said.

CARRIE
(pushes the door open)
We can’t tell you yet, Lare --
don’t want to let the
cat out of her pants.
But I promise, when I do --
you’ll be the first to know.

KEKO
(blocks the door)
She’s lying, Carrie.
You’re so full of shit
it makes my head spin.
(to Larry)
We got bupkiss, chief.

CARRIE
'Bupkiss?' Nice vocabulary.
Get the fuck out of my way.

KEKO
Nice mouth. Officer.
(to Larry)
She promised Miss Range Rover immunity --
and all she did was give up her boss.

CARRIE
I’ll give you something
if you don’t get out of my way.

LIPSHITZ
Stop right where you are, you two.
You’ve got some ‘splaining to do.

CARRIE
The Ricky Ricardo routine
isn’t gonna work this time, chief.
Just let me do my job.
Don’t I always get results?

Pause.

LIPSHITZ
I like you Carrie,
I really like you.
In spite of your attitude,
your insults, your total disregard
for procedure -- I like you.
(beat)
That’s why this kills me.
But I’m afraid I’m going to
have to ask for your
badge and your gun.
You’re suspended for a week.

CARRIE
What?

KEKO
Yes!

CARRIE
You’re suspending me?

LIPSHITZ
Like a Catholic girl
who’s been caught with her hand
in the cookie puss.
(beat)
Your badge and your gun, Carrie.
Please.

She bitterly, painfully --
hands them over.

LIPSHITZ (CONT’D)
You wanna know what the straw was
that bent the camel’s dick?

CARRIE
To be honest with you, Lare --
I could really give a shit.
There’s a copycat serial killer
working her way through the
hot 100 movie murders --
and you’re gonna take me
out of the game?

LIPSHITZ
Consider it a seventh-inning stretch.
(beat)
Daerr’s lawyer hit the roof.
You kept the ice princess
in a holding cell for an hour --
and then an interrogation room for three.
Without counsel. A phone call.
Or a trip to the fucking head.
When the shyster finally got to her,
after her father called him --
she’d wet her pants.

KEKO
That’s a shame.
Those were nice pants.

CARRIE
I was trying a new strategy.

KEKO
Nicotine withdrawal’s a bitch.
And so are you.

LIPSHITZ
Do you know who the fuck
her father is?

CARRIE
Some rich asshole?

LIPSHITZ
Think dinosaurs.
Feel-good concentration camp comedies.
Cuddly, sexless aliens.

PUSH IN on Carrie’s face.
Light bulb flickering.

DISSOLVE TO:

An E.T. T-SHIRT.
Faded. Original owner.

CAMERA pulls back to reveal --

INT. FARMER’S DAUGHTER MOTEL - CORRIDOR - NIGHT
The shirt is worn by a PRETTY MEXICAN MAID (18).

She pushes a cart
in front of Sparkle’s door.
KNOCK-KNOCKS.

IN THE BATHROOM
Bruce jerks against his restraints.
BANG, BANGS on the pipe.

IN THE HALLWAY
The maid hears something, but --

ANGRY MALE BOSS (O.S.)
Effie! I toldya to clean up the bathroom in 12 --
the crime scene is gone,
and you gotta get the brains right away,
before they hard’n up.

PUSH IN ON the maid’s face.
She closes her eyes.

IN THE BATHROOM

CLOSE ON --
Bruce’s eyes. Bugged out.
In terror -- and tears.

INT. VIDEO STORE - NIGHT
Sparkle cruises the aisles.
Home at last.

A SIGN
reads CULT.

SPARKLE
picks out a DVD, examines it.

THE TAPE
reads in glorious Technicolor,
THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE.

SPARKLE
makes a face. Nope.

SPARKLE
Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Again.

ANOTHER DVD
reads THE HONEYMOON KILLERS.

SPARKLE
rolls her eyes. As if.

SPARKLE
Kitch me with a spoon.

DISSOLVE TO:
Movie art.

Shimmering with light.
PET SEMATARY.

Sparkle hugs it to her chest.
Absolutely delighted.

SPARKLE
See Spot. See Spot run.
(beat)
See Spot’s brains
splattered in the street.

AT THE COUNTER
A snotty, HIPSTER CLERK
looks at Sparkle’s selections.

HIPSTER CLERK
'Pet Sematary.' Funny movie.
Props to Mary Lambert.

SPARKLE
(weird smile)
Watch it, bub.
Comedy isn’t pretty.
It can kill ya.

HIPSTER CLERK
(looks at the register)
You’re, uh -- credit card declined.

SPARKLE
No way. Do it again.
Machine’s fucked up.

HIPSTER CLERK
I’ve tried it twice, doll.
You’re maxed. Tough toenails.

SPARKLE
(too nice)
Well then, you have a --
great day, there, Mister.

EXT. VIDEO STORE - NIGHT
Sparkle lies in wait in
the rear alley behind a dumpster.

SPARKLE
We guarantee.
You’ll go home happy.

The back door opens.
Out walks Mr. Cool.

Sparkle JUMPS him.
JABS a STUN GUN to his neck.

SPARKLE
I wanna talk to you
about your late return policy --

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Stump The Chick



Hey there, crime kids. Happy Wednesday. 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 11 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, teenage serial killer Sparkle Plenty plays a nasty game with wannabe director Bruce Ball, her latest victim. Meanwhile, homicide detective Carrie Love uses a rather unorthodox interrogation technique on Dina Daerr, Bruce's 'head of production' ...


INT. FARMER’S DAUGHTER MOTEL - BATHROOM - DAY
Some perverse Serge Gainsbourg
60’s go-go groove over --

Bruce Ball gagged and handcuffed
under a SCALDING HOT SHOWER.

Twisting and turning in agony
in a cloud of steam.

Sparkle talks into a microcassette
in her glitter-nailed fist.

In the other,
a big, shiny BUTCHER KNIFE.

SPARKLE
PSYCHO was released by
Universal Pictures in 1960.
It made forty-million at the box office,
a big hit back then,
especially for a black and white picture.
It made a star out of Tony Perkins --
and gave us the Bates Motel,
where check-out time is for good.

A muffled SCREAM under the duct tape.

SPARKLE
And that’s our victim.
A petty, immature little man
with a big mouth.
Someone who looks at women as objects --
not as people.

A loud KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK at the door.

ISRAELI MANAGER (O.S.)
Miss Plenty!
Turn yo-ur museek down!
I’m not goink to tell yoo again!

AT THE DOOR
she opens it a crack
against the tiny chain.

SPARKLE
Oh gosh, I’m sorry Mr. Shlomo --
I guess I got that disco fever again.
I’ll keep it down, I promise.

ISRAELI MANAGER (O.S.)
Yoo better!
Else yoo have to leave, yoo hear me?
Yoo play that weird music, too loud,
alla time, too loud!

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY
Dina sits alone at a table.
She picks up a pack of smokes.
Empty. SLAPS them down.

CARRIE (O.S.)
She’s going nuts by now.
It’s been three hours.

KEKO (O.S.)
Withholding nicotine.
Don’t remember learning
that one at the Academy.

Dina stands.
Walks over to mirror
filling the opposite wall.

Regards her reflection.
Adjusts her hair.

DINA
(to the mirror)
I know you’re back there.
I want my lawyer.
This is unconstitutional.

BEHIND THE MIRROR
in the darkness backlit
by the interrogation lamps --

KEKO
You hear that?
Lipshitz is gonna
pass a kidney stone.
We can’t just hold her
and not question her.

CARRIE
(looks at her watch)
Yes we can.
She’s gonna spill her guts
faster than a horny heiress
on a Barbara Walters special.
(beat, to the door)
C’mon -- let’s play stump the chick.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Carrie lights a smoke,
takes a deep drag.
Exhales. Smiles.

CARRIE
You’re full of crap.
Someone killed Miss Runner-Up,
wanted to kill you --
and we both know who it was.
I’ve heard of loyalty to your boss --
but this is bordering on the domestic.

DINA
Bruce didn’t do it.
This white trash Paris Hilton --

KEKO
-- Just wandered in,
killed your actress,
and hung you up like a pinata
while Zalman King made his getaway?

DINA
Fuck you.
I want to call my lawyer.

Carrie shakes out a smoke.
Teases her with it.

CARRIE
Shhhhh. Don’t worry.
I know you’re innocent.
I can smell it.
(holds it up to her nose)
Mmm. Even better after sex --

Something passes between them.

Dina GRABS the Marlboro.
Carrie lights it.

DINA
You promise me immunity?
Cut me a deal?

CARRIE
Is Lindsay Lohan back on Rodeo Drive?

DINA
Okay. Okay. Okay.
(takes a drag, orgasmic)
We were supposed to be
shooting a fake snuff film,
Bruce said we were using blanks,
but what he didn’t tell me was --

INT. FARMER’S DAUGHTER MOTEL - BATHROOM - AT THAT MOMENT
Bruce lies in the tub,
trussed up like a pig on a spit.

He moans.
Sparkle leans over,
blows him a kiss.

SPARKLE
Playing with you is
like eating a box of chocolates.
(beat)
Afterwards you gotta
stick your fingers down your throat.
(beat)
Now don’t move a muscle,
Mr. Murder victim.
I want you to stay right here
while I go shopping.
I’m gonna bring home a big surprise --

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

The House Of Mirth



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 10 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, homicide detective Carrie Love and her partner/ex-husband Bernie Keko search wannabe director Bruce Ball's basement soundstage and make a horrific discovery ...


EXT./INT. CARRIE’S PORCHE - DAY
A surf-guitar cop theme
percolates under the action.

The ‘61 coupe whizzes around
curves on Sunset Boulevard.

CARRIE
(on cell phone)
I’ve got a score to settle with him,
the little fucker.
I can’t wait to --

SPLIT SCREEN WITH:

EXT./INT. BERNIE’S LINCOLN SUV - CONTINUOUS

KEKO
(on cell phone)
What? Rough him up a little?
Punch out his lights?
Do the tough girl,
macho cop thing you do so well?

CARRIE
I seem to remember a time
you liked the tough girl,
macho cop thing.
Used to beg me for it.

KEKO
That was the problem, Carrie --
having to beg.

CARRIE
Well, you know what they say
about passion, bucko.
(beat)
Sometimes you feel like nuts --
sometimes you don’t.

CLOSE ON --
Carrie’s face.

She smiles mysteriously,
goes off somewhere.

Remembering --

EXT. HOLLYWOOD HILLS MANSION - DRIVEWAY - FLASHBACK - DAY
Carrie stands at her car.
Opens the door. Slides in.

LAURA (O.S.)
So you’re going to leave
without saying goodbye.

LAURA
stands in front of the house
at the top of the steps.

Mock-hurt.
Insinuating.
Hands on hips.

CARRIE
turns, looks. Gulp.

CARRIE
(heart beating wildly)
I was looking for you,
but you were -- you were --

Suddenly Laura’s right beside her.

LAURA
Working?

CARRIE
Uh -- yeah.

Laura leans into the car window.
Inches away.

LAURA
I’m going to Club Fuck tonight.
I’ll be with a date, but it’s a ruse.
(beat)
Doing anything tonight?

EXT. BALL’S PRODUCTION OFFICE - DRIVEWAY - DAY
Carrie and Bernie get out of their cars.
SLAM the doors.

CARRIE
And here we are.
The House of Mirth.

KEKO
It looks so -- suburban.

They walk to the door.
Carrie RINGS the doorbell.

KEKO
I wish we had a warrant.

CARRIE
(rings again)
Fuck the warrant.
We’re going in.

They look at the door.
No response.

CARRIE
(pushes the door open)
C’mon, maybe we can catch
the little shit in the act.

INT. BALL’S PRODUCTION OFFICE - BASEMENT STAIRS - CONTINUOUS
Twin flashlights sweep across the darkness.
Carrie and Bernie creep down the wooden steps.

CARRIE
Little perverts’ got
quite a setup goin’ on here.

KEKO
Think this guy saw
'Silence of the Lambs?'

CARRIE
Found it.

The lights SNAP ON.

KEKO
Holy fuck.

IN THE CORNER
is the dead MODEL,
still in her chair.
A bloody puppet.

A clapboard on her lap
reads 52 PICK-UP.
DELETED SCENE.

CARRIE (O.S.)
I think I’m gonna be sick.

KEKO (O.S.)
Fuck, there’s another one.

IN THE OPPOSITE CORNER
Dina dangles from a noose.
Dressed like a cheerleader.

Eyes closed forever.
And the poor baby wet her pants.

A clapboard on her waist reads
HEATHERS. BLOOPER REEL.

CARRIE’S
lips quiver. Livid.
About to explode.

CARRIE
Of all the twisted --
fucked up -- depraved --

KEKO
The killer’s one hell of a freak.

CARRIE
This goes way beyond that.
She thinks she’s creating -- art.

Carrie goes to the
gently swinging body.

KEKO
Don’t touch her.
She’s evidence.

But she does.
And flinches.

CARRIE
And still warm.

KEKO
Check her pulse.

Dina’s eyes SNAP open.

DINA
My pulse is fine.
But my neck is
fucking killing me --

Monday, April 8, 2013

Take Me To Your Soundstage



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.

In Chapter 9 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, wannabe director Bruce Ball and his production assistant Dina Daerr 'accidentally' shoot a snuff film in his basement studio ... but the tables get turned when teenage serial killer Sparkle Plenty shows up at the door ...


INT. BALL’S PRODUCTION OFFICE - BASEMENT - DAY
The PRETTY MODEL we saw earlier
testing for the beer ad is now
naked, gagged and tied to a chair.

A scrap of plywood across her chest.
Eyes screaming pure, animal terror.

Bruce frames the scene
through a digital video camera.

BRUCE
The lamp.
Move it just a little more.

DINA makes the adjustment.

DINA
This is gonna look so real.
(looks at the model)
I mean, check it out.
She really thinks she’s gonna die.

BRUCE
Shhh. Suspend your disbelief.
(beat)
Places, please.

Dina goes to the table.
Faces the bim.

BRUCE (O.S.)
And -- action.

CAMERA POV
The statuesque beauty
slowly removes her lux jacket --

Revealing an hourglass shape in a merry widow.
And a black leather shoulder holster.

She reaches behind, slides out the Magnum --
and takes aim.

The Model JERKS against the ropes,
muffled gagging SCREAMS.

DINA
(with relish)
By the power invested in me,
I now declare you to be
a complete waste of human life.
You did not cherish,
honor or obey -- anything.
You spent your days chasing
fame, fortune and the almighty dollar.
(beat)
I now sentence you to
the swift end of a pathetic life.
Your final gift to humanity
will be this short film --
a sacrifice to the dark angel we pray to.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

CLOSE ON --
The model slumped over in the chair.

Bullet holes in the wood.
Blood seeping down her body.

DINA (O.S.)
Oh my god! Holy shit!
Holy fuck! I’ve shot her!
You said we were using blanks!

BRUCE
stares in disbelief.
Then, the barest hint of smile.

BRUCE
We were -- I thought we were.
(beat)
At least now we know it looks realistic.

DINA
Realistic? Realistic!?
I just fucking killed someone!

A doorbell RINGS.

BRUCE
Shit.

EXT. BALL’S PRODUCTION OFFICE - FRONT DOOR - CONTINUOUS
It’s SPARKLE. Looking more than a little cute
in overall shorties, platform clogs,
hair in ponytails.

She presses the button again.

SPARKLE
I’ll huff and I’ll puff,
and I’ll blow your pants down.

She giggles.

IN THE BASEMENT
BRUCE
(goes to the door)
Calm down, calm down, calm down.
Stay here with the -- girl.
I’ll get rid of whoever it is.
Then we’ll come up with a plan.

DINA
That’s what you said
on that shoot in Darfur.

IN THE FOYER
Sparkle confronts Bruce with her splendor.

SPARKLE
I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.

BRUCE
No, not at all.
I’m glad you came by.
We were just downstairs shooting someone.
Something. Shooting something.

SPARKLE
Cool.
You still wanna -- shoot me?

BRUCE
I do, I do --
but now’s not a good time.
This actress, is uh -- difficult, and --

Sparkle whips out handcuffs --
and SNAP, click. Gotcha.

Pulls out a DERRINGER.
Aims, cocks it.

SPARKLE
Tough toenails.
Take me to your soundstage.
I’ve got a score to settle with you, mini-man.