Tuesday, January 28, 2014
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 14 of LEGS, Episode 3, private eye Carrie Love uses her 'basic instincts' when she and her ex-husband/ex-partner, homicide dick Bernie Keko interrogate the guy who stole Bernie's father's wife's car after she was kidnapped ...
INT. POLICE STATION - INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY
A plain cinder block room with a
small table, two chairs and the
obligatory two-way mirror on the wall.
Seedy-Looking Car Thief
sits in one of the chairs
smoking a cigarette.
Like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz,
I wanted to click my heels
three times and chant
'there’s no place like home,
there’s no place like home -- '
Except after getting shit-canned
from the department for boffing
the chief’s underaged daughter,
I felt more like the Cowardly Lion
at a leather bar in West Hollywood
on ‘Fist night.’
IN THE HALLWAY OUTSIDE
Bernie and Carrie talk with
LARRY LIPSHITZ, (50’s),
chief of detectives, small and round,
and right now, very angry.
You gotta be fucking kidding me.
There’s no way in hell I’m gonna
let you bring her in on an interrogation.
Listen to me, Larry.
These dumb-shits kidnapped my MOTHER,
and this fucker stole her CAR,
which was probably parked
where they’ve got her.
They said ‘no cops,’
so Carrie’s helping me
with the case. I NEED her.
You gotta make an exception.
Just this once, please.
They’ve got my MOTHER.
I’ll be good.
When have I heard THAT before?
It’s just an interrogation, Larry.
And I’ll be there. C’mon.
We don’t have much time.
My mom’s a diabetic --
That’s right, I forgot.
Okay, okay, okay --
But none of that Basic Instinct shit, okay?
You flash your cooch like you did
last time, and your OUTTA here.
You wearing panties?
INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY
Carrie sits across from Seedy-Looking.
Bernie leans against the wall
glaring at him,
arms folded across his chest.
You were picked up
driving a stolen car, Leon.
We need to know where it was parked.
I’m not saying a word
until I speak to my lawyer.
We haven’t charged you yet, Leon.
If cooperate with us,
we can cut you a deal.
What part of
‘I want to talk to my lawyer’
didn’t you get?
Larry RUSHES OVER.
GRABS him by the shirt collar.
YANKS him up out of his chair.
Gets in his face.
SHUT THE FUCK UP.
Listen to me, you little piece of shit.
That was my MOTHER’S car,
and she was fucking KIDNAPPED in it.
If you tell us where
you fucking stole it from,
maybe we can RESCUE her, GOT it?
Let go of my fucking shirt, you freak.
What do you think this is, Rampart?
I can file CHARGES against you
for this shit.
Let go of him.
Let me handle this.
Go get a cup of coffee and chill out.
Bernie lets go of Leon.
Stares at Carrie.
Back in five.
Next time I won’t be so NICE.
He storms out.
SLAMS the door.
BEHIND THE TWO-WAY MIRROR
Stands Larry and a couple of DETECTIVES.
They were such a great team.
He takes it right up to the edge,
and she makes him back off.
Now that’s what I call 'an interrogation.'
IN THE INTERROGATION ROOM
Carrie pulls out a cigarette from the pack.
Lights one up.
Exhales a taunting French curl.
Crosses her legs.
Sorry about my partner.
He’s out of his mind
worrying about his mother.
I’m sure you’d be upset
if someone grabbed your mother.
My mother’s dead.
And she was cunt.
Carrie takes another hit.
Looks him right in the eye.
Uncrosses her legs.
Opens them wide.
Leon’s eyes bulge.
Tell me where you jacked the wheels
and we’ll drop all the charges.
You walk outta here right now a free man.
Leon stares, in a trance.
Behind a Gulf Stream double-wide
in that trailer park on Stewart
near the freeway overpass.
She slowly crosses her legs
in the other direction.
That wasn’t so hard, was it?
BEHIND THE TWO-WAY MIRROR
Larry does a slow burn.
(grins, to Asian Officer)
Sure wish I could freeze-frame THAT
I'd slow-mo the SHIT outta that.
(low, to himself)
The fucking bitch.
She did it again --