Monday, January 13, 2014
Where's John Grisham When You Need Him?
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 3 of LEGS, Episode 3, private eye Carrie Love meets with her brothers at the reading of their father's will and discovers they're trying to stop her from getting any money. Meanwhile, Carrie's ex's father wins the lottery, and then discovers his wife has been kidnapped ...
INT. LAW OFFICES - CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY
The theme from The Good, The Bad & The Ugly over --
A burnished, glossy, airbrushed joint
out of a Glenn Close wet dream.
Todd and Nate sit in plush chairs
on one side of the table with their ATTORNEYS,
a pair of stone-faced, smooth-looking hawks.
CARRIE’S ATTORNEY, a big, jovial-looking fellow
sits on the other side with Carrie.
It was my date with destiny.
Or her child, at least.
I was about to go head-to-head
with my younger brothers. ‘
Awkward’ doesn’t begin to cover it.
I felt like Richard Simmons
at a Chick Fil-A opening.
Todd glares at Carrie with utter contempt.
A vein on his temple throbs violently.
Nate looks stiff and awkward.
Maybe it’s because of the suit
he’s not used to wearing.
JACK HASSIG (60), Todd’s attorney,
tall and thin with a grey brush cut
the same shade as his suit smiles at Carrie.
Big eyes bulging to the point
of almost exploding.
CARRIE (V.O.) (CONT'D)
Get aload of this guy.
Better lay off the Red Bull, buster,
or your head’s gonna explode.
It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Love.
'Ms. Love,' please.
Get with the program.
We got equal rights
back in the seventies, remember?
Gloria Steinem? Susan Sontag?
We fought hard for that 'Ms.'
I’m sorry, Ms. Love.
SAUL BRAUNSTEIN (30’s), Nate’s attorney,
a young turk, slick in Armani
tries to hide his Dick Cheney-like sneer.
We’re glad you could make it this time.
Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.
It isn’t every day I
get to see my darling brothers.
Cue the Hallmark Moment.
BOB BALL (50), Carrie’s attorney
looks around the room.
So I gather the reason for this meeting
is to negotiate exactly how much Carrie
is going to get from her father’s estate?
That would be correct.
Well, I must say, I’m confused.
Carrie told me that the
last time she saw her father --
when they reconcileed after not
seeing or speaking to each other for ten years --
he said he wished there was something
he could do to change his will.
Edgar Love had an irrevocable trust,
which could not and cannot be changed,
so that statement was moot.
That may be true, but Carrie
also informed me that a signed,
original copy of his will was never found.
We’re still searching the files
in our off-site storage facility.
I’m sure a signed original will turn up.
But if it doesn’t, then the estate
is to be equally divided amongst his heirs.
If you try and pull that,
we’ll bury you in legal actions for years.
Can you afford a lengthy trial, Miss Love?
It’s MS. Love, jacksass.
Of course I can’t.
What the fuck?
Shhh. Let me handle it.
We’re prepared to offer MS. Love
five-hundred thousand dollars as a settlement.
You gotta be fucking KIDDING me.
That’s not ‘fuck you money.’
They’re gonna get ‘fuck you money.’
(puts his hand on her arm)
Gentlemen. Do you realize
how ludicrious your offer is?
You’re proposing that Todd and Nate
each get eight million,
and their older sister one-sixteenth of that?
That’s positively insulting.
Not to mention the fact that
taxes will take half of it.
I don’t understand why we can’t just
divide it into three equal shares.
(to Nate and Todd)
That would the civilized thing to do.
You don’t need to wear the bear skin
and carry a club anymore.
If I had my way,
you wouldn’t get one red cent.
I worked for him, YOU didn’t.
We’ve gone over this,
Mr. Short Attention Span.
You got FIRED, remember?
Look. The last thing our father said to me
was he wished there was a way
he could give me something.
Can’t you see he figured out a way to do it?
He destroyed the original will.
Brilliant move, I must say.
He didn’t destroy it.
We’re gonna find it.
And you’re okay with this, Judas?
I mean Nate?
Nate looks down.
Fidgeting in his chair.
Nate is acting on the advice of counsel.
So that’s it.
The silent treatment?
I was the only one that played with you
when you were a little kid, remember?
Does money mean more than family?
(to Jack and Saul)
I must say I’ve never seen anything like this
in thirty years of praticising law.
Carrie shakes her head.
Looks out the window.
(under her breath)
Where’s John Grisham when you need him?
EXT. BUNGALOW - DAY
An old, stately home on a leafy, middle-class street
in the heart of the cheap seats of Santa Monica.
Basil walks up to the front door.
Opens it. Goes in.
INT. BASIL’S BUNGALOW - LIVING ROOM - DAY
Heavy and quiet with old, mis-matched furniture.
But nice. Spotless.
Basil hums happily.
Pads across the room.
Honey, I’m home.
Did you see me on TV?
He looks around.
Then heads toward the kitchen.
INT. BASIL’S BUNGALOW - KITCHEN - DAY
Bright and cheerful, nice and neat.
Basil walks into the room, looks around.
He sees a message on the refrigerator
written in big block letters in black magic marker:
WE HAVE YOUR WIFE.
DO NOT CONTACT THE POLICE OR SHE WILL DIE.
WE WILL CALL YOU WITH OUR RANSOM DEMANDS.
- A FRIEND.
Holy shit. Oh my god. Holy shit.
(goes to the phone, dials)
Bernie. Thank god you’re there.
Your mother’s been kidnapped.
Meet me in the park down the street
in case they’re watching the house --