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 12 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, widowed trophy bitch Gay Flender is attacked in a home invasion with a twist ending. Meanwhile, torture porn filmmaker Phillie Pfugg and his wife Chinette shoot a fake snuff film that unexpectedly turns deadly ...
EXT. FLENDER ESTATE - FRONT LAWN - DAY
Sprinklers WHOOSH water
across the immaculate grounds.
INT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
Gay looks at her watch.
Anxious. Goes to the fridge.
Gets a bottle of wine.
Pours a glass.
Takes a sip. Thinking.
Rummages through her purse
on the counter.
Pulls out a vial.
Shakes out a pill.
GULPS it down.
More wine.
Suddenly the glass in the
outside patio door SHATTERS.
A GLOVED HAND reaches in.
YANKS the door open.
A FIGURE IN BLACK
wearing a stocking mask enters.
Gay SHRIEKS.
The intruder pulls out a GUN.
HOODED FIGURE
(muffled)
Shut the fuck up,
and you won’t get hurt.
Hooded walks up to her.
Leans in. Takes a whiff.
HOODED FIGURE
You smell nice.
(strokes her hair)
Feel nice.
(her cheek)
Soft. Real soft.
GAY
Please, I’ll --
do anything you want.
HOODED FIGURE
You got that right.
He GRABS her wrist.
YANKS her toward
the living room.
ON THE STAIRWAY
Hooded PUSHES her forward,
up the steps.
She TRIPS. Falls.
He PICKS HER UP.
Carries her into --
THE BEDROOM
where he THROWS
her on the king-size.
GAY
Please, don’t --
please don’t, kill me.
HOODED FIGURE
(SLAPS her face)
Shut up.
He SLAPS duct tape on her mouth.
Pulls out a large,
gleaming hooked KNIFE.
RIPS a button off her blouse.
TEARS it open.
Goes to her skirt.
YANKS it off.
Gay trembles.
Scared shitless.
He SNIPS off her bra.
Then her panties.
Hooded turns her on her stomach.
Drops his pants.
Enters her from behind.
Sharp, animal THRUSTS.
Gay CRIES OUT.
He grunts. Groans.
She moans.
Getting turned on.
Inflamed.
Hooded COMES violently.
Gay SHRIEKS with passion.
They stop.
Muscles clenched.
Then let go.
He rolls off her.
Reaches over.
YANKS off the tape.
Pulls off his stocking.
We see it’s MODI.
He turns to Gay. Beaming.
MODI
That was unbelievable.
We gotta do this again.
Gay smiles.
Fires up a smoke.
Exhales a French curl.
GAY
How about -- naughty Girl Scout
selling cookies?
PUSH IN ON Modi.
His crude, arrogant leer.
MODI
I’ll take two boxes
of the thin mints.
INT. PFUGG RESIDENCE - BASEMENT - AT THAT MOMENT
A gorgeous, faded B-MOVIE QUEEN
sits tied to a chair.
A scrap of plywood
strapped across her chest.
Mouth tightly gagged.
She struggles against her restraints.
KICKS the floor.
We recognize her as the star of
DEATH TAKES A HOLIDAY.
Phillie frames the scene
through a digital video camera.
CHINETTE
(whispers)
This is gonna look so real.
(looks at B-Movie)
I mean, check it out.
That’s Heather Dick.
From ‘La Cienega Place.’
One of my shows.
And she thinks she’s gonna die.
PHILLIE
(to Heather)
See what happens when you start
chasing the YouTube demographic?
(to Chinette)
Okay.
Time to suspend your disbelief.
Places, please.
Chinette finds her mark.
Facing Miss Dick.
PHILLIE (O.S.)
And -- action.
CAMERA POV
The muscle-woman
removes her hoodie --
Revealing an hourglass shape
in a merry widow.
And a black leather
shoulder holster.
She reaches behind,
slides out a PISTOL --
and takes aim.
B-Movie JERKS against the ropes,
muffled gagging screams.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
CLOSE ON --
Heather Dick.
Slumped over in the chair.
Bullet holes in the wood.
Blood seeping down her body.
CHINETTE (O.S.)
Oh my GOD, holy SHIT,
I’ve SHOT her!
(turns)
You said we were using BLANKS.
PHILLIE
stares in disbelief.
Then, the barest hint of smile.
PHILLIE
We were -- at least,
I thought we were.
(beat)
Well, at least we know
it looks -- realistic.
CHINETTE
Realistic? Realistic? REALISTIC?
I just fucking KILLED someone!
PUSH IN ON Phillie.
Cluck-clucking.
PHILLIE
Darling.
Haven’t you heard the phrase
'sacrificing for your art?'
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