A Tough Nut

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 39 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, it's a clusterfuck of epic proportions when Carrie, Jenny, Modi and Nikki converge at Gay Flender's mansion and start accusing each other of murder. Meanwhile, Bernie and Aya do the horizontal tango in their police cruiser ...


INT. FLENDER LIVING ROOM - AT THAT MOMENT
Carrie holds her gun on Modi and Gay,
seated on the couch.

Jenny stands by the fireplace,
watching.

CARRIE
(to Modi)
You’re the one
who shot at us.

MODI
I don’t know what
you’re talking about.

CARRIE
Your shoes are muddy --
and it’s a hell
of a coincidence
that you got here
just after we did.
(hands the gun to Jenny)
Cover him.
(to Modi)
Put ‘em up, asshole.

Modi glares. Raises his hands.
Turns, and RUSHES Jenny.

She CRACKS him on the head
with the gun.
Modi REELS back.

MODI
OW! Fucking BITCH!

JENNY
Fuck you, ASSHOLE -- STAY BACK.

MODI
(feels head, sees blood)
I’m gonna fucking kill you --

CARRIE
Careful what you say, Mr. Boss-man.
I’ve got this all on tape.

Carrie pulls the dictaphone
out of her jacket pocket.

Places it on the coffee table
in front of Gay.

CARRIE
Okay.
Start from the beginning.
Why did you try to frame me
for your husband’s murder?

GAY
There was no frame --
you see, we --
(sighs)
It’s kind of complicated.

CARRIE
(aims gun against her head)
Maybe this will simplify things.

FEMALE VOICE (O.C.)
Well, isn’t this a fun little group.

Nikki stands in the doorway.
Blood on her face. Her dress.

GAY
Nichol -- Nikki.
What are you doing here?

NIKKI
My father’s dead,
my mother won’t speak to me,
and -- you were always so --
supportive --

She trails off.
Eyes wide.

Reaches in her bag.
Pulls out a snifter.

HONKS a hit.
Then another.

CARRIE
You’re Yavo’s son --

NIKKI
I’m his DAUGHTER.

MODI
Nice wig.

CARRIE
(to Modi)
Shut up and bleed.
(to Nikki)
Sorry, babe -- but you
got us at a bad time.
(stares, narrows her eyes)
Wait a minute.
Something’s not right.

NIKKI
No SHIT.
Someone KILLED my father.
He was SHOT in the HEAD.

Carrie eyes Nikki.
Slowly nods her head.

CARRIE
Well, whaddaya know.
YOU killed him.

NIKKI
That’s RIDICULOUS.
Why would I -- kill my own FATHER?

CARRIE
I don’t know.
The blood on your dress?
The fact that you’re
acting way too nonchalant?
Not to mention the fact
that the details about his death
weren’t released to the media?

Nikki pulls out a REVOLVER.
Walks toward Carrie.

NIKKI
Stupid bitch.
Now look what you’ve done.

CARRIE
Don’t do anything stupid.
I’ve got this all on tape --

Jenny GRABS Nikki from behind.
PINS her arms.

NIKKI
Hey!

Carrie dashes over, wrestles
the gun out of Nikki’s hand.

CARRIE
(to Jenny)
Nice work, doll.
Didn’t know you had it in you --

PUSH IN ON Jenny.
Eyes burning.

JENNY
Me neither --

EXT. SANTA MONICA - CUL DE SAC - NIGHT
Bernie’s undercover cruiser is parked
at the end of the street
behind a garbage dumpster.
The car is ROCKING.

INT. UNMARKED CAR - CONTINUOUS
Bernie and Aya are making love
in the back seat.

He SHRIEKS with pleasure, COMING.
Aya WAILS like a banshee.

Like howling dogs,
they climax together.

Silence.

BERNIE
Wish I had a cigarette.

AYA
I’ve got some. Hold on.

Aya pushes herself up.
Her blouse is open.
A splendid view.

She leans over the seat,
grabs her purse.
Pulls out a pack.

BERNIE
(takes one from her)
I shouldn’t.

AYA
(lights his, then hers)
Neither should I.
(exhales)
So what exactly did Carrie do?
Why was she suspended?

BERNIE
She cracked up her car,
smashed into a seven-eleven,
blood alcohol level
twice the legal limit --
and her DATE for the evening
was the CHIEF’S
sixteen-year-old DAUGHTER.

AYA
Wow. That explains alot.
(dreamy)
So -- what do we do now?

BERNIE
We get the fuck over
to Gay Flender’s joint.
If Lipshitz finds out --

AYA
No. I mean about us.

BERNIE
Us?

AYA
(hurt)
Yeah. US.

Bernie leans in.
Softly kisses her.

BERNIE
Tell you what.
Let’s crack this case,
then go away somewhere.
Maybe -- Cabo?

AYA
I’d love that.

BERNIE
(drinks her in)
You’re not such a tough nut
after all.

PUSH IN ON Aya.
Eyes dancing with mischief.

AYA
Tell anyone and I’ll
fucking kill you.

Shooting Blanks

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 38 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, private eye Carrie Love confronts trophy wife Gay Flender about being framed for her husband's murder, then entertainment attorney Modi and confronts his former assistant Jenny Lane about their fist fight at his apartment. Meanwhile, homicide dicks Bernie Keko and Aya Meir get 'up close and personal' while on a stakeout ...


EXT. FLENDER RESIDENCE - NIGHT
All is quiet on 24th street.
Jenny stands on the front porch.

RINGS the bell.
The door opens.

IN THE BACK YARD
Carrie walks up
to the kitchen window.
Looks in.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Dead bodies were piling up
like mattresses on a
Mexican pickup truck.
I was sucked into
a vortex of murder --
and all roads led to me.
We heard on the radio
on the way over
that Martune had died.
Every cop in the city
would be looking for me.
I had to think of something,
and I had to think fast.

She walks around
to the side of the house.

Sees a big picture window
looking into the living room.
She eases herself over.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Problem was, my nerves were frayed
like a two-bit hooker’s split ends --
and I was shooting blanks.

THROUGH THE WINDOW
we see a tearful Jenny
speaking to Gay.

Gay motions for Jenny to sit.
She does, on the couch,
near a roaring fire.

INT. FLENDER LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Gay sits next to Jenny, comforts her.

JENNY
I didn’t mean to hurt him,
and I didn’t mean to
break that sculpture.
I feel terrible
about the whole thing.
(beat)
He said -- horrible things to me,
and I -- lost my temper.

GAY
And he said you were fired?

JENNY
Yeah, but he’s done it before.
I’m not sure if it’s -- real.

MALE VOICE (O.C.)
Oh, it’s real.

MODI
walks in.

Bruised and battered.
Holding an ice pack.

MODI
You broke a priceless
MING DYNASTY URN.
It was a gift from my FATHER.

JENNY
You hit me FIRST.
And called me a CUNT.

GAY
Let’s all calm down now.
I’m sure we can figure out
a solution to this -- predicament.
(to Modi)
You realize the girl
can press charges, Modi.
That wasn’t very smart.

The doorbell RINGS.
Modi looks toward the foyer.

MODI
Now what?

Gay sips her drink.
Gets up.

GAY
Stay put, I’ll get it.

AT THE FRONT DOOR
Carrie stands with
her hands in her pockets.
Waiting.

The door OPENS.
Gay sees Carrie.

GAY
Detective Love.
What a lovely surprise.
Here for your pound of flesh?

Carrie pulls out her GLOCK.
CLICKS the safety.

CARRIE
More like a ton.

INT. UNMARKED CAR - NIGHT
Bernie and Aya sit in their cruiser.
Both a little spooked.

BERNIE
I’m sorry I -- hit you.

AYA
I’m sorry I hit YOU.

BERNIE
It’s just macho bluster.
'Broad' is an affectionate term.
I LIKE women --

AYA
I get defensive.
My father raised me alone,
with four brothers.

BERNIE
Wow.
That must have been rough.

AYA
Yeah.

Pause.

BERNIE
I guess we should roll.

AYA
Yeah.

They stare at each other.
He leans over.

Kisses her. Wow. Pulls back.
Aya’s eyes glitter with emotion.

BERNIE
Holy shit.

AYA
Tell me about it.

Tales From The Crib

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 37 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, things take a turn for the perverted when Christian porn director Ken Rice shoots a 'specialty film' featuring Rat Kodick, an adult male, dressed as a baby, who shakes more than his rattle ...


INT. SHITTY MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
The shitty motel room
from Nikki’s shoot.

We see a FOOD TROUGH,
like used for farm animals.

Next to it, a baby’s PLAYPEN.
Above it, a MOBILE
swings in the breeze.

In the playpen sits RAT,
dressed like a baby.

In a diaper.
Little doily cap.

Holding a rattle.
Beyond humiliated.

KEN
Okay.
We’re almost ready.
Just let me just
take a light reading --

RAT
This is stupid.
I feel ridiculous.

KEN
(looks at light meter)
Nonsense.
You look great.
You’d make any Poppa proud.

RAT
I’m not sure I wanna do this.

KEN
Silly boy.
Do you realize HOW MUCH
Tales From The Crib PAYS?

RAT
Tales From The Crib?

KEN
It’s a specialty book.
Retails for fifty bucks.
And they pay TOP DOLLAR
for quality material.
I’m billing them five-k
for fifty shots --
and I’m giving YOU
ten percent.

RAT
Ten percent?
So that would be --

KEN
Five hundred smackeroos, my boy.
Think of how many comic books
you could buy with THAT.

RAT
What’s the deal
with the lasagna?
Is that why you told
me not to eat any breakfast?

KEN
Well you see,
to some people,
the sight of a great,
big bear of a man
chowing down ravenously
is quite sensual.
There’s a whole market
for that, too.
So I had a brainstorm --
combine them, and voila --
infantilism AND binge eating.
We play our cards right,
and I can sell some shots
to Glutton For Punishment.

RAT
I AM starving --

KEN
That’s my boy.
Now stick that pacifier in,
and let’s get this
shindig STARTED.

Rat puts the pacifier in.
Smiles weakly.

KEN
And, ACTION --

Rat WAVES the rattle.

KEN
Okay.
You’re SAD.
Where’s Poppa?
I’m HUNGRY.

The hulking infant pouts.
Eyes tear up.

KEN
(takes a shot, CLICK, WHIRR)
My god.
He’s a natural.
Okay -- now you’ve got GAS.
You’re in PAIN.

Rat screws his face up.
Eyes BULGE.

Face turns red.
He FARTS.

KEN
(CLICK, WHIRR)
Holy smokes!
He can break wind ON CUE.
Nice! Okay -- now you’re HAPPY.
Poppa’s home!
And he’s going to
change your DIAPER
and powder your PEE-PEE!

He grins wildly.
SHAKES the rattle.
Grabs his diaper.

KEN
(CLICK, WHIRR)
Very good, VERY good -- okay.
Now baby’s all clean --
and it’s time for DINNER!
(beat)
Let ‘er rip!

Rat TOSSES the rattle.
SPITS OUT the pacifier.

Leans over the trough.
SHOVES his face in the food.

STUFFS HIS FACE with lasagna.
SNORTING like a pig.
Food goes FLYING.

KEN
EXCELLENT.
More, more!
You’re STARVING.

Ken puts a hand
on his crotch.
Slowly rubs it.

KEN
Yes, YES.
You haven’t eaten for DAYS.
You are INSATIABLE.
EAT, my son!
(low, to himself)
Poppa’s gonna take care
of his little boy.

FEMALE VOICE (O.C.)
What the FUCK
is going on here?

NIKKI
stands in the doorway.

Pistol aimed at Ken.
Vibrating with uncut venom.

NIKKI
You fucking pervert.

KEN
(deer in headlights)
N-Nikki -- what brings you here?

Rat stares.
Food all over his face.

NIKKI
You were rubbing one out
to a man dressed like a BABY?

KEN
Of course not.
This is a shoot for
the specialty market.
Adventures in Babyland.
Catchy, huh?
(beat)
Put the gun down, Nikki.
Don’t do something stupid.

NIKKI
Stupid? Stupid? STUPID?
How about threatening my FATHER
with your STUPID PORN FILM.
You have NO IDEA what
I’ve just been through --

A bright red rivulet of blood
starts running out of her nose.

RAT
Ha. Look at her nose.
Stupid cunt.

NIKKI
Shut up!

She wipes her hand on her nose.
Sees the blood. SHRIEKS.

NIKKI
I’m BLEEDING.

Rat LUNGES at Nikki.
But she’s too fast.

She PLUGS three shots --
BANG, BANG, BANG.

Rat hits the floor
with a THUD.

KEN
Please. Anything you want.
Just don’t kill me. Please.
(crosses himself)
Dear Lord Jesus --

NIKKI
Jesus?
Jesus doesn’t give
a shit about you.
Or me, either.
(points the gun)
You ruined my life,
and now I’m going to ruin yours.

KEN
Money.
How about money?
You want money?
Everybody wants money.
I’ve got ten grand
in my account.
It’s yours, all of it.

NIKKI
I could get my surgery --

KEN
YES. You CAN.
How about it?
We can go to the bank
tomorrow morning.

Nikki places the gun
against Ken’s head.

NIKKI
Gimmee your ATM card. Now.

KEN
Please don’t SHOOT!

Ken pulls out his wallet.
Hands it over.
A SIREN screams.

NIKKI
(CLICKS the safety)
Gimmee your PIN NUMBER.

KEN
J-john 12:11!

NIKKI
Praise the LORD --

She FIRES, BANG.
Ken’s head EXPLODES,
splattering the wall.

NIKKI
And pass the AMMUNITION.

Who You Calling A Broad?

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 36 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, homicide dicks Bernie Keko and Aya Meir meet with chief dick Larry Lipshitz about trying to find murder suspect Carrie Love. Meanwhile, Carrie drives like a demon on her way to meet the bitch that framed her ...


INT. POLICE HEADQUARTERS - LIPSHITZ’S OFFICE - NIGHT
Bernie and Aya sit across from Lipshitz,
chewing an unlit cigar.

Feet up on the desk.
Takes a sip of coffee.

BERNIE
We arrived at The Horse Head
minutes before she was there --

AYA
And now she’s disappeared --

BERNIE
She’s disguised herself,
cut her hair,
we have a witness who --

LIPSHITZ
Okay, enough -- I get it.
I didn’t call you in to chew you out,
I need to show you something.

He picks up a videocassette.
Hefts it like it’s valuable.

LIPSHITZ
Martune died an hour ago at Cedar’s.
His doctor suspects foul play --
(slides the tape into the VCR)
We had security pull the tape
that was running when he died.
(punches ‘play’)
Watch closely.

ON THE MONITOR
in fuzzy black and white.
We see CARRIE in her
Nurse Betty disguise.

She pushes open room 134.
Goes in.

BERNIE
watches intently.

BERNIE
That Martune’s room?

LIPSHITZ
Yeah.
Here, I’ll rewind it,
play it in slow-mo.

He punches the remote.
Hits another button.

ON THE MONITOR
we see Carrie again.
In the corridor.

Moving slowly toward the door.
Pushing it open.

BERNIE
Can you blow that up?

AYA
It’s her.

LIPSHITZ
I’ve got the boys in the lab
doing just that.

AYA
It’s HER.

BERNIE
Oh, yeah?
And just how do you know?

AYA
How many nurses pack heat?
(to Lipshitz)
Freeze it. There.

He does.

AYA
(points)
See the bulge in
the back of her uniform?
Something tells me
that’s not a stethoscope --

BERNIE
(squinting)
Goddammit, the broad’s right.
She’s carrying.

AYA
'Broad?'
Who you calling a broad?

BERNIE
I wasn’t talking to you,
I was talking to him.

LIPSHITZ
Enough, get outta here.
We’ve got an APB out on her,
and we need every man
and broad we can get.
But first, go visit Gay Flender,
find out if she’s had
any contact with Love.

BERNIE
(gets up)
You got it, chief.
(to Aya)
Let’s go, doll-face.

Aya SLAPS Bernie in the face.

AYA
I’m not a fucking BROAD.
Or a DOLL.
Got it?

Bernie stares.
SLAPS her on the cheek, HARD.

BERNIE
GOT it.

AYA
PIG.

She SLAPS him again.
Storms out.
SLAMS the door.

LIPSHITZ
Jeez.
Touchy.

BERNIE
You know broads --

INT. JENNY’S BEEMER - MOVING - NIGHT
Carrie cruises down Montana Avenue,
gripping the steering wheel for dear life.
Cracking around the edges.

CARRIE (V.O.)
I didn’t have a plan.
I was flying blind,
on a date with destiny.
A moth about to
fuck with the flame.
Hell-bent on revenge,
self-destruction --
or a combination of the two.

Pause.

JENNY
How do you do it?

CARRIE
Do what?

JENNY
Maintain your -- calm.
You seem so calm.

CARRIE
Survival instinct.
I’ve lived on the edge so long
I wouldn’t know what normal was
if it bit me in the shot glass.
(beat)
And I read alot of Raymond Chandler.

JENNY
Do you think there’s a --
a future for us,
once this is over?

CARRIE
Wrong question.

JENNY
What’s the right question?

PUSH IN ON Carrie.
Lighting a smoke. Thinking.

CARRIE
Is there a future -- for me.

Get Your Motor Running

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 35 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, crooked movie producer Hub Flower tries to convince widow Gay Flender to testify on his behalf at the grand jury investigation, with deadly results. Meanwhile, transgender porn star Nikki Yavo gets down and dirty at The Boom Boom Room ...


INT. FLENDER LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Hub Flower stands at the fireplace
looking at the Flender family portrait.
Glazed, privileged smiles all around.

HUB
It’s just a grand jury investigation, Gay.
No charges have been pressed.
We just need your testimony.

AT THE BAR
Gay fixes cocktails.
CLINKS ice into two glasses.

Opens an expensive-looking
bottle of brown. Pours.

GAY
Testimony? Like hell.
Harvey didn’t spill anything to me.
I know jack shit.

HUB
But, Gay -- we really need your help.
I don’t know what I’d do
if you didn’t testify on our behalf --
(at the picture)
You sure have a lovely family.
(beat)
Such a shame about Harvey.

Gay reaches under the bar,
pulls out a prescription bottle.

THE LABEL
reads ‘Percodan.
Two every four hours for pain.’

GAY
shakes out a few pills.
Opens them in her palm.

Dumps the powder into a glass.
STIRS it. Picks up the drinks.

Walks over to Hub.
Hands him the drug-laced cocktail.

GAY
I must be hearing things.
Did you just threaten harm
to my children?

HUB
(smiles, sips)
Of course not, Gay.
What would give you that idea?
I was just looking
at your family portrait.

GAY
(sips)
I guess it wouldn’t hurt -- to testify.

Hub grins.
His faces blossoms.
Eyes crinkling.

He takes a long sip of scotch.
Smacks his lips.

HUB
Now you’re talking smart, Gay.
I must say you -- had me
worried there for a moment.

He weaves a bit.
Shakes his head.
Vision blurry.

GAY
What’s the matter, Hub?
You look a little green.
Want to sit down?

HUB
(takes a step toward the couch)
I think -- that’s a --

Hub stops. Muscles deflate.
His body leans forward, and -- BANG,
he HITS the floor.
Glass SHATTERS on the tiles.

HUB
(mumbles)
Good idea.

And he’s out.

GAY
Serves you right,
Cajun piece of shit.
(feels his pulse)
What the fuck?
I’ve been CLUSTER-FUCKED.

I just wanted to KNOCK YOU OUT,
not KILL you. Asshole.

She goes to the bar.
Gets the pills.
Throws one down.

Chases it with the rest
of her cocktail. Thinks.
A deadly smile creeps over her face.

GAY
Coyote season --

She gets up.
Walks over to Hub.

Grabs him by the ankles.
Starts dragging him toward the kitchen.

GAY
(sings)
Oh, what a little moonlight will do --

EXT. LAGUNA BEACH - BOOM BOOM ROOM - AT THAT MOMENT
A nondescript building near the beach.
A handful of cars litter the parking lot.
Pink neon sign winks invitingly.

INT. BOOM BOOM ROOM - DANCE FLOOR - CONTINUOUS
Dark. Dead. Old-school lighting.
Faceless Euro-club music.

A remnant of a lost era.
Joint pretty dead, except for --

A trio of TWEAKER BOYS doing that
‘been up for three days’ shuffle.
Passing around an ampule of amyl nitrate.

AT THE BAR
sits Nikki. Waiting.
Sipping a cocktail.

A LARGE LEATHER FREAK (20’s) approaches.
Menacing in biker cap, boots,
mirrored shades, gun.

Until he opens his mouth.

LEATHER FREAK
Nikki. Lookin’ hot, mama.

NIKKI
Gunnar.
You’re looking -- leather, as usual.

GUNNAR
Let’s party.

INT. BOOM BOOM ROOM - BACK OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER
Dark and cozy.
The music THUMP-THUMPS from outside.

Gunnar sits on the couch.
CHOPS tiny lines on a large,
cock-shaped mirror.

Nikki sits next to him.
Watching intently.

GUNNAR
Now just do a little bit,
cause it’s uncut. Got it?

NIKKI
Yeah, sure. Where’d you get it?

GUNNAR
(hands her a rolled bill)
That’s for me to know,
and you to blow out --
(beat)
Har-har-har-har-har!

Nikki SNARFS up a line.
Rubs her nose.

NIKKI
Wow. It --

GUNNAR
Burns. Yeah.

He leans down, SNORTS one.
Shakes his head.

They look at each other.
Eyes bright, glassy.
Gunnar’s hand goes to his zipper.

GUNNAR
Speaking of uncut --

Nikki notices. Smiles.
Holds up a red-nailed finger.

NIKKI
One more.

GUNNAR
(gravely)
Okay. A little one.

But she’s greedy --
and HONKS up one line,
then another, and another.
She starts vibrating.

GUNNAR
Hey, now -- that’s enough --

NIKKI
(eyes blazing)
Holy fucking shit is that good shit.

She gets down on her knees.
Mouth frothing.
GRABS his crotch.

NIKKI
Get your motor running.

GUNNAR
(closes his eyes)
HEAD out on the highway.

Nikki unzips Gunnar with one hand.
With the other, she wets a finger.

Runs it through the coke.
Rubs it on her gums.

NIKKI
(throaty)
Looking for adventure --

She leans down, starts giving him
the best head of his life.

GUNNAR
And whatever COMES our way --

But Nikki’s reached critical mass.
Too much of the pharmaceutical
booger sugar courses through her veins.

Something SNAPS.
She BITES DOWN on Gunnar’s cock. HARD.

Like a WILD ANIMAL.
Gunnar SHRIEKS with pain.

GUNNAR
GAAAAA!

Nikki LEAPS UP.
Wipes her mouth.

GRABS the bag of coke.
Her bag. His piece.
RUNS to the door. STOPS.

NIKKI
That was fun, thanks, gotta go, BYE.

And TEARS ASS outta there --

EXT. BOOM BOOM ROOM - PARKING LOT - NIGHT
Nikki RUNS out the back entrance.
JUMPS in her Jag.

HITS the gas, and SCREECHES
away in a cloud of dust.

Playing Footsie

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 34 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, the shit hits the fan when an assassin tries to take out private eye Carrie Love and production assistant Jenny Lane outside Jenny's building. After making their escape, they hit the road, looking for revenge ...


EXT. JENNY’S APARTMENT BUILDING - CANAL - NIGHT
The moon glimmers on
the inky black waterway
like thick brush strokes.

Five WHITE GEESE float by,
single file.

Jenny and Carrie sit on an
old sofa under a tree. Watching.

JENNY
The guy in that
five-million dollar home
on the other side
bought them for his wife.
(beat)
Only the kids
pay any attention to them.

CARRIE
Did you feel his pulse?

JENNY
No, I freaked out.
I just split.
Then I called you.

CARRIE
He’s probably okay.
We could go to my place,
check the police scanner --
(realizes)
Shit.

Carrie closes her eyes.
Quietly shaking.

JENNY
(takes Carrie’s hand)
Stay here tonight.

CARRIE
I can’t drag you into this.

JENNY
I’m ALREADY into this.

CARRIE
(opens her eyes)
I guess you are.

JENNY
(sits up)
Come on, let’s go in.
I’m getting cold.

CARRIE
(pulls her back down)
Can you just --
hold me a sec?

They embrace.
Three soft GUNSHOTS RIP
through the sofa
just above Jenny’s head --
THWIP. THWIP. THWIP.

JENNY
(jerks up)
What was that?

CARRIE
(pulls her down)
Someone’s shooting a
B-B gun at us.
Stay down.
Don’t move --

Carrie GRABS the top of the couch.
Then Jenny.

Does a roll.
Pulls the sofa down over them.
They crouch low. Listen.

More shots THWIP, THWIP, THWIP
into the cushions.

JENNY
Who are they shooting at?
You or me?

CARRIE
I don’t know.
But we have to get
the fuck out of here.
My car is across the street.
Which car is yours?

JENNY
The gold BMW,
two spaces down.

CARRIE
You have a beemer --

JENNY
Don’t get excited.
It’s a ‘72.
That bucket of bolts
cost me more in repairs
than what I paid for it.

CARRIE
But it’s -- working, right?

EXT. CANAL - AT THAT MOMENT
Across the canal,
a FIGURE IN BLACK crouches down.

Rifle poking through the
wooden fence along the footpath.

THE COUCH
is lifted, tilted,
tipped up on end.

THE GUNMAN
squeezes off a series of SHOTS --
THWIP. THWIP. THWIP. THWIP.

EXT. JENNY’S APARTMENT BUILDING - GARAGE - CONTINUOUS
Jenny’s vintage gold BMW
PEELS RUBBER, and flies away.

INT. JENNY’S BEEMER - MOVING - NIGHT
Carrie drives like a demon.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Enough crying in my cocktail.
Fucking around playing footsie.
I still had my work.
Still had this case.
And it was time to
get my shit together
and do what I do best --
crack this sucker wide open.

She FIRES UP a smoke, and --

JENNY
Careful, there’s a --

PUNCHES the gas.

JENNY
Stop sign.
(grips the door)
Where are we going?

CARRIE
To Gay Flender’s joint.

JENNY
But didn’t you say
you suspect her of --

CARRIE
I did.
I do.

JENNY
And that she set you up?
Won’t she be --

CARRIE
Not if she’s distracted.

The girls exchange looks.
Carrie, excited.
Jenny, scared.

JENNY
Oh, no you’re not.
I’m not gonna --

CARRIE
Yes, you are.
All you have to do
is talk to her about
how Modi hit you,
and that you’re
thinking of suing,
but if you could
get your job back --

PUSH IN ON Jenny.
Eyes darting. Pensive.

JENNY
I could -- do that.

Cock Blocked

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 33 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, private eye Carrie Love ducks outside The Horse Head dive bar to take an emergency call from production assistant Jenny Lane, narrowly avoiding homicide dicks Bernie Keko and Aya Meir ...


EXT. THE HORSE HEAD - NIGHT
Carrie walks out the front door.
Lights a smoke.

CARRIE (V.O.)
I was cock-blocked by a skirt.
First time for everything.
It was just as well --
I mean, I was just
going through the motions.
Sex with a stripper is like
having desert for dinner.
Tastes great, less filling --
but you’re hungry again
a couple hours later.
And besides, I have a
damsel in distress to attend to.
(beat)
And right now,
she’s about all I have left.

BERNIE (O.C.)
It’s right down here.
A real dive, one of her
favorite places --

CARRIE
(hears him)
Shit.

She pulls down her hat.
Walks quickly in the
opposite direction.
DUCKS into a TATTOO PARLOR.

BERNIE AND AYA
appear in front of the bar.

AYA
Disgusting.
I can smell it from out here.

BERNIE
(fondly)
I know --

INT. TATTOO PARLOR - AT THAT MOMENT
Carrie walks up to the counter.

Behind it, a HUGE, TATTOOED BRUTE
looks her up and down.

Wipes his mouth.
Leers.

TATTOOED BRUTE
Hey, mamma -- how bout
a little ink?

Carrie pulls out her GUN.
Waves it in his face.

CARRIE
I’m lookin’ for
the back entrance, DOG.

TATTOOED BRUTE
You sure?
I gotta fresh needle --

She marches past him
toward a curtained-off
doorway.

INT. THE HORSE HEAD - AT THAT MOMENT
Bernie and Aya approach the bar.

Case the joint.
Take seats.

Scary bartender ambles over.
Clocks them immediately.

SCARY BARTENDER
What can I do for you,
officers?

BERNIE
(pulls out a photograph)
Have you seen this woman?

SCARY BARTENDER
(looks at it)
Can’t say I have.

AYA
You sure?

SCARY BARTENDER
I’d sure as hell
remember HER.

Bernie frowns.
Puts the picture down.
Checks his watch.

BERNIE
Hey.
It’s six.
I’m starving.

AYA
It’s that late already?

BERNIE
(to Scary)
You still have those --
horse burgers?

AYA
HORSE burgers?

SCARY BARTENDER
(wistful)
We usedta.
Gotta new owner.
Now just have beef.

BERNIE
I’ll take a bacon cheeseburger,
bloody-rare, with the works.
(to Aya)
You -- hungry?

AYA
Starving.
(to Scary)
Can I get a veggie burger?

SCARY BARTENDER
Sorry.
No veggie.

AYA
I’ll just have some fries, thanks.

Scary nods.
Goes off to fix the grub.

CURVY (O.C.)
Hey.
I saw this girl.
She was just in here.

CURVY stands next to Bernie.
Picks up the photo. Squints.

CURVY
Her hair is different,
got this dykey
Jodie Foster thing,
but that’s her.

BERNIE
Holy shit.
How long ago was she here?

CURVY
She just left.

AYA
Which way did she go?

CURVY
Hell if I know --

They LEAP off their stools.
RACE for the door.

SCARY
appears from the back
with the food.

SCARY BARTENDER
Hey.
What about your burgers?

Smooth As Silk

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 32 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, on the lam from the cops, private eye Carrie Love hides out in a Venice beach dive bar, where she hooks up with an off-duty stripper. Meanwhile, Christian producer Ken Rice pitches widow Gay Flender his 'gay incest' TV movie pitch, with disastrous results ...


INT. THE HORSE HEAD - NIGHT
Unbelievably dank and dark.
Broken ceiling fan.

Scary-looking BARTENDER watches a ball game
on a shitty little black-and-white.

Two DRUNK LOCALS sit nearby
nursing their beers.

The jukebox spills out
The scuzzy guitar shards of
Urge Overkill’s SISTER HAVANA.

An off-duty CURVY STRIPPER
drinks and twists, oblivious.
Celebrating some private party.

Carrie slides onto a bar stool.
Eyes Curvy’s moves.

CARRIE
(to herself)
I’m in a Roger Corman movie --

The BARTENDER leans over.
Glares. Barely whispers.

SCARY BARTENDER
What’ll it be?

CARRIE
Heinekin, double shot of bourbon.
Kessler’s, if you got it --

SCARY BARTENDER
(nods, grim)
Kessler’s. Smooth as silk.

He turns to get her order.

HISPANIC MALE VOICE (O.C.)
How ya doin,’ mommy?
Haven’t seen you in here before --

Carrie looks left.
Then down, at --

A GUY IN A WHEELCHAIR
near her stool.
The wannabe lothario grins, wolfish.

Takes a slurp of beer.
Looks up. Beady eyes leering.

CARRIE
Sorry, Mack.
I don’t do the ‘Coming Home’ thing.
But slide me your digits,
and I’ll give ‘em to Jane Fonda.

Scary returns with the drinks.
Sees Wheelie-Boy.

SCARY BARTENDER
Leave the babe alone, Rodriguez, okay?

Carrie SLAPS down a ten-spot.
Slides off her stool.

CARRIE
Watch my change, will ya?
(to Rodriguez)
What do you call someone
who’s HIV-positive in a wheelchair?
Roll-AIDS.

She turns, walks toward Curvy.
Scary ROARS with laughter.

Downs her shot.
Sips her beer.
Moves to the music.

Curvy senses Carrie’s presence.
Turns. Stares.

Likes what she sees.
Starts dancing for her.

CARRIE
Where’s a pole when you need one?

CURVY
Can I get a hit offa that?

Carrie hands her the beer.
Curvy takes a long, luxurious swallow.
Holds the bottle against her forehead.

CURVY
Thanks. I needed that.

CARRIE
Makes two of us.

Curvy smiles.
The deal is closed.
Carrie’s cell phone RINGS.

CARRIE
Hold that thought.
(answers it, listens)
Jenny.

SPLIT SCREEN WITH:

INT./EXT. JENNY’S APARTMENT - BALCONY - CONTINUOUS
Jenny leans on the railing with a stiff cocktail.
Looks at the canal.

She turns toward us.
We see she has a black eye.

JENNY
(into the phone)
How are you? You -- okay?

CARRIE
Yeah. Hold on a sec.
(covers the phone, to Curvy)
Be back in a sec.
Business call.
Why don’t you go warm up
a bar stool for me?

Curvy smiles.
Trots off to the bar.
Carrie sits at a table.

CARRIE
I’m back.

JENNY
(jittery)
That’s just -- just great.

CARRIE
What’s going on?
You sound -- strange.

JENNY
Modi and I got into a big fight
and he fired me,
I went to his place after work
to try and get my job back,
we argued some more, he hit me,
and I pushed him, and he, he --
(beat)
Fell.
He hit his head.
He’s, unconscious.

CARRIE
No way.

JENNY
C-can you come over?

CARRIE
(looks off camera at Curvy)
Shit.
(sighs)
Be right there.
(clicks the phone shut)
Damn.
Stripper-interruptus.

INT. YAVO/FLENDER FILMS - CONFERENCE ROOM - AT THAT MOMENT
Gay sits at the head of the giant table.
POSTERS of her husband’s movies dot the walls.

Disaster flicks. Cheesy biopics.
Heartwarming holiday stories.
Chick flicks, lite.

Across from her sits
Ken Rice and David Nance.
Smiles all around.

Gay sips from a bottle of water.
Nods, listening.

KEN
-- a spiritual awakening,
so he goes to confession
and renounces his sins.
(beat)
And then, over the closing credits,
we see him go up the front steps
of his house -- and ring the bell.
(dramatic flourish)
And we fade to black.

GAY
I like it.
I like it ALOT.

DAVID
You do?
I mean -- great, that’s great.

KEN
(to David)
What did I tell you?
I knew she’d get it.

GAY
It’s bold. Daring. Edgy.
(off their smiles)
But we gotta change
the young guy to a girl.
And she can’t be his daughter.

KEN
Excuse me?

DAVID
(Soto voce)
I told you --

GAY
The gay incest thing?
No network is gonna buy it, Ken.
Hel-lo-o. Get a grip on yourself.
We make safe, bland pabulum for basic cable.
What do you think this is, HBO?

DAVID
Certainly not.

KEN
This is my passion project.
Dedicated to the memory of my POPPA.
(strangely)
He was VERY SPECIAL to me --
(POUNDS the table)
And I’m NOT changing a THING.

GAY
(stands)
Then I suggest you go
peddle your passion somewhere
where they give a fuck.

A soft KNOCK-KNOCK on the door.

GAY
Who the fuck IS IT?

Fleming sticks his head in. Tentative.

FLEMING
Hub Flower is on three.
Says it’s urgent.

GAY
Poor baby’s probably having a hard time
a crack whore at the Four Seasons --

A Hell Of A Woman

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 30 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, homicide dicks Bernie Keko and Aya Meir search the Venice beach hotels, looking for private eye Carrie Love, now wanted for murder. Meanwhile, Carrie gets lost in her favorite dive bar on the boardwalk ...


INT./EXT. UNMARKED CAR - MOVING - DAY
The car cruises Speedway, a narrow street
just behind the Venice Boardwalk.
It passes BUMS, young HIPSTERS. SURFERS.

Bernie’s behind the wheel.
Aya sips a designer coffee.

BERNIE
-- and the bartender
looks at the guy and says,
‘Hey. I was talking to the duck.’

Bernie ROARS with laughter.
Aya does a slow burn.

BERNIE
C’mon, that’s funny.

AYA
You fucking sneak.
I was driving.

BERNIE
Payback for stopping at Star-FUCKS.
How can you drink that shit?
It looks like a milk shake,
not a COFFEE.

Bernie’s cell phone RINGS.
He pulls it out. Listens.

BERNIE
Keko here --
(beat)
Holy shit.

AYA
What?

BERNIE
(to Aya)
Martune’s dead --
(listens)
We’ll be right there, chief --
(hangs up, to Aya)
Step on it, baby.
We’ve got another body.

AYA
(does a ‘take’)
You called me -- baby.

PUSH IN ON Bernie’s face.
In pain. Confused.

BERNIE
Don’t get used to it.

INT. VENICE MOTOR COURT HOTEL - ELEVATOR - AT THAT MOMENT
Carrie rides down.
Pulls out her Glock.
Checks the chamber.

EXT. VENICE MOTOR COURT HOTEL - AT THAT MOMENT
Bernie and Aya’s car pulls
into the front entrance. Parks.

IN THE LOBBY
the elevator doors open.

Carrie walks out.
Then hears --

BERNIE (O.C.)
-- homicide detective Keko,
and this is detective Meir.
We’d like to see the register.

Carrie freezes in her tracks --

CARRIE
Shit.

Turns, and walks
toward the garage exit.
Goes through a door.

AT THE FRONT DESK
Bernie and Aya
look through the book.

BERNIE
Than Dong Ng,
Werner and Hilda Schmidt,
Lucia Greco --
fucking United Nations.

The officious PIMPLY YOUNG CLERK (22)
nods stiffly.

PIMPLY YOUNG CLERK
Well, Venice Beach IS
a major vacation destination.

AYA
Do you have a photocopier?

PIMPLY YOUNG CLERK
Sorry.
There’s a Kinko’s
about a mile away, on Lincoln.

BERNIE
Fuck that --
(to Aya)
You stay here, write down
all the names going back
the last twenty-four hours.
I’m gonna go scope out
the parking garage.

AYA
Gee, thanks, officer.
You go prowl why I stay here
and do the secretarial work?
I think NOT.
(shoves the book at him)
YOU write down the names
while I go check out the garage --
(off his stare)
If she happens to be down there,
she WON’T recognize ME, GET it?

The clerk watches.
Amused.

BERNIE
That’s -- a good idea.
(to the clerk)
What the fuck
are you looking at?

EXT. THE HORSE HEAD - AT THAT MOMENT
Classic dive bar.
A couple of OLD DRUNKS
smoke butts in front.

Shivering in the brisk air
of the beach at dusk.

An OLD HOMELESS HIPPIE (60)
in a top hat shuffles by.

Holding up his pants
at the crotch.
Weaves slightly.

Carrie walks toward the bar.
Stops. Peers inside.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Some shamus I turned out to be.
On the lam, holed up like grifter
out of a Jim Thompson fever dream.
A Hell of a Woman, my ass.
I wasn’t on the case,
the case was on me.
I wasn’t following leads,
they were following me. Suspects?
I was the fucking suspect.
And now I was on a tear, a bender,
a non-stop trip to hell.
Cause when the going gets tough,
the tough --
(beat)
Go to happy hour.

Paradise City

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 29 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, private eye Carrie Love confronts her client Gay Flender about framing her for her husband's murder ... then goes to the hospital to interrogate the asshole who burned her house down ...


EXT. VENICE BEACH SHORELINE - AFTERNOON
Carrie sits on the rocks watching the waves.
The surfers doing their thing.

She drinks from a new bottle. Winces.
Pulls out her cell phone. Dials. Listens --

CARRIE
Gay?
(listens)
Yeah, it’s me.
Your pigeon. Your frame.
Tell me why you did it.
I want some answers, NOW.

SPLIT SCREEN WITH:

INT. YAVO/FLENDER FILMS - OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
Gay paces the floor.
Smoking a cigarette.
A Cheshire cat.

GAY
Answers? To what?
I hired YOU to get ME some answers --

CARRIE
Don’t play dumb with me,
you vacant, airbrushed strumpet.
I’ve been framed for your husband’s murder,
and I’ve got a funny feeling
you had something to do with it.

The door opens.
Modi slides in.
Sees Gay’s on the phone.

Gay raises a finger, ‘shushes’ him.
Presses ‘speakerphone.’
Softly places the receiver in its cradle.

GAY
You mean to tell me you think
I hired you to find my husband’s killer,
and then I FRAMED you?
That doesn’t make sense.

CARRIE
Yeah. Kinda like one of your late husband’s
fucking piece-of-shit movies.
A bad rip-off of THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE.
Oh, wait -- that’s quality source material.
This reeks of Jackie Collins.
Maybe Danielle Steele.

A loud BURP.
Modi shoots Gay a look.
Gay shakes her head.

GAY
Kinda early in the morning
for cocktails, detective.
And I don’t like your attitude.
Consider yourself fired.
Go find yourself a
gutter to roll around in.

CARRIE
Not so fast, bitch.
We’re going to ‘take a meeting.’

GAY
I’m sorry, but my schedule’s pretty full.
Booked solid the rest of the month.

CARRIE
Not at your office, dummy.
You think I’m gonna
walk into a trap?
Somewhere neutral.
I’ll let you know where.
And when. And watch your back.
One way or another,
I’m gonna getcha-getcha-getcha.

She hangs up. CLICK.
Drains the bottle.
Wipes her mouth.

FLINGS it into the sea.
Slowly, carefully stands up.

CARRIE (V.O.)
But first, let’s pay a
little visit to the hospital.
Visiting hours are almost over,
and I need to go pay my disrespects.

INT. SANTA MONICA HOSPITAL - CORRIDOR - AT THAT MOMENT
A bustling hallway right out of ER.
DOCTORS, NURSES, TECHS weave in and out
like ants marching up the hill.

A DOOR opens to a room marked NURSE’S LOUNGE.
A tall, thin NURSE strides
briskly into the throng.

Starched white hat atop chunky blonde locks.
She stops. Turns. Looks.

It’s CARRIE.
Looks at the door numbers.
Searching. Aha.

A DOOR
reads ‘134.’

A female hand pushes it open,
and we go into --

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Dark with the lights out.
Drapes pulled.

Quiet, except for the machines chirping.
Lights blinking.

A hulking FIGURE lies on the bed.
Tubes and wires inserted.

Large wooden FRAME is affixed to its head
with a series of bolts, like scaffolding.
Like it’s under construction.

It’s MARTUNE.
Being rebuilt.
Like beachfront property.

Carrie tip-toes up to the bed.
Turns on the light.

Martune doesn’t react.
Sleeping the dreams of morphine bliss.

CARRIE
Wakey, wakey, RISE AND SHINE.
It’s time for your SPONGE BATH.

Martune’s eyelids flicker.

CARRIE
And then maybe take a little BLOOD.

His eyes slowly open.
Try to focus.

CARRIE
Take your RECTAL TEMPERATURE.
With a FUCKING KNIFE.

Martune tries to speak,
but he’s drugged to the gills.

His voice comes out sideways,
like a ventriloquist.

MARTUNE
Cahrrie -- Lohv --

CARRIE
That’s right, buster -- it’s me.
Here to wake you from the dead.
Cause we’re gonna have a little party.
Play ourselves a little game --
‘confession junction.’

She pulls a small dictating recorder
from her pocket.

CARRIE
(into it)
Testing, testing -- one, two, three.
Is this thing on?
Golly gee, officer,
I was only going ninety.

Carrie pulls out her GLOCK.
Aims it Martune’s head.

CARRIE
Don’t worry.
This is just for insurance.
I’d rather just turn off your life support.
More dramatic. And less messy.

MARTUNE
Yoo -- funkin’ -- bih.

She places the dictaphone
on the pillow beside his head.

CARRIE
All I want is your confession,
and then I’ll leave you alone.
(beat)
Maybe.

With great effort, gaining strength,
Martune grimaces.

MARTUNE
You stole -- ma girfren.’

CARRIE
Well, that’s the problem
with a menage et trois, big guy.
It’s rarely an even three-way.
Two of them really get into each other,
and leave out the third.
Nine out of ten times,
it’s the two women, leaving Mr.
‘I Just Wanna Watch’ out in the cold.
And in your case, poor little baby
was sick of your smug shit
and jumped on the first life preserver
she could find.
(beat)
Me.

Carrie pulls out his IV tube.
Martune winces in pain.

Reaches for the call box
on the bedside table.

MARTUNE
I’m gonna -- call -- security.

Carrie GRABS the box.
Places it out of his reach.

CARRIE
Enough. Pipe down. Sit still.

She raises the gun.
Places it against Martune’s temple.

CARRIE
You’re gonna spill it. NOW.
(CLICKS on the recorder)
Talk to me, Jesus.
Tell me about the fire.

MARTUNE
Shit, no -- don’t shoot, don’t shoot.

CARRIE
All of a sudden you can talk?

MARTUNE
(looks at the missing IV tube)
Morphine -- I need -- morphine.

CARRIE
Give me your statement. NOW.
Then you can take a trip to paradise city.
Where the grass is green
and the girls are pretty.

Carrie CLICKS the hammer.

MARTUNE
Okay, okay. DON’T SHOOT.
(exhales)
I started it, okay?
I burned down your house
because you stole my girlfriend.
I LOVED that girl, and you --
took her AWAY from me.

CARRIE
Aw, isn’t that touching.

She PISTOL-WHIPS him, CRACK.

CARRIE
So you torch my DREAM HOME.
(seething)
Last question, asshole.
You killed Slobotnik, didn’t you?

Martune blink-blinks. Frightened.

CARRIE (CONT'D)
(raises the gun)
You want more of this? ANSWER ME.

MARTUNE
Okay, alright. I shot -- Kip.

CARRIE
Why?

MARTUNE
He -- made a pass at me.
Said he was -- in love with me.
I -- snapped.

Carrie smiles.
SNAPS off the recorder. Stands.

CARRIE
Well, I guess that wraps it up.

MARTUNE
Please, morphine -- I’m in pain.

Carrie looks around.
Sees a small washcloth on the bed post.

She balls it up.
SHOVES it in his mouth.

Leans over.
Re-inserts the IV tube into Martune’s arm.

His eyes cry out with immediate relief.

CARRIE
See? I’m not a totally bad person.
(beat)
I may not be a health care professional,
but I play one on TV.

One of the monitors starts BEEP-BEEP-BEEPING.
Oscilloscope patterns dance madly on the screen.

CARRIE
Shit.

She presses the call button.
Then hurries out of the room.

IN THE CORRIDOR
Carrie looks at her clipboard.
Starts moving.

Blends into the crowd.
A MALE VOICE rises above the din on the PA.

URGENT MALE VOICE (O.C.)
CODE BLUE, CODE BLUE, room 134,
cardiac arrest!
Move it, move it, STAT.

PUSH IN ON a VIDEO CAMERA on the wall.
Red light BLINKING.

Sins Of The Flesh

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 28 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, torture porn director Phillie Pfugg and his girl toy Chinette take his surgically enhanced organ for a ride at a sleazy motel on the wrong end of Sunset. Meanwhile, private eye Carrie Love visits the ruins of what once was her dream home ...


EXT./INT. PHILLIE’S HUMMER - NIGHT
Phillie drives. Peers over at Chinette,
staring out the side window. Pensive.
Dabs her eyes with a tissue.

CHINETTE
Big surprise?
I’m not sure I’m in the mood
for a -- big surprise.

PHILLIE
Nonsense.
Nothing is too good
for my little whippoorwill.
(sees something)
We just have to make one quick stop.

THE MOTEL STARLET
comes into view.

A real dive.
Irony be thy name.

THE HUMMER
pulls into the parking lot. Stops.

PHILLIE
turns to Chinette.

PHILLIE
Now wait right here.
I’ll be back in two shakes
of a lamb’s tail --

CHINETTE
Okay.

He kisses her. Gets out.
POPS open the rear door.

Grabs a long, rolled carpet
wrapped with duct tape. Bloodstained.

Hefts it onto his shoulder.
Looks up at the sign.

PHILLIE
The Motel Starlet.
You can’t make this shit up.

Phillie looks around.
Coast is clear.

He carries the body around
the back of the building.
TOSSES it in a dumpster.

PHILLIE
And that’s a wrap --

EXT. VACANT LOT - RUINS - MOMENTS LATER
Carrie stands in the driveway behind
what once was her home.

We can’t see her eyes
behind the shades.

But we know they’re bleeding,
black with pain.

She gingerly walks
through the rubble.

CARRIE (V.O.)
I don’t know what compelled me
to visit my own, private ground zero.
I was inexplicably drawn
to what would rip me apart.
Like a gambler to the table,
a junkie to the needle --
(beat)
This was my first real home on my own.
After I split with Bernie,
I combed the beach until I
found that hundred-year-old bungalow
on one of the prettiest walkway streets.
Then I painstakingly decorated it
from top to bottom.
Filled it with what gave me pleasure.
I discovered a creativity
I didn’t know I had.
It was my palace,
a den of color, joy --

Carrie bends over.
Picks up a burned, ruined Barbie.

CARRIE (V.O.)
People asked me how
the Barbie thing got started.
(she tosses it, keeps walking)
When I first moved here from New York,
I knew exactly two people in town.
And they both lived
forty-five minutes away.
I soon learned that everyone
lived forty-five minutes away.
(beat)
So I was in the supermarket my
first night here buying a few necessities,
feeling a little alone,
and they had these Barbies on sale
there at the register.
What you call an ‘impulse purchase.’
I thought, ten bucks each,
what the fuck, so I got two.
The checkout clerk said,
‘that’s sweet, you have kids?’
When I shook my head no,
she looked at me like
I was some kind of pervert --
and I knew I had found my calling.
That night I set them up in my kitchen
and on my bar, and never looked back.
(beat)
Of course it wasn’t until a year later
when my porn star girlfriend tied one up,
stuck a ball gag in her mouth,
and named her ‘Bondage Barbie.’
(beat)
That was when things REALLY
started getting interesting --

EXT. ADULT MOTEL - AT THAT MOMENT
A sleazy, greasy stuccoed motor court.
Sign reads THE MATADOR. ADULT MOTEL.

Phillie’s Hummer parked by the ice machine.
A METH COUPLE walk into the grimy office.

INT. ADULT MOTEL ROOM - AT THAT MOMENT
On a tiny boom box, the glam-trash of
My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult’s
DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS over --

Phillie, head-to-toe in black vinyl.
Zorro mask. A long, red satin cape.
He pours a glass of pink champagne for --

Chinette, decked out in some outre
white silk bodybuilding outfit.

Lacy bridal veil.
Teetering on six-inch platforms.

As close to girlish
as this bruiser can get.

She raises her glass to his.
They CLINK.

CHINETTE
(takes a sip)
This is like our honeymoon.

PHILLIE
(sips his)
Nothing is too good
for my little flower.

He THROWS his glass
into the fake fireplace -- CRASH.

PHILLIE
Are you ready to be ravaged
by The Dark Lord?
(grabs her)
To be taken to new heights
of sexual pleasure?
Surrender yourself to
unspeakable sins of the flesh?

CHINETTE
Phillie -- I mean -- Dark Lord --
(mock-scared)
What are you going to -- do to me?

He goes to the ‘magic fingers.’
Puts in some change.

The bed starts VIBRATING.
He goes to her.
Takes her hand.

PHILLIE
Madame, come with me to
the garden of unearthly delights.

Phillie lays her down.
Chinette smiles, coquettish.

CHINETTE
Promise me you’ll be -- rough?

FROM BEHIND
Phillie removes his boxers.
Raises the cape, like wings.

CHINETTE
(whispers)
It looks kind of -- lumpy.

PHILLIE
Even with the condom on?

CHINETTE
(reaches up, gently touches it)
Does that feel okay?

He lowers the cape --

PHILLIE
God, yes.

Lays down on top of her --

PHILLIE
Mommy --

And starts thrusting.
Slowly. Carefully.

CHINETTE
(moaning)
Who’s your -- Mommy now?

PHILLIE
Ow!

He stops. Rolls off her.
Dejected. Tears in his eyes.

PHILLIE
It HURTS.

Chinette takes him in her arms.
Sooths, comforts him.

CHINETTE
There, there -- it’ll be okay.

PHILLIE
No, it WON’T.
That fucking doctor
FUCKED IT UP.

CHINETTE
Well, then go back
and make him fix it.

PHILLIE
But that takes money --
and I need what we have
to fix the studio,
so I can finish cutting Head Shot.

CHINETTE
Then you’ll just have find the money.

PUSH IN ON Phillie’s face.
A light bulb pops.

PHILLIE
Wait a minute.
I just got an idea --

Grand Theft Auto

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 27 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, homicide dicks Bernie Keko and Aya Meir get called on the carpet by chief Larry Lipshitz for not being able to trace murder suspect Carrie Love's phone call. Meanwhile, Carrie steals new wheels and goes on the lam ...


INT./EXT. CARRIE'S STOLEN CAR - MOVING - DAY
Carrie drives a vintage Dodge Dart Swinger.
Nondescript in shades and baseball cap
that advertises some cheap booze.

She takes a long pull
from a pint bottle.

CARRIE (V.O.)
It was the first time I
played Grand Theft Auto.
The trick is to swipe an old beater
that no one will report stolen.
Thank god I’ve got enough scratch
to hide out for a while.
At least until I can
clean up this mess.
(beat)
I could drain my savings account,
go down to Mexico like a grifter
in some Ross MacDonald story.
Get a shitty motel room by the beach,
write that tragic, drunken confessional
that’s been oozing outta my pores.

She thinks.
Takes a slug.

Picks up her cell.
Dials. Listens --

CARRIE
Jenny?

SPLIT SCREEN WITH:

INT. YAVO/FLENDER FILMS - RECEPTION - AT THAT MOMENT
Jenny sits at her workstation.
Sips coffee.

Shuffles the stacks of paperwork.
Murmurs into her headset.

JENNY
Carrie, hi.
How are you?

CARRIE
I’ve been better.


JENNY
W-what’s wrong?

CARRIE
The cops want me.
I was framed for Flender’s murder.
They matched the bullets to my gun,
which someone STOLE.
I’m in deep shit.

JENNY
(small voice)
You’re -- kidding.

ANGRY MALE VOICE (O.C.)
JENNY. Where’s the Crabb deal?
I can’t find the FUCKING CRABB DEAL!

JENNY
Modi, hold on I’m on the phone --
(to Carrie)
Just sit tight.
When I get home I’ll fix us some dinner,
and we can plan our strategy.

CARRIE
We? OUR strategy?

JENNY
Well, yeah -- I just thought -- since --

CARRIE
Listen, baby -- I’d love your help,
but do you realize how dangerous this is?
I can’t get you mixed up in this,
this is serious shit, and I --

Carrie gasps.
Sucks in air.

JENNY
Shhhh, it’s okay, it’s okay.
are you now?

MODI (O.C.)
JENNY!

CARRIE
It’s best if you don’t know.
I’ll call you later when I get settled.
Just don’t tell anyone anything,
you don’t know anything --

JENNY
Okay, I understand, I gotta go, I’m --
(whispers)
Getting yelled at.

She punches a button.
Heart beating a mile a minute.

MODI
appears. Fists clenched.
Face beet red.

MODI
(hisses)
Get me that fucking file, stupid BITCH.

PUSH IN ON Jenny.
Frightened to death.

JENNY
S-sure thing, r-right away --

INT. POLICE HEADQUARTERS - LIPSHITZ’S OFFICE - AT THAT MOMENT
Larry leans forward in his chair.
Stares at Bernie and Aya.

Standing before him.
In trouble. Baleful.

LIPSHITZ
It was a simple task.
Just KEEP HER ON THE FUCKING PHONE --
long enough to GET A TRACE.

BERNIE
She was a cop, Larry.
She knows the drill.
Despite being inebriated.
(beat)
She was a good cop once, you know --

AYA
Captain, may I have a word?

LIPSHITZ
You can have ten, twenty, a hundred.
But not here, not now.
We’ve got work to do,
and I don’t have time for your
touchy-feely psych-101 mumbo-jumbo.

AYA
But sir --

LIPSHITZ
Zip it, or you’ll be back on the kibutz
so fast your dreidel will spin like a top.
(beat)
Wait a minute --
(inhales)
You two are going to prowl the beach joints.
her thing, right, Bernie?

BERNIE
Yeah.
She used to say she got a nosebleed
if she went east of Lincoln.
There’s a few hotels and
flea-bag joints we can check out.
Not to mention the gin joints
on the boardwalk.

LIPSHITZ
Then hop to it.
And find her, fast, because this is
quickly becoming a major embarrassment
to the department.

DISSOLVE TO:

A SMALL TELEVISION SET
in a tiny motel room.
Seen from the next room.

COCKY, SMILING ANCHOR (V.O.)
-- linking the murder weapon
a Ms. Carrie Love, 36,
former Santa Monica homicide detective,
now a private investigator --

CARRIE’S FACE
fills the screen.

Damn, she looks angry.
But still kinda cute.

COCKY, SMILING ANCHOR (V.O.)
If you see this woman,
call your local precinct immediately.
And stay away.
This is one dangerous lady.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Lady, my ass.

INT. SHITTY MOTEL ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Carrie stands in front of the bathroom mirror.

A towel around her shoulders.
Her hair is now bleached-blonde white.

CARRIE
Brigitte Nielson, eat your heart out.

She grabs a pair of hair clippers.
Holds it to her head.

CARRIE
Time to get all Britney Spears
on their asses.

And starts CHOPPING OFF
her long, beautiful hair.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Maybe I sleep around.
But that doesn’t make me a bad person.
Sue me. I was drawn that way.
I didn’t fucking KILL anyone.
Okay, maybe I like a cocktail now and then,
but I’m not a fucking MURDERER.
And okay, so I like to
bend the rules a little.
But that’s no reason to FRAME me.
(beat)
So fuck all of you.
You don’t want me around, FINE.
I’ll buy myself a one-way ticket to Splitsville.
Do the disappearing tango on your asses.
I’ll go to Frisco, do a Dashiel Hammett.
Find a Continental Opp-ortunity.

She’s done.
Hair in blocky, spiky chunks.

She slides on shades.
Sneeers at her reflection.

CARRIE (V.O.)
But first, it’s time for the eulogy --

A Perfectly Good Cocktail

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 26 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, transgendered party girl porn star Nikki Yavo comes home to get her things after her father throws her out of the house, but then is confronted with an unspeakable evil ... her mother.


EXT. LAGUNA BEACH - COAST - NIGHT
A row of LUX MANSIONS
at the top of the cliffs
overlooking the ocean.
The exclusive, expensive seats.

EXT./INT. - NIKKI’S JAGUAR - MOVING - AT THAT MOMENT
Nikki’s wheels ROAR
down the coastal drive.

NIKKI
(on her cell)
Just put it on my tab.
(beat)
You think you’re the
only dealer in Laguna?
(beat)
Think of all the business
I’ve brought you --
(beat)
Trade? I wouldn’t stoop to --
(beat)
That much?
(beat)
The Boom-Boom Room.
At midnight.

She hangs up with disgust.

NIKKI
The things a gal
has to do for
recreational drugs --

INT. YAVO ESTATE - KITCHEN - AT THAT MOMENT
A huge, gleaming expanse of
restaurant-quality culinary perfection.
All chrome, tile and glass.

GLORIA YAVO (40’s)
is perched on a stool.
Gimlet-eyed.

Once a beauty,
now watered down.
Unlike her cocktail.

Clothing, hair, makeup, perfect.
If only someone was home.

She CLACK-CLACKS
on a laptop computer.
Puffs on a cigarette.

GLORIA
It’s mine, Goddammit.

ON THE SCREEN
we see an Ebay auction.
Letters read YOU’VE BEEN OUTBID.

GLORIA
furiously PUNCHES in a number.

GLORIA
Five hundred DOLLARS.
You happy now?

NIKKI
walks in.

NIKKI
Hello, Mother.

GLORIA
(looks up)
Nicholas.
WHY are you
DRESSED like that?
You look RIDICULOUS.

NIKKI
(STOMPS her foot)
I told you,
my name is NIKKI.
And I’m beautiful.

GLORIA
(eyes on the monitor)
Not in my house,
you aren’t.

NIKKI
I’m going upstairs
and get some of my things.
I’m moving out.

GLORIA
Bullshit.
Your father just called.
You’ve been kicked out.
I’m not supposed
to let you in.

Nikki goes to the counter,
rummages through Gloria’s purse.

NIKKI
Don’t worry,
I’m not going to stay.

GLORIA
You better hurry.
He’s on his way home --
and if he finds you here,
dressed like that --

NIKKI
(finds cash, counts it)
What?
He’ll HIT me?

GLORIA
(looks up)
What THE FUCK
do you think
you’re doing?
Put THAT BACK.

NIKKI
Shut the fuck up,
you old hag.
Have another drink.
On me.
(squints)
That’s quite a shiner.
I’d put a little more
concealer on that.
Wouldn’t want the
neighbors to find out.

GLORIA
Wait a minute,
that’s MY dress.
it off, RIGHT NOW --
you, you -- FREAK.

Nikki goes to the doorway
into the living room.

NIKKI
Like it would
still fit you.

Gloria HURLS her
glass at Nikki.
It hits the wall -- CRASH.

GLORIA
Fucking FAGGOT!

NIKKI
(smiles)
Now look what you did.
That was a perfectly
good cocktail.

Gloria LEAPS off her stool.
RACES over to Nikki. S

tarts BEATING her
with her fists.
Nikki GRABS her wrists.

NIKKI
Back off.
Before I do
something I regret.

GLORIA
I HAVE no son.
You are DEAD to me.

Nikki PUSHES her.
Gloria LURCHES back.

TRIPS on the rug.
HITS the floor
with a CRACK.

GLORIA
You can’t DO that!
I’m YOUR MOTHER.

Nikki goes to the staircase.
Stops. Turns.

NIKKI
Watch me.

Tricks Are For Chicks

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 25 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, the shit hits the fan when homicide dick Bernie Keko calls his ex-wife/ex-partner, private eye Carrie Love and demands she turn herself in for the murders of Harvey Flender and Roland Yavo, who at the moment is drowning her sorrows in a dive bar ...


INT. THE OFFICE - MORNING
Paul Anka’s shaken-not-stirred cover of
BLACKHOLE SUN coos on the jukebox.
Behind the bar, Axel cleans a glass.

Carrie sits on a stool
with a beer and a shot.

Looks like death warmed over.
Brittle. Lost. Haunted.

AXEL
So I guess you’re a regular now.

CARRIE
More like an irregular.

AXEL
So you have the day off
from the detective thing?

CARRIE
Hey. Like the sign says,
‘get the day started right.’

AXEL
I might look like
an asshole shit-kicker,
but I’m a good listener.
At least my girlfriend says so --
(beat)
Wanna tell me about it?

Carrie drinks the amber liquid.
SLAMS the shot glass down.

CARRIE
Keep ‘em coming.

AXEL
(pours)
I didn’t mean to pry.
You just look like you
could use a friend.

She DOWNS it.
CRACKS the glass on the bar.
Axel pours.

CARRIE
(sips her beer)
Well, let’s see.
First, my girlfriend left
the country without saying goodbye,
then a one-night stand hired me
to find out who killed her husband,
so I just HAD to
fuck her receptionist --
and then, OH YEAH, my
fucking HOUSE BURNED DOWN,
and I LOST EVERYTHING,
so I BEAT THE SHIT
outta the guy who did it,
and ALMOST KILLED him.
(DOWNS the shot)
Ahhhhh.
Get the day started right.
(burps)
Oh, yeah -- jail was nice, too.

AXEL
That’s some fucked-up shit.
I’m sorry.
(beat)
Fuck.

She points at the shot glass.
Smiles, evil.

AXEL
Maybe you should slow it down a bit.
You have any breakfast yet?
(off her silence)
How ‘bout I fix you a cheeseburger?
Get somethin’ in yer belly.

CARRIE
(a whisper)
That would be -- really nice of you.

Axel nods.
Shuffles into the back.

Carrie crumples.
About to lose it.

Her cell RINGS.
She fishes it out. Listens.

CARRIE
Hello?

INTERCUT WITH:

INT./EXT - UNMARKED CAR - MOVING - CONTINUOUS
Aya drives. Bernie speaks on the car phone.
White-faced.

BERNIE
Carrie?

CARRIE
Bernie.
How’s tricks?
Oh, that’s right,
tricks are for chicks.

BERNIE
Not so good, Carrie.
(beat)
The ballistics report shows
your gun killed Flender.

CARRIE
You mean the Magnum?
(mumbles, to herself)
So it didn’t just disappear.
I knew someone fucking took it.

BERNIE
The revolving door on your bedroom
won’t work as an alibi, Carrie.
(ominous)
We have a big problem.

CARRIE
We always had a problem, Bernie.
Except the sex was so fucking good --

BERNIE
We can do this one of two ways.
You can turn yourself in, now --
and I’ll get the best fucking deal
I can for you, I promise.

CARRIE
And the second way?

BERNIE
You don’t want that.
It’s not pretty.

CARRIE
As Steve Martin said,
Comedy isn’t pretty.
And you’re forgetting the third way.

BERNIE
Carrie --

CARRIE
It’s called --
(realizes)
Eat shit and DIE, motherfucker.

She CLICKS the phone shut.
Bernie hangs up.
Dials another number.

BERNIE
You get the location?
(beat)
Shit.

AYA
I told you.
You should have let me talk to her.
Now we don’t know where she is.

BERNIE
Shut THE FUCK up.
That’s my EX-WIFE,
who’s now a fugitive from the law.

AYA
You still have feelings for her.

PUSH IN ON Bernie.
In denial.

BERNIE
Shut the fuck up and drive.

IN THE BAR
Carrie wolfs down the greasy burger.
Axel watches, proud.

AXEL
The secret is what I put in the meat.
Some pepper, ground onion --
and Tabasco sauce.

CARRIE
If I wasn’t on the lam,
I’d fuck your brains out.

AXEL
On -- the lam?

CARRIE
I’ve been fingered.
Someone framed me for murder.
So now I have to go underground.
(realizes)
Shit. What do I do with my car --

AXEL
That’s a tough break.
(thinks)
Hey. I live right down the block.
And I have an empty garage.
I keep my hog in the living room
where it’s warm.

CARRIE
You’d -- do that for me?

AXEL
Did five years in Ossining.
Gang fight with another cycle club.
Ruled justifiable homicide,
but I had a kilo of smack
in the saddle bag.
Left the club after I got sprung.
Too old for that shit anymore.

He pours two shots.
They lift them in a toast --

CARRIE
Once an outlaw, always an outlaw.

AXEL
Something like that.

And they DOWN them.

You Are What You Eat

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 24 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, the plot thickens when homicide dicks Bernie Keko and Aya Meir get the ballistics report report back, only to discover that private eye Carrie Love is now a suspect in 'the movie producer murders.'


INT. SANTA MONICA POLICE HEADQUARTERS - DAY
Bernie and Aya sit at their desks.
Facing each other.

Aya is eating a vegetarian wrap.
Sips from a bottle of water.

Bernie, a cheeseburger and fries.
And a super-sized coke.

AYA
(looks at his food)
They say you are
what you eat --

BERNIE
Then what are
you, a vegetable?
That’s funny,
you can move.

AYA
THIS is healthy --
(points)
THAT is dead animal flesh,
served with sugar and
salt and grease.

Bernie takes a big bite.
Smiles wolfishly.

BERNIE
I know.
And it’s so fucking GOOD.
GRRRRRR.

MALE VOICE (O.C.)
I’m glad to see you two
are playing nicely.

In walks Lipshitz.
Scratching his belly.

LIPSHITZ
What’s the scoop?
Did you talk
to Flender’s widow?

BERNIE
Yeah.
Cold fish, that one.
Said she’d already
given her statement.

LIPSHITZ
Do you think the
murders are connected?

BERNIE
I’m not sure.
Maybe.

AYA
Definitely not.

Bernie and Lipshitz
exchange glances.

LIPSHITZ
(to Bernie)
You have anything new?

BERNIE
Thought you’d never ask.
We’ve placed Carrie Love
at the scene of Yavo’s murder
at the time of death.

LIPSHITZ
But do you really think --

BERNIE
I don’t know what to think.
Maybe, if she was on a tear --

AYA
You’re being ridiculous.
There’s no way
Carrie Love killed Yavo.
It doesn’t make any sense.

BERNIE
Murder NEVER makes sense, doll.
(to Lipshitz)
There’s some connection though --
she’s hired by
one guy’s wife to find him,
and then is seen where
the other guy gets it.
Too big of a coincidence.

AYA
She’s a DETECTIVE.
She was following LEADS.

RASPY MALE VOICE (O.C.)
With a rather exotic
form of ammunition,
it would appear.

Muller appears.
Holding a ballistics report.
He reads --

MULLER
Flender was shot with
45-caliber dum-dum
hollow points --

He smiles.
Preening.
In the spotlight.

LIPSHITZ
Come on, Muller --
out with it.

MULLER
Fired from a gun
registered to --

Muller looks up
from the report.
Smiles grimly.

LIPSHITZ
MULLER.

MULLER
Ms. -- Carrie Love.

BERNIE
Shit.

LIPSHITZ
Fuck.

AYA
No.

They exchange glances.
Realizing the implications.

LIPSHITZ
Guess you're gonna have
to bring her in.

BERNIE
Let me call her first.
I know how to handle her.

AYA
Oh, yeah.
That's obvious.
(beat)
Get divorced much?

What Doesn't Kill You

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 23 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, widow Gay Flender takes over her dead husband's production company after his partner Roland Yavo is killed ... and is then questioned by homicide dicks Bernie Keko and Aya Meir about his murder. Meanwhile, private eye Carrie Love and production assistant Jenny Lane 'play house' at Jenny's joint after Carrie loses her home in a fire ...


INT. YAVO/FLENDER FILMS - FLENDER’S OFFICE - MORNING
Fleming sits behind Harvey’s big desk. Feet up.
On the phone. Listening.
Twirling the cord with his finger.

FLEMING
I understand, Jackie.
But we have one show in prep,
one in principal,
and two in post.
Somebody has to steer the ship,
and since I’ve been first mate
for over ten years --

FEMALE VOICE (O.C.)
Love the nautical references.

GAY FLENDER
stands in the doorway.
Hands on hips. Livid.

GAY
Now get THE FUCK
out of my husband’s office.

FLEMING
(into the phone)
Gotta go.
(SLAMS it down)
Gay. How are you?

GAY
I’ll be fine when you
GET THE FUCK out of here.

FLEMING
(stands)
I’m sorry, I thought I should --

GAY
You thought? You THOUGHT?
That’s the problem right there.
You tried to THINK.
Now go back to your work station
and answer the fucking phones.

FLEMING
(as he leaves, dejected)
Okay, Mrs. -- uh, Gay.

GAY
And get me a Perrier
while you’re at it.
Lime. In a cup.
With a fuckload of ice.
And then get Variety on the phone.
I’ve gotta statement to make.

Modi walks in.
Looks jittery. Spooked.

MODI
Gay.
What are you doing here?
In -- Harvey’s office?

GAY
It’s my office now.
(low)
Yavo was killed last night,
shot in the head.

MODI
Yavo’s -- dead?

GAY
(nods)
Someone has to --
steer the ship.

MODI
Where? When?
We should account
for where we were.

GAY
(sharp whisper)
Shhh. Not here.

A voice BLEATS
on the desktop intercom.

JENNY (O.C.)
Gay?
There are a couple of --
detectives here to see you.

GAY
(to herself)
Shit.
(into the intercom)
Bring them on back, Jenny -- thanks.

Gay and Modi exchange looks.

INT. HARVEY FLENDER’S OFFICE - AT THAT MOMENT
Bernie and Aya stand in the doorway.

Gay swivels in the large,
leather desk chair.

Sips Perrier.
Modi perches on the couch.

Bright, scary-beaming face.
Sips his coffee.

GAY
I’ve already been through this
twice with a couple different officers.
Is this really necessary?

BERNIE
Just a few routine questions, ma’am.

GAY
Detective, my husband was MURDERED,
and I think you should be out there
trying to find his KILLER --
instead of badgering me with
the same questions over and over again.

Bernie nods slowly.
Fishes out his card.
Hands it to Gay.

BERNIE
Call me if you
remember anything else.

Aya pulls out her card.
Slides it onto the desk.

AYA
Call me if you need someone to talk to.
I have a psychology degree.
I’ve done a lot of grief counseling.

BERNIE
And don’t leave town.

GAY
Leave town?
I have a funeral to plan.
A eulogy to write, a -- a --

She breaks down.
Starts crying.

INT. JENNY’S APARTMENT - AT THAT MOMENT
Jenny stands at the front door.
Shrugs into her jacket.

Smiles wanly at Carrie,
looking out the windows, back to us.

JENNY
Just make yourself at home.
I’m sorry, but I have to go to work.
Modi, my boss -- can be --

CARRIE
An asshole.
So you said.

JENNY
Everything’s gonna be okay.
You can stay
as long as you like.
Help yourself to
what’s in the fridge.
When I get back,
I’ll fix us a nice dinner.

CARRIE
(turns)
Thanks.
really --

JENNY
It’s okay.

Jenny walks over to Carrie.
Leans up.

Kisses her.
They hug.

CARRIE
I can feel storm clouds gathering.
You better be careful.

JENNY
Careful?
Careful of what?

CARRIE
They say what doesn’t kill you
makes you stronger.

JENNY
Kill who?
Me?

PUSH IN ON Carrie.
Falling apart.

CARRIE
No.
Me --