Lost Angeles

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 the next chapter of our special, 'this week only' preview of RIDGEWAY, we flash back to the beginning of our story, where we meet Hollywood screenwriter Cate Salinger, who is being evicted from her home ... and her online squeeze, artist Kayla Moss.


EXT. COASTLINE - DAY
Sunshine so bright it hurts.
Not a cloud in the sky.

Deep blue ocean.
White sandy beach.

Just another day in paradise city
where the grass is green
and the girls are shitty.

EXT. COURTHOUSE - DAY
Your typical drab, pale puke
seventies-era courthouse.

But this is Santa Monica, California,
so the HOMELESS PEOPLE lying
on the grass outside are well-groomed.

A steady stream of LAWYERS, COPS,
DEFENDANTS and PLAINTIFFS stream in.

Some smiling. Some frowning.
And more than a few on the verge of tears.

LEGEND: ‘THREE MONTHS EARLIER.’

INT. COURTROOM - DAY
Small. Plain. Filled with the dregs of society.
And that’s just the lawyers.

Welcome to Eviction Court, where all day,
every day, people find out
the date they lose their home.

Standing before the
STERN BUT CUTE FEMALE JUDGE (40’s)
is Tall Woman, who we recognize
from the opening scene

Meet CATE SALINGER (40),
rakish in a black suit and hipster glasses.
Great-looking, but looks drained and stressed-out.

Standing next to her is her LANDLORD (70’s),
tall and skinny with a giant head like a lollipop --
and his LAWYER, a boisterous BIG GUY (50’s)
clutching a sheaf of papers.

STERN BUT CUTE FEMALE JUDGE
So you’ve agreed to vacate the premises
August eighth.

CATE
Yes, your honor.

STERN BUT CUTE FEMALE JUDGE
Please get a conformed copy
of the judgement from the clerk.

Stern But Cute BANGS her gavel.
Landlord glares at Cate.

She fidgets. Looks down.
Not her finest hour.

EXT. SHITTY APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY
An old, run-down, baby vomit-colored shithole
nestled uncomfortably between two
gleaming three-million dollar mansion on a canal.

We see the beach across the street.
Then the top of a giant sailboat
gliding by in the distance.

Welcome to the Marina Del Rey peninsula,
a secret oasis on the outskirts of Lost Angeles.
Paradise found. Then lost.

INT. CATE’S APARTMENT - DAY
It’s borderline hoarder time
in what once was a light,
airy room with a wall of windows,
now stuffed to the gills.

Giant boxes filled with movies, books, CD’s,
clothes and other crap dot the joint.
Portrait of a writer as being evicted.

Cate picks up a giant garbage bag.
Takes it outside.

IN THE DRIVEWAY
She carries the bag
out to the trash bin.

It suddenly BREAKS OPEN, spilling
several dozen SHOES onto the pavement.

CATE
Goddamn cheap fucking dollar store bags.

She gets down on her knees.
Starts stuffing them into
what’s left of the ripped bag.

Then slowly, carefully carries
the unwieldy mountain of footwear to the trash.

A high-heeled platform shoe falls out.
HITS the pavement with a CLUNK.

EXT. VICTORIAN HOUSE - NIGHT
A faded Victorian home
on a cracked mountain top road.

Cheerfully painted orange, red and yellow.
A BLACK CAT stares ominously out the window.

Watches an ORANGE FOX trot by.
Then a brightly colored TROLLEY.

This is your brain on rustic.

A CHUBBY RETARDED GIRL (20’s)
wearing a tiara stands in the gravel driveway.

Slowly spins in a circle, arms outstretched,
smiling like some demented Eraserhead outtake.

A WOMAN (40’s) comes up the front walk.
Pretty, with short, curly brown hair
flecked with grey.

One long, lone tendril spins
down the side of her cheek.
Make art, not war.

Meet KAYLA MOSS,
self-proclaimed punk mountain dyke.

Kayla trudges up the stone walkway.
Goes to the door.

Looks at Chubby Retarded. Winces.
Goes inside.

INT. CATE’S APARTMENT - DAY
Cate sits at an old workstation
working her laptop.

BOBBY, a black spaniel-retriever mix
sleeps at her feet.

ON THE SCREEN
We see the social media website Friendbook.
A conversation scrolls down a chat window:

Kayla:
How are you doing?
Better? Did court go okay?

Cate:
Much better. Great news.
Landlord gave me a month.

Kayla:
That’s great!
How’s the fundraising going?

Cate:
We hit three thousand. Nice, huh?

Kayla:
Wow. Good going.
How’s the trailer hunt going?

Cate:
Looking at one in Malibu at three.
Wish me luck.

Kayla:
Oh, wow. Then you better get going.

Cate:
Yeah. Just wanted to give you the good news.
Will report back later.

Kayla:
I’ll be here. Waiting for YOU.

Cate smiles. Starts typing.
The lights flicker, then GO OUT.

CATE
Shit.

EXT. MALIBU BLUFF - DAY
A small TRAILER parked at the top
of a bluff in the dirt.

The view of the ocean is breathtaking.
The trailer, not.

A mobile home would be a mansion
in comparison. Whee-doggie.

A FOUR-WHEEL DRIVE PICKUP TRUCK
climbs up from the other side.

Parks next to the mobile shack on wheels.
Cate and a TALL, ACNE-SCARRED GUY get out.
Walk over to it.

CATE
This is -- up really high.

ACNE-SCARRED GUY
Hauled it up the other side.
Not the way we came.
No problem getting it down.

Acne-Scarred opens the door.
They go in.

INT. SHITTY TRAILER - DAY
Beyond sad. A tiny, threadbare
couch in the ‘living room’ with a
chipped table and ancient portable TV.

ACNE-SCARRED GUY
TV goes with me.

Cate nods. Goes to the ‘kitchenette.’
Grimy would be a compliment.

Looks at the hose coming in
through a window.

ACNE-SCARRED GUY
Water’s not hooked up.
Run that from the house down the way.

CATE
Parking it in a friend’s driveway.
Guess I could do that.

INT. SHITTY TRAILER - BEDROOM - DAY
Just big enough for a small bed and night table.
Cate squats down below the low ceiling.
Examines the filthy carpet.

ACNE-SCARRED GUY
You can have the table.

Cate nods, thinking.
Goes back down into the kitchenette.
Opens a door on the other side, looks into --

INT. SHITTY TRAILER - BATHROOM - DAY
Beyond crappy. Pun intended.
Tons of assorted junk is piled up
in the shower and on the tiny toilet.

A fly BUZZES around the brackish water
in the clogged sink.

ACNE-SCARRED GUY
I gotta commode outside.
(off her look)
Don’t worry.
I’ll clean all that stuff out.

PUSH IN on Cate’s face. In shock.