Shaken, Not Slurred

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 31 of FULL BODY, wannabe lounge singer Summer Donovan gets her big chance onstage at The Eighteenth Street Lounge, DC's hippest night spot. Meanwhile, across town, Portuguese temptress Catalina Gil's big dinner date with French-African souffle Ayanna Proxul hits the skids when Ayanna OD's in the ladies' room ...


INT. EIGHTEENTH STREET LOUNGE - MAIN ROOM - NIGHT
Thievery’s house-dub remix of
Nora Jones’ ANGELS over --

Gianluca. In a dark corner
huddled with ERIC HILTON (30’s).

Pale, good looking.
Shaken, not stirred.

Azure eyes glint with
the secrets of success.
Twinkle with passion.

ERIC
But we didn’t send for another artist.

INTENSE HISPANIC MAN
What were you thinking?
Are you high?

Meet ROB GARZA (30’s), Eric’s partner.
Hispanic, broad-shouldered.

Serpentine soul patch, sideburns.
Glossy black hair pulled back
under a middle-eastern cap.
Dark eyes flash.

ERIC
Go find the girl.
Escort her out.

GIANLUCA
But she --
(pulls out CD)
Said she sent you this.
Signed her to the label --

ROB
(takes the CD, looks at it)
You fell for THIS?
Every kid in the lounge
has a demo.

ERIC
Easy, Rob -- I get it.
(to Gianluca)
She must be -- exquisite.

GIANLUCA
She, she -- is.

ERIC
(sees something)
You’re right.
She is.

They turn their heads.
Look at --

SUMMER
standing on a raised platform
in the middle of the room.

Wrapped in silk.
Draped arms rise.
A butterfly.

BRITISH FEMALE VOICE (O.C.)
Ladies and gentlemen,
Messieurs and Madams,
the Eighteenth Street Lounge
is proud to present`--

The aching, yearning,
supple trip-hop of Hooverphonic’s
CLUB MONTEPULCIANO oozes over --

MALE VOICE (O.C.)
Wednesday.

Summer reaches the sky.
Glorious. Taking flight.

SUMMER
(sings)
Fiona said something nice to me,
green velvet jacket sets you free --
Club Montepulciano is what you need --

(beat)
Blue Hawaii, Picadilly whore --
a cocktail is what I’m hoping for --

THE CROWD
is entranced.
She’s a hit.

A DIPLOMAT in a
white dinner jacket
leans over.

Whispers in a
RASTA’S ear.

A TURBANED SHEIK nods.
Riding the wave.

SUMMER
shimmies and sways to the music.
Losing herself.

A RIVULET OF BLOOD
trickles out of her nose.

Runs down her face.
Into her mouth.

A TRUST FUND HIPSTER
notices. Grins.
Points. Laughs.

SUMMER
tastes something wrong.
Wipes her nose.

Sees the blood. GASPS.
Turns, RUNS off the stage,
WHIRLS through the crowd.

SUMMER
I’m sorry! I’m Sorry! I’m sorry --

ROB AND ERIC
watch her go.

ROB
Shame.

ERIC
Nice voice.

ROB
Yeah --

ERIC
What was her name again?

INT. DHUMBA RESTAURANT - AT THAT MOMENT
Catalina sits at a primo table.
Pulls out her cell phone.

Turns it on.
Listens to a message.

Rolls angry eyes.
Puts it away.
Looks at her watch.

CATALINA
What is she doing?

IN THE LADIES’ ROOM
Ayanna pulls herself up.

Grabs the paper roll,
which TEARS OFF.

She loses her balance,
BANGS against the door --

AYANNA
Uhh!
Careens forward. Slips.
BANG. Head HITS the sink.

HITS the tiles with a CRACK.
Say good night, Gracie.

IN THE RESTAURANT
Catalina reads the menu.

CATALINA
Sweet and sour lamb?

A SCREAM from the back.
PATRONS whip their heads, look.

A WAITRESS appears.
Blood on her hands.

FREAKED-OUT WAITRESS
There’s a woman in the ladies’ room
with her skull cracked open!

CATALINA
Ayanna!

Chick FLIES BY her table.

CHICK
Twenty-four skiddoo
on the 911, doll-face -- c’mon!

They race toward the commotion.

CATALINA
How did you -- ?

CHICK
She let her fingers do the crying --