Blood Gets In Your Eyes

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.

Hope you all enjoyed the special preview of RIDGEWAY last week. Next up, we have one of my favorite scripts. THE DISH (formerly known as A DISH BEST KILLED) is a modern noir in the vein of BODY HEAT and BOUND (not to mention THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE) in which a pair of murderous lesbians try to get away with murder. And, if you pay attention, you'll discover where I got the name for this blog.

In Chapter 1 of THE DISH, faded B-movie starlet Haven Crayce and 'soft butch' personal trainer Jett Targo meet cute at the marina walking their dogs, and more than sparks fly when Haven offers Jett a tour of her houseboat ...


EXT. MARINA - DUSK
A cool, crisp evening.
Magic hour tequila sunset
smears orange on blue water.

Wind whips through a line of
luxury sailboats gently bobbing.
A GULL flies by. CAW-CAW-CAWS.

CAMERA finds a HOUSEBOAT.
Ghostly. Shades drawn.

Old and peeling. Dark wood. Brass fixtures.
We see the vessel’s name
on the stern in cracked, gold cursive.

SAFE HAVEN, indeed.

A WOMAN (25) appears on the deck.
We GASP, as she is heartbreakingly beautiful.

The kind that makes you ache with longing.
curvy cocktail with mile-high legs.

Meet HAVEN CRAYCE. Blonde, blue-eyed.
The stuff of pinup dreams.

Right now she’s in a
killer black cocktail dress
and five-inch heels.

Pulls a JACK RUSSELL TERRIER
on a leash.

HAVEN
(puts on shades)
Come on, Buster.

And the dog TAKES OFF
like a rocket.

YANKS the leash, as Haven
CAREENS down the gangplank,
heels CLACK-CLACK-CLACKING.

HAVEN
Buster, GODAMMIT.

EXT. MARINA CHANNEL - PARK - AT THAT MOMENT
Another WOMAN (28) walks a small, black DOG.
Tall and lanky, like a jock.

Pretty in that clear-eyed Midwestern way.
Chestnut mane in a boyish bob.
Sweats, denim and leather.

Meet JETT TARGO.
Recent transplant from Kansas.

Buff, in shape, but there’s a
vague hint of wild Saturday nights.

Secret debaucheries.
She gives TINA a doggie treat.

JETT
Good girl.

They start ambling down the sidewalk.
Watching the boats in the channel.

It’s bucolic.
Then why does Jett look pensive?

HAVEN comes into view,
pulled by Buster. She stops.

Sees Jett.
Lowers her sunglasses.
Gets a better look.

Jett sees Haven.
JERKS to a stop.

If we could see up close,
we’d notice the hairs standing up
on the back of her neck.

HAVEN
Cute dog. What is she?

JETT
She’s, uh -- a
Cocker Spaniel-King Charles mix.
My neighbor’s dog.
I walk her sometimes as a favor.

HAVEN
Buster’s a Jack Russell.
(rubs the dog’s head)
Aren’t you, Mister Man?
(offers her hand)
I’m Haven. Haven Crayce.

JETT
(takes it, shakes)
Jett Targo. This is Tina.
(beat)
Haven Crayce. Sounds exotic.

HAVEN
Jett Targo. Sounds athletic.
Which way are you walking?

JETT
(points)
That way. We were --
to go look at the boats.

HAVEN
Great. Me, too.

JETT
You like boats?

HAVEN
Not really.
(beat)
I live on one.

EXT. MARINA - DOCK - A FEW MINUTES LATER
Haven and Jett stand on the dock.
Looking at the SAFE HAVEN.

JETT
You live on it? Year round?

HAVEN
Unfortunately.

JETT
I’d love to live on a boat like this.

HAVEN
Would you like a tour?

PUSH IN ON Jett. Nervous.
Approaching excited.

JETT
Sure.

INT. CRAYCE HOUSEBOAT - MOMENTS LATER
Haven leads Jett into a
living room area with a galley.

Buster goes to the water bowl.
Tina sniffs around.

HAVEN
This is where we do
most of our entertaining.

JETT
We?

HAVEN
My husband and I.

JETT
Oh.

HAVEN
Don’t look so disappointed.
I married the old fuck for his money,
and for my career.

Haven walks over to Jett.
Gets close. Jett stares.
The chemistry is palpable. Electric.

HAVEN
(softly)
You know Dart Crayce, the director?

JETT
Sure. He directed all
those classic film noirs --
That Killing Feeling,
The Dead Don’t Cry,
Blood Gets In Your Eyes --

Haven takes Jett’s hands in hers.
A clock TICK-TICK-TICKS.

HAVEN
That’s him.
(beat)
And now he’s very old --
and very sick.

Haven closes her eyes.
Leans in for a kiss.

JETT
I don’t think -- this is a good --

But Haven’s warm, soft mouth is too fast.
She kisses Jett. It’s delicious.
The world stops for a moment. We sigh.

A bell RING-RING-RINGS. Haven JUMPS.

HAVEN
Shit.

JETT
What was that?

HAVEN
(angry, eyes flashing)
That’s him.
(beat)
The old bastard’s bed-ridden.
It’s a fucking nightmare.
He’s a diabetic fuck, and I’m
a prisoner on the good ship insulin.
(come hither)
Stay here. Be right back.

And she dashes off.

PUSH IN ON Jett. Inflamed. Confused.