Call Of Booty

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 16 of NOWHERE GIRL, Homeland Security agent April Street gets arrested by black ops spook Yuri Vlaovic with the help of some unknowing cops. Meanwhile, Bel Air Security sends a car to the Homeowner who's been taken hostage by the terrorists ... and stripper with a suitcase nuke Cherry Nation finds help with her getaway from a most unlikely source ... the death metal band Skull Bong.

EXT. HOLLYWOOD HILLS HOME - NIGHT
LOUD ROCK MUSIC starts playing nearby.

Cherry looks at the house
they’re in front of.

It’s smaller, ranch-style.
And the music is coming from the garage.

CHERRY
Follow me.
(beat)
I’ve got an idea --

INT. MERCEDES SUV - MOVING - NIGHT - AT THAT MOMENT
April drives west on Sunset.
Starts to approach the strip.

She looks at the GPS.
A red dot BLINKS on the screen.

APRIL
I’ve got ya, baby.

A siren WHOOP-WHOOPS behind her.
An ANGRY VOICE comes over the loudspeaker.

MALE VOICE (O.C.)
This is LAPD!
Pull over, NOW!

APRIL
FUCK. Again?

She turns the wheel.
Pulls over.
Stops at the curb.

OFFICER appears on
either side of the car.
WEAPONS drawn.

CRAZED COP
Put your hands where I can see them,
and step out of the car, NOW.

APRIL
I’m a federal officer.

CRAZED COP
I said RAISE YOUR HANDS
AND GET OUT OF THE CAR, NOW.

APRIL
Okay, okay --

She puts them up.
Opens the door.
gets out.

APRIL (CONT’D)
(reaches in her pocket)
I’m just gonna get my ID --

The cop GRABS April, WHIRLS her around --
and SLAMS HER against the car.

APRIL (CONT’D)
OW!

Yuri walks over.
Lights a cigarette.
Surveys his prize.

YURI
(to the cop)
Don’t cuff her.
She’s mine.
(to April)
We meet again, Ms. Street.

APRIL
(whips her head around)
YOU.

YURI
Lucky for you I wear stainless steel cup.

INT. BELL AIR SECURITY HEADQUARTERS - NIGHT - AT THAT MOMENT
A maze of cubicles, mostly empty.

A pair of FEMALE DISPATCHERS
sit side-by side at adjacent work stations.

KANEESHA (35), a big, beautiful
African American woman with long,
curled nails turns toward her coworker.

KANEESHA
I just got another one.

MIRASOL (25), a hot, young Latina
takes a sip of coffee.

MIRASOL
Another what.

KANEESHA
Another call from the same number.
But they don’t say nothin’.
They’ve called four times
in the last half-hour.

MIRASOL
Where they at?

KANEESHA
Caller ID says they be
in the Hollywood Hills.

MIRASOL
Maybe he be havin’
a heart attack or somethin’.

KANEESHA
Maybe it’s his kid
playin’ a practical joke.

MIRASOL
Maybe not.

KANEESHA
I been on this job over ten years,
and I think I KNOW
when it’s a real call.

MIRASOL
Suit yourself.
(beat)
I’m just sayin.’

KANEESHA
(looks at her monitor)
Shit. There it is again.
Fuck it. I’m sendin’ a car.

EXT. RANCH HOUSE GARAGE - NIGHT - AT THAT MOMENT
Cherry, Peeler and Stan walk up to the door.
The music grows LOUDER.
Big, thick slabs of heavy metal.

PEELER
Decent band.

STAN
Sounds kinda like Sabbath.

CHERRY
Let me do the talking.

INT. GARAGE - CONTINUOUS
Small and dark, with soundproofing
on the walls and ceiling.

Four HAIRY MUSICIANS, all early 20’s,
are rocking out at a DEAFENING VOLUME.

Meet SKULL BONG.

The LEAD SINGER faces a mirror,
singing to his own image.
Practicing his moves.

LEAD SINGER
'And when Satan sings,
the blood will flow,
and the HELL-MOUTH
will open for YOU --

The side door OPENS.
In walks Cherry, Peeler and Stan.

The band doesn’t notice,
lost in it’s dark reverie.

Cherry walks over to the circuit breaker.
SHUTS OFF the power.

The music DIES.
Lights go OFF.

LEAD SINGER (V.O.) (CONT'D)
DUDE. What the FUCK.

BASS PLAYER (V.O.)
I told you not to turn
the Marshall all the way up.

DRUMMER (V.O.)
It’s Satan, dude.
And he’s PISSED.

The lights SNAP back on.
Cherry points her gun at the band.

LEAD SINGER
(sees her)
Whoah. BABE alert.

CHERRY
Sorry to interrupt the concert, boys --
but I’ve been cuffed to a suitcase nuke,
my car just died, my ex-lover,
the CIA and Homeland security
are hot on my trail,
and I gotta go visit some
Middle-Eastern terrorists up the hill.
(CLICKS the hammer)
So which one of you Ozzy-wanabes
is gonna be my tour guide?