Wednesday, December 17, 2014
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 3 of FILLMORE, at the behest of his father to keep him out of trouble, Clarence gets a job working on a fruit and vegetable cart and discovers he has a natural gift for sales, but finds it boring, so when he gets a job at a pharmacy making deliveries to a whore house, he finds that the 'world's oldest profession' is more to his liking ...
EXT. SMALL TOWN - NOON - DAY
An old HORSE-DRAWN WAGON drives down the street.
It’s driven by MR. FAUST (50’s)
a lanky, smiling German fellow.
The wagon is loaded with vegetables and fruit --
Vegetable Man, it’s the Vegetable Man.
Get your fresh fruit and vegetables,
as fast as you can --
Someone’s front door OPENS.
The wagon stops.
Apples, oranges, juicy ripe pears --
apples, oranges, juicy ripe pears --
A SMILING WOMAN (30’s) comes up to the wagon.
Good morning, Mr. Faust.
He smiles. Nods. Tips his hat.
Good morning, Mrs. Baker. Step right up.
What can we get for you today?
My, but don’t you look handsome today, Clarence.
I’ll take five apples, please.
(puts them in a bag, hands them to her)
An apple a day makes the beautiful women
keep comin’ my way --
I swear, Clarence.
I never sold so much so quickly.
We’re gonna be great team.
He hands Clarence a dollar bill. Clarence takes it.
Tries hard not to show his disappointment.
I’m sorry, Mr. Faust, but this ain’t for me.
It’s just a stop along the way.
I’m gonna be a blues singer.
You sing the blues?
Then sing us a SONG, Clarence.
Clarence nods excitedly.
Starts CLAPPING his hands.
Momma's got a chicken, called it a duck,
put it on the table with his feet sticking up --
Another WOMAN (19), Miss Emily,
a fine young thing, walks up to the wagon.
We hear a CAR ENGINE. Both women look.
It’s Blues Guitarist, slowly cruising by
in his candy-apple red Cadillac convertible.
Miss Emily. Feel like goin’ for a ride?
Miss Emily smiles. DASHES over.
Jumps in. They drive off.
PUSH IN ON Clarence’s face. Watching them go.
EXT. WHORE HOUSE - DAY
A ramshackle farm house on the outskirts of town
with a smattering of small bungalows next to it.
Clarence walks up to one of them
carrying a brown paper bag.
KNOCKS on the door.
A GORGEOUS HOOKER (18) opens it. Sees Clarence.
Wow, that was fast.
No problem, Daisy. We aim to please.
(hands her the bag)
Milk, bread, and a dozen eggs.
Uh -- what about my change?
There ain’t none.
She laughs. Shakes her head.
What’s so funny?
No change? You’re acting just like a pimp.
I swear --
INT. PHARMACY - DAY
An old-time drug store. The PHARMACIST (60’s),
a tall, incredibly skinny white man
with an egg-shaped head stands behind the counter.
Hands Clarence a white paper bag.
Please take this to Tilly Sackler
on Peachtree Lane, Clarence.
And don’t dilly-dally.
needs this prescription right away. Okay?
Don’t you worry, Mr. Magid.
I’ll be there faster than a jackrabbit.
EXT. TILLY SACKLER’S HOUSE - DAY
A nice, if plain, white clapboard house
in the good part of town.
Clarence stands on the stoop.
RINGS the doorbell.
The door OPENS. Out comes TILLY SACKLER (30’s)
a busty brunette right out of the movies.
Mornin,’ Miss Sackler.
I’ve got your order from the pharmacy --
(takes the bag)
It’s awfully hot out today, isn’t it?
Yes, ma’am. Sure is.
Would you like to come in
and have a glass of lemonade?
I made it myself.
Yes, ma’am --