Let The Games Begin

Happy Tuesday, crime slicksters. It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where the girls are hot, the drinks are cold, and the hardboiled-pulp-noir action is non-stop, right here, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.

In Chaper 37 of SPIRAL, now that Andy is out of the picture, Savannah and Dex are left to their own devices, which involves nude mud wrestling for Savannah, and rough trade in a trashy gay bar for Dex ...


INT. TROPICANA STRIP CLUB - NIGHT
A swarm of MALE CUSTOMERS
surround a stage with a boxing ring.

Four WOMEN, one of them Shannon,
stand in the ring wearing string bikinis.

Mudwrestling time.

A RING ANNOUNCER's voice BOOMS over the P.A.

ANNOUNCER (O.S.)
Ladies and gentlemen,
tonight the Tropicana Club
is pleased to present
celebrity tag-team mud wrestling!

The crowd HOOTS and HOLLERS.

ANNOUNCER (O.S.)
In this corner, the champions,
defending their title,
Livid Video superstars
P.J. Hooker and Topanga Canyon!

The crowd ROARS. The girls take a bow,
then raise their fists in the air,
Rocky-like.

ANNOUNCER
And in this corner, our challengers,
adult film superstars
Chayse Manhattan and Savannah!

The crowd ROARS again.
CHAYSE MANHATTAN and Shannon
raise their fists in the air.

ANNOUNCER
Alright, ladies!
On the count of three,
let the games begin!
(pause)
One!
(pause)
Two!
(pause)
THREE!

The four women TEAR into each other
Mud goes FLYING, oiled flesh gets SPLATTERED.
Shannon SLIPS and FALLS on her ass.

CLOSE UP OF TWO PATRONS AT BAR
Two MEN watch the match
on a video monitor at the bar.

MAN NO. 1
I can't decide if that's totally disgusting...
or a complete turn on.

MAN NO. 2
I guess it's a little of both.

INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT
Shannon sits in a bathroom stall,
bleary-eyed and muddy.

Her top is open to the waist,
breasts exposed.

A length of rubber tubing
is tied around her upper arm.

She makes a fist, JABS a syringe
a vein, then slowly PUSHES the plunger in.
Her head leans back, eyes closing, in ecstasy.

INT. BAR - NIGHT
The Revolver gay bar
in West Hollywood is quiet.
It's a weeknight, late.

Classic 70's disco blares on the jukebox.
Donna Summer?

A BARTENDER cleans glasses.
Dex sits at the bar nursing a beer,
completely toasted.

A couple of GAY MEN sit at the other end
of the bar talking quietly.

DEX
Hey, I said I'd like another shot.

The bartender ignores Dex
and continues washing glasses.

DEX
I said, I need another shot!

BARTENDER
I told you I'm not gonna
serve you anymore.

DEX
Oh yeah?
Well you can just SUCK MY DICK!

The two men at the end of the bar
look at Dex.

BARTENDER
I'm afraid I'm gonna have
to ask you to leave.
You can suck your own dick. Peter?

One of the men stands up.
PETER is big and buff. The bouncer.

BARTENDER
Would you please take out the trash?

Peter ambles over to Dex.

DEX
Well, hello, miss thing.
A bet you're hung like a Hebrew National.
Are you a top or a bottom?

PETER
Just call me your worst nightmare.

Peter GRABS Dex by his collar
and YANKS him off his stool.

PETER
And it's time for beddy-bye --