Wednesday, May 20, 2015
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 13 of BABY HEISTER, it's a criminal master class when Kelsey gets to hang out with a group of heisters and learns all the details involved in planning an armored truck robbery.
INT. DOC’S FARMHOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
The gang sits around the living room
on couches and chairs drinking bottles of beer.
Except for Jo, having coffee.
Kelsey looks around the room.
Trying to hide her excitement.
So tell me about the job.
Armored car heist. Palm Springs.
Fat and juicy.
Who’s the point person?
You remember Freddie Fingers?
Unfortunately. But I thought he
retired after that dust-up in Reno.
So did he. But he recently
shacked up with this waitress --
Don’t tell me. Some roadside diner?
Yeah. The job is her idea.
But it’s a good one. It can work.
I don’t like it.
(looks at Kelsey)
Freddie’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer.
And fucking the inside man
tends to cloud your judgment.
(looks at Dusty)
Tell me about the hash-slinger.
What’s there to tell? She’s a waitress.
Tired of serving tuna melts to
truckers for chump change.
Tell me about the can. What’s the gag?
It comes by once a week, same time exactly.
Always parks in the same place.
Three guards take turns going to the head.
Last one grabs coffees to go.
Then they split.
How long are they there?
Fifteen minutes, give or take.
And they always park in the same spot.
Always. Like fucking clockwork.
How much dough?
This is the beauty part.
Every Friday, they transfer cash to all
the local branches from the main bank --
You know, payday.
So it’s alot of cabbage.
Waitress says it’s gotta be at least a million.
Still not sure I like it.
I wanna meet the soup jockey.
We’re one step ahead of you.
Already set it up.
(looks at Kelsey)
You never meet the people setting up
a job WHERE the job is.
You don’t want the locals
to remember seeing you.
Escape route or hole up?
We’ll defer to your expertise.
Outlying area is kinda open.
The desert interstate kinda
narrows your options.
There are three ways to finish a job.
First is you grab the loot and take
a pre-arranged escape route that’s cool.
Second is you hole up somewhere
until the heat dies down,
then split up the loot
and go your separate ways.
What’s the third?
Hide the loot, split,
then come back for it later.
Kinda tricky, but it’s good when
there’s not a good escape route
and no place to hole up.
Doc sips his beer. Eyes the men.
I need the job, Doc.
Had a bad run in Atlantic City.
Every job has expenses. Transportation.
Weapons. Food and lodging.
And sometimes you need tech stuff,
Usually you get an outside
financier to put up the dough.
They either get double it back,
or a percentage.
That’s the way I like to do it.
That way, nobody has
more at stake than the others.
(looks at Dusty)
But some people aren’t good at
managing their money between jobs.
You asking ace shares?
Nah. Even split all around. Four shares.
You ARE desperate.
Ace shares means more money --
What’s your situation?
I’m cool. Gone through about
half the scratch from my last job.
Don’t like my reserves to get below that --
It’s a good job, Doc. You’ll see.
(nods at Simon)
And you two vouch for Jason Statham here?
Yeah. We’ve both worked with him.
Best wheelman I’ve ever seen.
Where’d you learn to drive so well?
Don’t you follow NASCAR?
Kid’s been in the country six months.
Already won five races.
You make me blush.
Doc nods slowly. Sips his beer. Eyes them.
When do we meet Freddie Fingers
and Truck Stop Sally?
In a couple hours.
Told ‘em to meet us at the Dairy Shack.
We can sit outside. Have some privacy.
PUSH IN ON Kelsey’s face. Excited.
And ice cream --