Tuesday, June 9, 2015

They Shoot Cops, Don't They?


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 Chapter 27 of BABY HEISTER, Jo drives the hearse with her and Doc's life savings hidden in the casket, but when she gets pulled over by the highway patrol, things go from bad to violent ...


EXT. FREEWAY - DAY
The hearse heads west toward
Los Angeles in sparse traffic.

INT. HEARSE - MOVING - DAY
Country music on the radio.
Jo sits behind the wheel, driving.

Now wearing a chauffeur's cap
and aviator shades.

She looks in the rear view mirror.
Sees something.

JO
Shit, shit, shit.

BEHIND HER
Is a Highway Patrol car.
Lights FLASHING.

JO
Pulls over to the side of the road.
Pulls out a HANDGUN.

THE PATROL CAR
Pulls up behind her.
An ANGRY-LOOKING STATE TROOPER gets out.

Ambles over to the driver’s-side window.
It SLIDES down.

IN THE HEARSE
Jo looks at the trooper. Smiles.

JO
Good day, officer.
Was I going too fast?

ANGRY-LOOKING STATE TROOPER
Your tag’s expired.
License, registration and
proof of insurance, please.

She pulls out a wallet.
Starts handing documents to him.

JO
I’m so sorry.
I’ll get that taken care of right away.
(points at the registration)
The car is in my husband’s name.
We own the funeral home.

ANGRY-LOOKING STATE TROOPER
Since when does the owner
of a funeral home drive
the hearse themselves?

JO
When you’re a small family business,
everybody has to pitch in.

ANGRY-LOOKING STATE TROOPER
Would you please step out of the vehicle?
I’d like to see what’s in the casket.

JO
I’m sorry, officer.
It’s sealed. I can’t open it.

ANGRY-LOOKING STATE TROOPER
Step out of the vehicle NOW.

JO
Okay, I’m sorry.

She slowly opens the door.
Grabs the gun. WHIPS IT UP.

SHOOTS him. BANG. BANG. BANG.
He CLUTCHES his chest.

Stares at her in shock.
Falls over, HITS the pavement, THWUMP.

JO
That’s what you get for
disrespecting your elders.

EXT. FREEWAY - DAY
The hearse turns off at the next exit.
Goes down the ramp.

EXT. EAST LA - INTERSECTION - DAY
A REALLY shitty part of town.
Crumbling apartment blocks.

The hearse pulls into
an abandoned gas station.

INT. HEARSE - DAY
Jo slips the gun in her pocket.
Opens the car door.

EXT. ABANDONED GAS STATION - DAY
She gets out. Looks around.
Not a soul to be seen.

Sees a pay phone. Walks over to it.
Lifts the receiver. Listens. Dead.

SNEERING GANG-BANGER (O.C.)
Hey, lady. Where’s the funeral?

She turns, sees a pair of
THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD HISPANIC KIDS
holding switchblades.

They FLIP them open menacingly.

LAUGHING GANG-BANGER
Looks like someone got lost or somethin.’

SNEERING GANG-BANGER
What you doin’ in this neighborhood?
This is OUR territory.

JO
I had a -- little problem with the police.

LAUGHING GANG-BANGER
You hear DAT?
She had a little trouble with the five-oh?

SNEERING GANG-BANGER
Well, now you have a little trouble with US.
Give us your WALLET, bitch.

JO
(WHIPS OUT her gun)
The TROUBLE involved SHOOTING A COP.
Now get the FUCK out of my face
before I BLOW A HOLE in your REFRIED BRAINS.

SNEERING GANG-BANGER
Holy SHIT.
Don’t shoot, lady.

LAUGHING GANG-BANGER
Yo, chill.
We were just fuckin’ with ya --

JO
(CLICKS the safety)
Get your CHALUPAS the FUCK
out of my FACE. NOW.

They RUN. Jo watches them go.
Thinking. A light bulb POPS.

JO
Jack Cotton --

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