Dead Weight

Happy Thursday, 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 24 of THE DISH, Jett weight trains a rich client at the beach, but when he has an accident with a barbell, he calls her a dyke, and things quickly turn deadly ...


EXT. BEACH CONDO - OUTDOOR PATIO - AT THAT MOMENT
Jett is training the Fat,
Sweating Venture Capitalist
we met earlier on the beach.

Fat lies on a bench under a barbell
ringed with weights clamped
in a cradle above him.

FAT, SWEATING VENTURE CAPITALIST
That looks like -- too much weight.

JETT
It’s only an extra ten pounds, Tyledge.
You told me you want to be ripped.

TYLEDGE
Yeah, I do.

JETT
Well, then -- let ‘er rip.
(beat)
Relax. I’m spotting you.
Just go nice and slow.

Fat looks up. Nods.
GRABS the barbell,
slowly lifts it up off the rack.
Straining and wheezing.

Jett’s cell phone VIBRATES
in her pocket.

She fishes it out.
It’s a text message.

TYLEDGE
(pushing, straining)
I, uh -- I can’t -- it’s,
it’s slipping --

But Jett is reading the message.
It’s from Rush. On his way.

JETT
(under her breath)
Shit.

TYLEDGE
HELP, it’s gonna --

The weight is too much for Tyledge,
his grip slips, and the barbell
SLAMS DOWN on his neck.

TYLEDGE
GAAAAAAA!

Jett WHIPS her head around.

JETT
FUCK!

She GRABS the barbell,
TOSSES it aside.

It CRASHES into a glass table,
SHATTERING it into a million pieces.

Tyledge GRABS his throat,
SCREAMS in pain.

TYLEDGE
Fucking bitch!
You trying to KILL me?

JETT
I’m sorry, I was -- on the phone --

TYLEDGE
Get the FUCK OUT OF HERE.
You’re FIRED, you HEAR ME?
(beat)
Fucking DYKE.

JETT
WHAT did you call me?

TYLEDGE
You heard me.
(ominous)
You’re gonna hear from my lawyer.
I’m gonna take you for
every cent you have.
(beat)
So, tell me.
Do you have to strap one on
to satisfy that little whore?

Jett rears back and
SUCKER-PUNCHES him under the chin,
sends him FLYING.

He SLAMS down, CRACKING
his head on the pavement.

JETT
Shit.

She feels his neck for a pulse.
Nothing. He’s DEAD.

JETT
NO.

Jett looks around. Nobody.
Everyone is at work.

She grabs Tyledge by the ankles,
drags him into the house.

IN THE LIVING ROOM
Jett pulls the large body
through the lux living room.

IN THE BASEMENT
She drags him down the stairs,
his body going THUNK, THUNK,
THUNK on each step.

Talk about ‘dead weight.’

They get to the bottom.
Jett looks around, sees --

A LARGE FREEZER
One of those industrial-sized ones
that lies horizontally.

JETT
drags Tyledge to the freezer.

Opens it. Sees a mountain of
steaks, chops and meat.
She starts pulling them out.

DISSOLVE TO:
Jett TOSSES meat packages
into the freezer, covering the body.

All we can see is his head.
She FLIPS one last steak in,
which covers his face.
SLAMS the lid closed.

JETT
That'll teach you to
call me a fucking DYKE --