Bad Lieutenant

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 4 of AFTERHOURS, it's a clusterfuck of epic proportions when the celebrities' drunken reverie gets interrupted by a pair of cops with guns covered in blood, who take the joint hostage ...


INT. AFTER HOURS CLUB - EARLY MORNING
The door buzzer RINGS again.

MIA
Angel, the door.

ANGEL
(over his shoulder)
Tell ‘em we’re closed.

They disappear. Mia shakes her head.
Walks over to the door.

MIA
Sorry. We’re closed.

ANGRY GUY (O.C.)
It’s an emergency. Open up.

MIA
We’re closed.

ANGRY GUY (O.C.)
I need help.
I’m bleeding.

MIA
Then call nine-one-one.

ANGRY GUY (O.C.)
I don’t have a phone.
PLEASE. I need your HELP.

Mia’s cell phone RINGS.
She looks. Answers it.

MIA
Hey, sis. What’s up?
Calling kinda late --

Distracted, she opens
the door, listening.

We hear WILD CHATTER
on her phone.

MIA
Mom had a STROKE?

Two BIG MEN BURST INTO THE ROOM.
The bigger guy holds
a sawed-off shotgun,
the other a chrome handgun
and a giant duffle bag.

Bigger Guy aims the shotgun
at the girls at the bar.

BIGGER GUY
Cell phones ON THE FLOOR, NOW.

Meet DANNY PEEL (40’s).
Would be a dead ringer
for George Clooney,
except you can tell
he parties too much.

Arm a bloody mess.
Eyes wild and desperate.
But still kinda hot.

DANNY
CELL PHONES. NOW.

He aims the shotgun at the ceiling.
FIRES. BANG. Plaster RAINS DOWN.

Mia SCREAMS. Bettie and Casey
TOSS their phones.

Sky and Easy TOSS theirs.
Mia DROPS hers.

ANGEL AND MICKEY
Appear in the doorway.

ANGEL
(low)
Holy shit.

MICKEY
(a whisper)
Ohmigod.

Smaller Guy, bleeding from the leg,
aims his gun at them.

SMALLER GUY
Glad you could join the party.
Toss your phones, NOW.

Meet VIN VARGAS (30’S),
your typical grunt cop
gone to seed.

Paunchy. Dark circles
under his eyes.
Sweating like crazy.

Eyes darting back and forth.
Pumped with adrenaline.

ANGEL
Okay, okay. Don’t shoot.

Angel and Mickey TOSS their phones.

DANNY
Okay. Everybody go sit at the bar.
(to Vin)
Smash ‘em.

VIN
You got it.

He drops the bag.
Starts CRUNCHING them
with his boot.

Sky, Easy, Angel and Mickey
move to the bar. Take stools.

DANNY
Okay, everybody.
We’re gonna be here a little while,
so I want you to get
nice and comfortable.
Do exactly what I say
and nobody gets hurt.
(off their terrified looks)
Just because I’m holding a gun
and covered in blood
doesn’t mean I’m not a nice guy --
so, in the interest of
all of us getting along,
the next round’s on me --