Friday, June 30, 2017

My So-Called Fuck


Hey there, crime kids. Happy Friday. 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 12 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, divorced homicide cops Carrie Love and Bernie Keko examine evidence left behind at a murder scene in the form of an audiotape recorded by the killer ...


INT. POLICE PRECINCT - LIPSHITZ’S OFFICE - DAY
Carrie and Bernie sit
across from Larry at this desk.
They examine a stack of photos.

CARRIE
That’s a lot of catgut.
It’s as if the killer wanted
her to look like a doll.
What kind of sick fuck
does this to a ten-year-old?

KEKO
A perverted, pyscho-sexual
sick fuck, that’s who.
I studied this at the academy --
this kinda guy gets off on --

CARRIE
What makes you so sure it’s a guy?
(shoves photo in his face)
It’s obvious that this
is the work of a female.
Look at that stitching.

LIPSHITZ
(shouts)
Can it, you two -- people are dead!
This is the most horrific
crime wave in our city’s history --
these ‘reimaginations’ of
famous film fatalities
are the shame of our modern age,
a blight on our collective consciousness --
which we have to put to an end.
We must find this madman.
(beat)
Or madwoman.

CARRIE
Nice speech, Lare -- you
thinking of running for office?

LIPSHITZ
There was an audiocassette
left at the scene. Listen up.

He reaches around, punches
a button on his boom box.

SPARKLE (V.O.)
Ah-hem. Testing, testing.
Is this on?
(giggles)
Okay.
(beat)
‘Silence of the Lambs’
grossed 130 million in 1991,
and swept the Oscars.
Pretty good for a suspense-horror
flick about a cannibal, don’tcha think?
Buh-bye, Ghandi.
Not my underwear, Rain Main.
See ya later, Gladiator.
(beat)
Since this puppies’
been sequeled to death,
this stunning tableau is
from my original fan fiction.
So I posit this query to you,
my beloved audience -- what if
my man Hannibal had a little sister?
I call this installation ‘Hannah Lecter.
My so-called fuck.’
(beat)
For investor relations, a press kit,
or other inquiries,
please contact my manager,
Bruce Ball at Miracle Pictures --
where if it’s a good film,
it’s a miracle.

Larry punches it off.
Looks at Carrie and Bernie.

CARRIE
I love it when I’m right.

KEKO
The woman’s voice.
I’ve heard it before.

CARRIE
Me, too. Recently.

They exchange looks.

KEKO
We’ve got Ilona analyzing the tape.
The background noise indicates that
it was recorded above a nightclub.

CARRIE
Well, that narrows it down.
(beat)
What if I told you Ball’s not involved?
That miss Movie Phone is acting alone?

KEKO
Now that’s a stretch -- some chick killed
two dozen people all by herself?

LIPSHITZ
Can it with the misogyny, Bernie.
I need you two to go pick up Balls.
It’s all we’ve got to go on.

CARRIE
Ball. His name is Ball.

LIPSHITZ
I knew that.

CARRIE
(to Bernie)
Come one, former flame, let’s book.
We got a testicle to pick up.

KEKO
(motions)
Ladies first.

She regards him coolly.
Doesn’t move.

He shrugs, goes for the door.
Carrie follows.

LIPSHITZ
You’re just bringing
him in for questioning.
I don’t want any more
of your hijinks.

EXT. POLICE PRECINCT - PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS
Carrie and Bernie each
go to their cars,
parked side-by-side.

KEKO
We’ll take my car.

CARRIE
Sorry. Don’t do the
penis extension thing.
SUV-intolerant.

KEKO
You’re going to make this
as difficult as possible, huh.

CARRIE
Hey -- hijinks ensue.

No comments:

Post a Comment