Wednesday, June 28, 2017

The Crown


Happy Hump Day, 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 11 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, we flash back to Sparkle Plenty's childhood in the trailer park as a beauty pageant contestant ... and mother's sex object ...

INT. SPARKLE’S TRAILER - FLASHBACK - DAY
Title card reads SIX YEARS EARLIER.

Dot yells at Roscoe,
waves a receipt in his face.

DOT
Seven-eighty?
For a pack of smokes?

ROSCOE
We were celebratin, I won the
Camelot super-buck scratch-off.
Jimmy said Dunhills were the best.
Said the Rock smokes ‘em.

DOT
The Rock! The Fucking Rock?!
You and your dumb-ass loser friends!
No wonder we’re fuckin’ broke!

She grabs a saucepan off the stove.
Greasy food splatters.

ROSCOE
Hey -- be careful with that.

DOT
Let fuckin’ Jimmy fix yer supper!

She flings the pan at him.
He ducks, runs away -- as it
hits the wall with a CLANG,
food spraying everywhere.

ROSCOE (O.S.)
Fucking crazy, psycho cunt!

Dot chases after him, into --

INT. TRAILER - LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
But Roscoe’s gone.
The front door swings
open in the breeze.

Dot holds her head, the
sudden movement causing a reaction.

DOT
Whoa, head rush.
(sits on the couch, calls out)
Sparkle? You dressed yet?
Mommy wants to see her
little beauty queen.

Sparkle (10) appears as if by magic.
Painted, tarted up.

Very Jon-Benet.
Holding a tiara.

SPARKLE
(softly)
I hate it when you guys fight.

DOT
Never mind that.
Put on the crown.
I wanna see how it looks
on my pretty little princess.

She does. Looks like
she’s about to cry.

DOT
(beaming)
Now that’s my little lady.
Come over here and
sit on Mommy’s lap.

As if in a trance,
the little girl does. Trembling.

DOT
(strokes her hair)
That’s my little lady.
My pretty little girlie.
(hand on her thigh)
You ready for
the pageant tomorrow?
You been practicing
yer baton twirlin’?
(off her terrified nod)
That’s a good girl.
Such a good girl.
(hand goes up her dress)
My little lady.
My pretty little doll --

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