Tricks Are For Chicks

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 33 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, under-aged serial killer Sparkle Plenty spooks a would-be suitor at a trendy Hollywood nightclub. Meanwhile, homicide detective Bernie Keko busts his partner Jesus Valentine's balls about how he eats a banana ...


EXT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT
An ugly, gutteral-twisting techno groove --
Curve’s violent, feminine WISH YOU DEAD.

Pain. Hollywood’s glittering club-of-the-moment.
Celeb-filled. Self-conscious. Fabulous.

A cluster of TRENDIES lay in wait
behind the velvet rope.

INT. PAIN - BAR - CONTINUOUS
Sparkle sits on a bar stool,
sips a chilled Twisted Nipple.

SPARKLE (V.O.)
Okay, here’s the thing.
I’m gonna spell it out for ya.
No subtext here,
just the straight poop.
Ready on the poop deck!

A DOLCE AND GABANNA SUIT
slides onto the next stool.

DOLCE AND GABANNA SUIT
Hi, there.

SPARKLE
What’s the hub-bub, bub?

The MBA stares, confused --
then recovers.

DOLCE AND GABANNA SUIT
40’s noir. Love it.
You must be a writer.

SPARKLE
As if. What-ever. Gag me.
Your bad. We must not do lunch.
Have your people tell my people
to shove it up your ass.
Buh-bye. Bigger, better offer.
(sips drink, off his look)
'Tex' Avery, 1950’s.
Cartoons, big fella.
Big fucking Bugs Bunny -- whassup, doc.
Silly rabbit, tricks are for chicks.

Pause.

DOLCE AND GABANNA SUIT
Uh -- right.
(pulls out prescription bottle,
hands it to her)
Here. Take a couple of these.
They’ll level you out.

He leaves, muttering to himself.

SPARKLE
(sings)
Your love is giving me bad medicine --

She sips her cocktail.
Lights a Dunhill.
Laughs to herself.

SPARKLE (V.O.)(CONT'D)
Kay. Gonna smash all
your precious little myths.
Yes, my dad was a closet case
that drowned himself in
Iron City beer and Broadway musicals --
and yes, my dear, sweet mama
finger-fucked her precious
little beauty pageant prisoner.
(beat)
But that’s not why
I’m doing this -- no way, Jose.
This chick’s not into it for some
kind of emotionally scarred
payback kinda thing.
This ain’t no party,
this ain’t no disco,
this ain’t no fooling around.
It’s just -- fun. It’s a high.
Better than coming.
(beat)
C’mon, admit it.
You’ve got someone in your life
you’d like to do bodily harm to,
maybe even kill.
Your neighbor, someone at work.
Maybe, if you’re really
blessed, an ex-lover?
Or, if you’ve been chosen,
found your calling -- a relative.
(beat)
Yeah, that’s a good one.
Blow em up. Imagine how great
it feels to totally obliterate
the demented creators
of your misery and pain.
It’s like having a big bowl
of instant karma,
served with mother’s milk --
and Daddy’s banana.

EXT./INT. UNDERCOVER VEHICLE - MOVING - NIGHT
Bernie drives.
Jesus Valentine rides shotgun.
Eats a banana. Slowly. With relish.

KEKO
(looks at Jesus)
You’re enjoying that way too much.

VALENTINE
(mouth full)
Huh?

KEKO
It’s like you’re going down
on that fucking thing.

VALENTINE
Fuck you, fuckin’ homophobe.
I like to -- savor it.

KEKO
SAVOR it?

VALENTINE
Just because you have
a shitty vocabulary,
don’t get testy with me.