The Bitch Is Back

Happy Saturday, 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 20 of RIDGEWAY, Cate pulls a sneak attack on Kayla's abusive coworker Vivi and cuts her to shreds.


INT. DREAMLAND - DAY
Shitty Knickleback-like rock music
way too loud on the sound system.

The joint is deserted,
except for Vivi and Kayla.

KAYLA
Now that Cate’s living with me,
all my utilities went up.
I just can’t make it
on twenty-eight hours.

VIVI
I told you, we can’t
afford it right now.

Can’t Cate chip in?
Cate walks in. Hears them.
Hides behind a rack of fur coats.

KAYLA
She was, until her old landlord
put a lien on her bank account.
Now she’s broke.

VIVI
Why doesn’t she just sell
one of her screenplays?

KAYLA
It’s not that simple.
She spends several hours
every morning trying to
sell her stuff and
looking for writing jobs.
It’s hard work.

VIVI
Maybe she should get a real job.

KAYLA
You know there’s no jobs here
for someone with her experience.

VIVI
Maybe you shoulda thought of that
before you let her move in with you.

KAYLA
That’s none of your business.

VIVI
Excuse me?

KAYLA
You’re not my boss, Vivi.
Sula owns the store, not you,
so I suggest you back the fuck off
before I do something I might regret.

VIVI
Like what, hit me?
Just because that fat slug
slapped you around doesn’t mean --

KAYLA
Shut up.

VIVI
Been on the receiving end so long
you think you can dish it out?
Go ahead, hit me. I dare you.
(beat)
You don’t have the guts.
You’re weak. Pathetic.

Kayla’s bravado starts to crumble.
Her eyes well up.

VIVI
Oh, look. She’s gonna cry --

Tears start running down her cheeks.
She gasps, runs into the back room.

Cate goes to the door, locks it --
then makes a beeline toward
Vivi at the counter.

CATE
Ah, there she is.
The big, fat pig.
I’m surprised your ugly mug
don’t scare the customers away.
(sniffs)
I mean, the smell alone --

VIVI
What did you just call me?

CATE
Big. Fat. Pig.
(makes SNORTING noises)
But then, you’re a razorback, right?

VIVI
(raises a hand to hit her)
How DARE you --

Cate WHACKS it away.
SLAPS her face.
GRABS her collar.

CATE
Shut the fuck up and listen
to me, you fucking cunt.
I’ve had enough of your fucking with Kayla.
She comes home every night in tears
because of your steaming sack of shit.

VIVI
(tries to get free)
LET GO OF ME.
(beat)
The customers will see us.

CATE
One step ahead of you, chubbo.
I locked the fucking door.

VIVI
What do you WANT?

CATE
I want you to STOP FUCKING WITH KAYLA.

VIVI
Fuck you.

CATE
I know all about how you worked
your way into Sula’s graces,
doing her errands for her,
buying her fucking boxes of wine --
my god, boxes of wine, could you
people be any more of a cliche?

VIVI
How dare you --

CATE
How dare YOU.
Ordering Kayla around
like you’re her boss.
You were a fucking
SCHOOL CAFETERIA LUNCH LADY.
Kayla’s got TWENTY YEARS RETAIL EXPERIENCE.
It’s like Sarah Palin
telling Steven Hawking what to do.
Fucking ridiculous.

Vivi stares in disbelief.
Her bottom lip quivers.

CATE
Nobody’s ever called your bluff, huh?
(softly)
When I first met you, I thought you
had a certain kinda back woods,
redneck charm -- but now I see you
for what you really are.
A bloated, scared, angry bully.
(getting warmed up)
I know all about your sexting husband,
your unmarried pregnant daughter
and her waste of human flesh boyfriend.
Quite a life you got there.
(nasty)
Oh. But it’s okay.
Jesus will save you.

VIVI
What -- do you want?

CATE
I already told you,
you fat fucking cow.
Leave Kayla the fuck ALONE.
And if you try to get her fired,
your fat ass is grass.
I just got a job working for Big Boy,
and one word from me --
(off her look)
Be kinda hard to get around
with fucked-up kneecaps.

VIVI
How dare you threaten me.
I’m gonna call the cops.

CATE
Yeah, right.
I’m sure Londell would love that.
He’s heard all about your shit
and would love to see you twist
in the wind like crusty flypaper.
(off her silence)
Well, I’m glad we got that sorted out.
I’ll get out of your hair and let you
get back to selling overpriced trinkets.
(beat)
Like your shirt. Cute.
Does it come in something
smaller than a tent?