Suzy Homemaker

Happy Friday, 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.

In Chapter 6 of Frankenstein In Love, we meet bland suburban couple Brub and Adelle Petrie, who are waiting for their teenage cheerleader daughter Shayla to come home for dinner after school, but what they don't know yet is that poor little Shayla was just killed in a hit-and-run accident, and is now in science genius nerd Frankie Stein's basement lab, about to be brought back to life ...


INT. SUBURBAN HOME - KITCHEN
Suzy Homemaker’s dream come true.
A riot of stainless steel and
off-white in the heart of suburbia.
Top Chef, ahoy.

A WOMAN (40’s), pert, smiling,
very attractive is studiously
cooking at the stove.

She tastes the sauce
with a wooden spoon.
Mmm. Delicious. Got Milf?

Meet ADELLE PETRIE, Shayla’s mom.
The perfect wife, mother, bookkeeper,
maid, chauffeur. You know the drill.

ADELLE
(calls into the next room)
Dinner’s almost ready, honey.
Did Shayla get home yet?
I didn’t hear her come in.

MALE VOICE (O.C.)
Not yet. You want me to
call her on her cell?

BRUB PETRIE (40’s),
Shayla’s father walks in.

Tall and fit, with rugged good-looks.
Right out of a Sears catalogue.

I mean, could this family be
more picture-perfect or what?

ADELLE
I’m sure she’ll be along in a sec.
She’s NEVER late for dinner.

BRUB
Gosh, honey.
That’s smells terrific.
Is that a new recipe?

ADELLE
How’d you guess?

BRUB
When it comes to your cooking,
I’ve got a nose for adventure.

ADELLE
Oh, YOU.
Do me a favor and set
the table for dinner?

BRUB
Of course, my love.
Anything for you.

They gaze at each other
with undying love.

Brub suddenly SHITS HIS PANTS
with a ROAR OF FLATULENCE.

ADELLE
(waves her hand in the air)
Jesus fucking Christ, Brub.
Get the fuck out of here,
you’re shitting up the KITCHEN.

BRUB
Don’t use that tone
with me, BETTY CROCKER.
You want the belt again?

ADELLE
Oh, go ahead, Mr. Macho.
Why don’t you just fucking HIT me?
I told you to wear fucking Depends,
but NO. Mr. Irritable Bowel Syndrome
just HAS to ruin his new Dockers.

Brub glowers.
Storms over to the doorway.
Over his shoulder.

BRUB
I’m going to take a shower,
and when I come back, dinner
BETTER be served. Capiche?

Adelle blinks.
Cocks her head.
Smiles brightly.

ADELLE
Sure thing, honey-bun.
Comin’ up in jiffy.