Say It With Bullets

Gotta big surprise for ya. A new story. Welcome to WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, the sequel to DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED. Private eye Carrie Love gets sucked into her darkest case yet ... down, down into the bowels of Hollywood. Only this dream factory is a nightmare ...

So I've been serializing DAZED for a couple of weeks now, and it's kinda been bothering me. Not the story, just the fact that I've been posting something that's so old. I've written a lot since then, and think I've gotten a lot better. And, since this blog is getting read be more and more people (I think it's now over ten), as well as peeps in the movie biz, I'd like to put my best foot forward. Some of you go way back to April 1, when I started serializing GUN-WILD (and I think you both liked it), so I'd like to continue in that vein ...

Only high-quality noir/pulp/hardboiled material here, buster.

Don't worry. We'll get back to DAZED. Indulge me here. I'd like to get this one going also. Then maybe we'll go back and forth between them. Cause I think this one's really special. My manager says it's "Raymond Chandler meets Quentin Tarantino.' (He said it -- not me.)

So let's meet up with Carrie Love -- it's now a couple years later -- she was kicked off the police force, and is now a private eye.

And a hell of alot more ...

***

INT. DIVE CLUB - NIGHT

The greasy, chainsaw-psychobilly tattooed snarl

of The Horrorpops’ KISS KISS, KILL KILL bleeds over --

SLEAZY CLUB KIDS shaking it with abandon.

Strobes FLASH mirror balls in a kaleidoscope of color.

Lasers CRACKLE go-go dancers on pillars.

Hot STUD. Hotter BABE. Hottest T-GIRL.

Welcome to CLIT CLUB. Home of the free.

Land of the dazed.

CAMERA finds two HOT CHICKS

shaking it on the dancefloor.

The BRUNETTE (30’s) whirls her hair
like a headbanger on meth.

Runway model bod in a neon red rubber minidress.

Dances like she’s in ecstacy. Or crazy.

Maybe a little of both.

BRUNETTE (V.O.)

That’s me on the left.

The one dressed like a cherry popsicle.

What can I say. It’s a real turn-on.

Life’s too short, and you gotta grab

all the cheap, pervy thrills you can get.

The REDHEAD (20’s) writhes in synch with Brunette.

Slides her hands down her partner’s hips.

Eyes flashing. Shiny, perfect, heart-shaped face

beams with carnal desire.

She leans in. Kisses her. Hungry.

BRUNETTE (V.O.) (CONT'D)

That’s my girlfriend. Felina Bella Donna.

Met her on my last case.

Part-time dominatrix, full-time agent

for Her Majesty’s Secret Service.

A lethal cocktail of brains, beauty and bullets.

(beat)

Shaken, not slurred.

Brunette pulls back. Wicked grin.

Grabs Felina’s hand, pulls her toward the bar.

They sit. Grab their drinks.

BRUNETTE (CONT’D)

The name's Love. Carrie Love. I’m a private dick.

A chick for hire. You got the crime, I’ll do the time.

(beat)

For a price.

GUNSHOTS ring out. BANG. BANG. BANG.

Carrie WHIRLS around.

WHIPS OUT her gunmetal-blue 357 MAGNUM.

CARRIE (V.O.)

Oh, almost forgot.

(beat)

I carry a gun.

The music stops. PANDEMONIUM.

SCENESTERS race for the exit.

AT THE BACK BAR

A LARGE HISPANIC MAN has a

GORGEOUS BLACK GIRL by the throat.

SHOVES his gun in her crotch.

LARGE HISPANIC MAN

Fuckin’ BITCH. You fuckin’ TRICKED ME.

CARRIE

appears next to him.

Levels her piece against his head.

CARRIE

Put down the gun, Gazpacho. Nice and slow.

Or I splatter your refried brains all over

your Saturday night fever-dream.

The fat man looks at Carrie.

Lip quivering. About to cry.

CARRIE (CONT’D)

I said PUT -- THE GUN -- DOWN.

LARGE HISPANIC MAN

But, but --

CARRIE

But WHAT?

LARGE HISPANIC MAN

She, she -- tricked me.

CARRIE

Didn’t you know?

Half the cooze in this joint is for hire.

LARGE HISPANIC MAN

I, I -- thought she had a -- a dick.

CARRIE

(CLICKS the safety)

Aha, tranny chaser. Hey. No big deal.

Wait. Let me guess. But YOU’RE STRAIGHT?

The hulk deftly JAMS his piece into Carrie’s side.

LARGE HISPANIC MAN

Thas’ right, CUNT. Whattaya gonna do about it?

His head EXPLODES like something out of Cronenberg.

Carrie LEAPS back, covered in blood, brains.

DROPS her gun.

CARRIE

Fuck!

FELINA

stands across the now empty room.

Lowers her 357 Magnum.

FELINA

You okay, baby?

CARRIE

Yeah. You?

FELINA

(nods)

When it’s time to say goodbye --

(beat)

Say it with bullets.