White-Hot Heat

Gotta special surprise for you, hardboiled junkies. Since I finished GUN-WILD today, I'm posting the beginning of the final, climactic bank heist. Hold onto your debit cards, kids ... cause it's time for a little withdrawal of funds ...

Those of you who have been following the story know who's who, but for those that don't, just know that Rod and Cam are star-crossed, drug-addicted bank robbing lovers, who are now on the lam, and need to jack one final bank so they can flee the country.

And one new tidbit essential to know ... its just been revealed that Cam's father microchipped her like a dog. Seems the poor little baby kept trying to escape from his incestuous clutches. When she's being tracked, like some demented GPS from hell, she gets a jolt of white-hot heat in her neck ...

LET THE ROBBERY BEGIN.

***

INT. INTERSTATE BANK - MAIN LOBBY - AT THAT MOMENT

A small joint. Four teller windows. Two are empty.

FAT BANK MANAGER at a desk in the corner.

A single GUARD, a tall, thin older guy.

A handful of CUSTOMERS wait in line.

Cam and Rod BURST in the door. Shotguns aloft.

ROD

This is A ROBBERY!

CAM

Everybody on the floor, NOW!

The CUSTOMERS get down.

Crying. Whimpering.

Cam RACES over the teller windows.

SHOOTS the glass.

BANG. It SHATTERS.

The TELLERS scream.

CAM (CONT'D)

Put your hands in the air where I CAN SEE ‘EM.

They do. Trembling.

HOT BABE TELLER

Don’t shoot, don’t shoot.

MATRONLY WOMAN TELLER

Please don’t hurt us.

CAM

Do what I say, and no one will get hurt.

ROD

Points his gun at the guard.

Who’s wet his pants.

ROD

Gimmee your piece, Pops.

(takes it)

Looks like someone didn’t wear their Depends today.

(beat)

Get on the floor with the others,

and try not to get piss on ‘em.

The guard, shaking, walks over. Lays down.

CAM

THROWS a duffle bag at Hot Babe.

CAM

Start filling it up. No MARKED BILLS.

And no fucking DIE PACK,

we know all about that SHIT.

ROD

Points his gun at Fat Bank Manager.

ROD

You, Tons of Fun, go join your customers.

If you behave, we’ll serve a snack, later.

He nods, trembling. Goes to where they are.

Lays down.

OUTSIDE
Two BICYCLE COPS wait for the light across the street.

SMALL BICYCLE COP

That was a gun shot.

GAY BICYCLE COP

You sure?

SMALL BICYCLE COP

I know a fucking gun shot when I hear one.

(points)

Over there, at the bank.

GAY BICYCLE COP

Oooh. My first bank robbery.

SMALL BICYCLE COP

Glad I could break your cherry. Let’s go.

INT. FIRST INTERSTATE BANK - MAIN LOBBY

Cam watches the TELLERS fill the bag with money.

Rod keeps his gun trained on the customers on the floor,

and the guard.

CAM

C’mon, HURRY IT UP.

(holds her neck)

SHIT.

ROD

What’s wrong?

CAM

It’s ON AGAIN.

He’s ON HIS WAY.

ROD

Shit. Fuck. Piss. Motherfucker.

(beat)

GOD-DAMMIT.

CAM

(to the tellers)

HURRY THE FUCK UP!

MALE VOICE (O.C.)

POLICE! Drop your WEAPONS.

SHORT BICYCLE COP

Stands in the doorway.

Aiming his gun with two hands.

Rod WHIRLS AROUND --

and PUMPS A SHOT in his chest. BANG.

He FLIES out the door.

ROD

(looks at Cam)

He’s wearing bike shorts?

CAM

It’s WEST HOLLYWOOD.

OUTSIDE

Gay Bicycle Cop SHRIEKS into his cell phone.

GAY BICYCLE COP

They killed MY PARTNER.

Send BACK-UP, RIGHT AWAY.

It’s a, a -- BANK ROBBERY.

IN THE BANK

Cam GRABS the money.

Waves her gun at the Tellers.

CAM

Both of you, out here with the rest.

They walk out from behind.

Go the group on the floor.

ROD

(to Hot Babe)

Show me where the back entrance is.

HOT BABE TELLER

There is no -- back entrance.

ROD

All these podunk joints have a back door.

SHOW ME.

HOT BABE TELLER

I’m sorry, we don’t -- please don’t shoot me.

CAM

FUCK. What are we gonna do?

ROD

We’re gonna call the cops. Negotiate.

(to the customers)

Somebody give me their cell phone.

Everyone raises theirs. Rod chooses an I-phone

from the hand of a CHUBBY ASIAN KID (18).

ROD (CONT’D)

Look at this space-age shit.

(starts punching buttons, then)

Hello? Gimmee West Hollywood police headquarters.

(listens)

What’s MY BUSINESS?

How about I’ve got a BANK FULL OF HOSTAGES AT GUNPOINT?

(listens)

Sure. I’ll hold.

(looks at Cam)

Law enforcement ain’t what it used to be.