What The Fuck Are You Looking At?

As Elvis Costello once sang, 'Welcome to the working week.' And you know what that means, don't you? You betcha. It's time for another amazing chapter of that hardboiled/pulp story I like to call WILSHIRE BOULEVARD. So, strap yourself in, buckle up tight, and get ready for the ride of your life.

Screened a classic from the 70's last night, THE GAMBLER, featuring James Caan, along with a raft of classic actors including Jimmy Woods, Lauren Hutton (!) and a baby-faced Paul Sorvino. Terrific cautionary tale written by my man James Tobak about the perils of gambling. Not to give anything away, but I was squirming in my seat watching Caan fuck up his life betting all his money on losers -- several times. Terrific stuff. They just don't make 'em like that anymore ... Rent it if you've never seen it. A real classic.

Onto today's joint from WILSHIRE BOULEVARD today, and this one's a corker. The plot is heating up -- as Bernie and Aya are closing in on Carrie ... quite literally ...


INT./EXT. UNMARKED POLICE CAR - MOVING
The car cruises Speedway.
A narrow street just behind the Venice Boardwalk.
It passes BUMS, young HIPSTERS. SURFERS.
Bernie’s behind the wheel. Aya sips a designer coffee.

BERNIE --
and the bartender looks at the guy and says,
‘Hey. I was talking to the duck.’

Bernie ROARS with laughter.
Aya does a slow burn.

BERNIE (CONT’D)
C’mon, that’s funny.

AYA
You fucking sneak. I was driving.

BERNIE
Payback for stopping at Star-FUCKS.
How can you drink that shit?
It looks like a milk shake, not a COFFEE.

Bernie’s cell phone RINGS.
He pulls it out. Listens.

BERNIE (CONT’D)
Keko here --
(beat)
Holy shit.

AYA
What?

BERNIE
(to Aya)
Martune’s dead --
(listens)
We’ll be right there, chief --
(hangs up, to Aya)
Step on it, baby.
We’ve got another body.

AYA
(does a ‘take’)
You called me -- baby.

PUSH IN ON Bernie’s face.
In pain. Confused.

BERNIE
Don’t get used to it.

INT. VENICE MOTOR COURT HOTEL - ELEVATOR - AT THAT MOMENT
Carrie rides down. Pulls out her Glock. Checks the chamber.

EXT. VENICE MOTOR COURT HOTEL - CONTINUOUS
Bernie and Aya’s car pulls into the front entrance. Parks.

IN THE LOBBY
the elevator doors open.
Carrie walks out.
Then hears --

BERNIE (O.C.)
-- homicide detective Keko,
and this is detective Meir.
We’d like to see the register.

Carrie FREEZES in her tracks --

CARRIE
Shit.

Turns, and walks toward the garage exit.
Goes through a door.

AT THE FRONT DESK
Bernie and Aya look through the book.

BERNIE
Than Dong Ng, Werner and Hilda Schmidt,
Lucia Greco -- fucking United Nations.

The officious PIMPLY YOUNG CLERK (22) nods stiffly.

PIMPLY YOUNG CLERK
Well, Venice Beach IS a major vacation destination.

AYA
Do you have a photocopier?

PIMPLY YOUNG CLERK
Sorry. There’s a Kinko’s about a mile away, on Lincoln.

BERNIE
Fuck that --
(to Aya)
You stay here, write down all the names
going back the last twenty-four hours.
I’m gonna go scope out the parking garage.

AYA
Gee, thanks, officer.
You go prowl why I stay here
and do the secretarial work?
I think NOT.
(shoves the book at him)
YOU write down the names
while I go check out the garage --
(off his stare)
If she happens to be down there,
she WON’T recognize ME, GET it?

The clerk watches. Amused.

BERNIE
That’s -- a good idea.
(to the clerk)
What the fuck are you looking at?