Viva La Revolution, Media Whores

Another 'hump day.' A day where all you 9-to-5 cubicle kids sit and dream about the weekend. Well, why not come with me to a place where you can forget your cares? Forget your asshole boss. Your cheating spouse. Where you can have That Killing Feeling ...

Screened a real winner last night. FROM HELL, starring Johnny Depp, Heather Graham, and Sir Ian Holm -- and directed by the Hughes brothers, taking a well-deserved break from the 'urban action' genre. I don't know why I didn't see it when it came out, cause this film was freaking awesome. Great, revisionist take on the Jack The Ripper legend. Depp is awesome, as usual, as an opium-smoking, absinthe-drinking police inspector. (Think he enjoyed the research much?) And Graham, wonderful as a whore. I don't want to give away any of the story, because it's that good. Just know that it's state-of-the art filmmaking, on location in the UK. Bloody, violent, scary, riveting stuff. See it if you haven't. Two big opium pipes up!

It's a big day, crime scenesters, because I'm unveiling a new story for ya. HIT & RUN HOLIDAY is based on my years working as a slave at New Line Cinema ... a place where they encouraged the employees to write screenplays. And sometimes they even bought them. But that turned out to be a myth, and I spent four years there trying to get my work readm without success. So, I wondered what would happen if a screenwriter GOT their big deal there ... and then had the rug ripped out from under them. What would they do?

Well, under the right set of circumstances, when the planets align in a certain way ...

They just might want to get revenge.

Enter Friday Foster. Disgruntled screenwriter. About to lose everything.

Who then goes on a vendetta ...


EXT. BEVERLY HILLS POLICE HEADQUARTERS - DAY
An airbrushed, glorious edifice to wealth.
To protect and spend.

Palm trees rustle in the breeze like the icons they are.
A bright, gorgeous, glistening day in paradise.

But right now it’s a MADHOUSE.
A throng of MEDIA, PAPARAZZI, SPECTATORS
behind police barricades clamor for a view.
COPS in riot gear PUSH them back.
A CHOPPER WHIRS overhead.

CROWD
Free Friday! Free Friday! Free Friday!

A GRIM, SHELLACKED REPORTER
takes position in front of a CREW.

CAMERAMAN focuses on her.
A STYLIST fixes her hair.

SHELLACKED REPORTER
(to the cameraman)
Hurry it the fuck up, Dex!
She’ll be here ANY MINUTE.

DEX
Take another med, Cherry.
We’ve got time.

CHERRY
(holds up I-pod)
Oh, yeah?

ON THE TINY SCREEN
we see shaky, hand-held footage.

A POLICE SUV winds its way
down Santa Monica Boulevard,
trailed by POLICE CRUISERS.
NEWS VANS.
A MOB on foot, running, shouting.

CHERRY’S
eyes BLAZE. Blood vessels about to burst.

CHERRY (CONT'D)
AZT got ‘em four blocks away!
This is MY FUCKING STORY. LET’S GO --

DEX
And -- ROLLING.

ON THE MONITOR
Cherry cocks her head. Wets her lips.

CHERRY
This is Cherry Blazer, Action Network News.
We’re here in front the tony environs
of Beverly Hills police headquarters,
where Friday Foster is about to arrive --

The SUV comes into view.
Slowly pushes through the crowd.
Pandemonium ERUPTS.
SCREAMING. SHOUTING. PUSHING.

CHERRY (CONT'D)
And you’re here with me on the scene! C’mon!

Cherry and the crew PUSH their way
through the crowd to the motorcade.
The rear door of the SUV FLIES OPEN.

Out steps --
FRIDAY FOSTER (27).
Pixie, choppy blonde.
Bruised and bloodied.
Smeared makeup.

Still quite cute.
Despite the manacles and restraints.
Tired eyes blink in the sunlight.

GREASY PONYTAILED PAPARAZZI
Friday, over HERE. Smile for ze CAMERA!

RUSSIAN PAPARAZZI (O.C.)
Friday, give smile!

EURO PAPARAZZI (O.C.)
Hey, Friday, bonus points if I pee my pants?

GAWKER (O.C.)
Friday is the new Britney!

CHERRY
(SHOVES microphone in her face)
Cherry Blazer, Action Network News!
Friday, how do you feel? Are you okay?
Have the police been mistreating you?

FRIDAY
(raises handcuffed wrists)
Viva la REVOLUTION, media WHORES!

EXT. VENICE ALLEY - TINY HOUSE - MORNING
Titles read ‘24 HOURS EARLIER.’
A tiny, wooden house behind a bungalow in the rear alley.
Tiny living room. Tinier bedroom. Kitchenette. Bathroomette.

INT. TINY HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Cozy but cramped. Movie posters. Scripts piled everywhere.

A lovely young WOMAN (27) sits on the couch with a LAPTOP.
We recognize her as FRIDAY FOSTER.
But she looks almost glamorous.

Her hair is long, a frosted light brunette.
Fetching in black capris and a tiny top.
Right now she’s deep in thought.
Smoking. Conjuring.

ON THE LAPTOP
we see what she’s working on --

FELINA
(aims her weapon)
So many men --

BANG! BANG! BANG!

FELINA (CONT'D)
So few bullets in a gun.

FRIDAY
smiles. Nice.
She takes a sip of coffee.

IN THE BATHROOM
A WOMAN is taking a shower.

Meet CARRIE LOVE (29), comely, fit.
Legs for days. And nights.
You’d never guess from those dangerous curves that she’s a cop.
Slippery when wet, indeed.
Right now she’s rubbing a loofah sponge in exciting places.
Intense. SCRUBBING like her life depended on it.

CARRIE
Fucking wax --

IN THE LIVING ROOM
the power CUTS OFF.

FRIDAY
Shit.

IN THE BATHROOM
the water STOPS.

CARRIE
HEY.

IN THE LIVING ROOM
Friday gets up.
Shouts toward the bathroom.

FRIDAY
Blew a fuse! Be right back!

Carrie comes into the room wrapped in a towel.
Covered in suds. Royally pissed.

CARRIE
What happened to the fucking water?!

FRIDAY
Don’t know. I’ll go check.
Keep your shirt on.

CARRIE
You’re a goddamn laugh riot.