I Hope They Have Hand Jobs In Hell

Greetings, hardboiled crime fans. Are you ready to get down and dirty? Ready for another deep, dark slab of film noir served hot as hell? Then get your ass over to the coolest joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.

Onto today's joint from A DISH BEST KILLED, where the shit has hit the proverbial fan. Now that D-movie starlet/femme fatale Haven Crayce's husband is dead, she must deal with the cops, and his doctor ... while her adulterous lesbian lover Jett Targo has to dispose of a certain dead midget ...

EXT. VIA MARINA DRIVE - NIGHT

It’s late. Only the occasional car.

An empty bus WHOOSHES by.

We see Jett on the sidewalk, carrying the gym bag.

CLOSE ON THE BAG --

as it leaks a red spot of BLOOD on the concrete.

EXT. CRAYCE HOUSEBOAT - ROOF DECK - AT THAT MOMENT

Haven talks on her cell phone. Paces frantically.

HAVEN

It’s my husband,

he fell off our boat into the water,

he was in insulin shock, and he --

(listens)

Tahiti Way. Slip 52, it’s a big, old houseboat.

Two and a half stories, brown.

(listens)

YES, he’s still in the water!

(listens)

But -- I can’t swim --

(listens)

Haven Crayce. My -- husband’s name is Dart, Dart Crayce!

(listens)

I was meditating, listening to music, and -- I heard a noise, and --

(listens)

Okay. Okay. Please hurry!

(listens)

Thanks, BYE!

Haven dials another number. Listens. Voice mail. Shit.

HAVEN (CONT’D)

Dr. Bing! It’s Haven! You have to come, quick,

Dart fell off the boat, and I don’t know what to do!

I called 911, but they’re not here yet,

and I don’t know how to swim --

BEEP.

HAVEN (CONT’D)

Okay --

She goes to the railing. Looks down.

HAVEN (CONT'D)

Goodbye, sucker. I hope they have hand jobs in hell.

EXT. JETT’S APARTMENT BUILDING - FRONT ENTRANCE

Jett stands on the stoop, fishes out her keys. Sees Rush’s.

A lightbulb pops. She smiles grimly, turns around.

DOWN THE STREET

Rush’s beat-up Volkswagon bug is parked at the end.

JETT

opens the trunk. Puts the bag in. SLAMS it shut.

JETT

Sorry, Rush. Just for a little while.

Until I can figure out what to do with it --

INT. CRAYCE HOUSEBOAT - DECK

Haven stands with Dr. Bing as EMS TECHNICIANS

carry Dart’s body in a bag on a gurney off the boat.

They watch, as Haven dabs her eyes with a handkerchief.

A YOUNG, LATINA COP takes Haven’s statement.

YOUNG, LATINA COP

Do you know why your husband fell in the water?

HAVEN

I don’t know. I was meditating, listening to my Ipod --

and I heard a noise, and came up on deck.

He was standing there, at the railing --

YOUNG, LATINA COP

What was he doing out there so late?

HAVEN

He was having -- an attack. Insulin shock.

YOUNG, LATINA COP

What from? Too much insulin?

HAVEN

No. Not enough --

YOUNG, LATINA COP

How did you know that?

HAVEN

I’m a -- I was a -- nurse.

His insulin pump -- wasn’t on.

YOUNG, LATINA COP

How could you tell?

HAVEN

It has this, blinking light, and it, it --

(a sob)

Wasn’t blinking.

She breaks down, crying.

Dr. Bing puts his arm around her.

Consoles her. Looks at the cop.

DR. BING

Will that be all, officer?

This woman is distraught over the loss of her husband.

I’d like her to get some rest.

The cop looks at Haven. Narrows her eyes.

YOUNG, LATINA COP

That’ll be all for now.

(hands Dr. Bing her card)

Call me if she remembers anything else.

The cop tips her cap. Walks away.

DR. BING

(leads her to the couch)

Come, my dear. Lie down.

I’ll give you something to help you get some sleep.

She gets on the couch. Curls up in the fetal position.

HAVEN

I’m afraid to fall asleep --

every time I close my eyes, I see --

him, in the water.

Dr. Bing pulls a large syringe from his bag. SQUIRTS it.

DR. BING

Not to worry. I’m going to give you something

that’ll make you sleep like the dead.

(gives injection)

I want you to count backwards from one-hundred.

HAVEN

One-hundred, ninety-nine --

(drowsy)

Ninety -- eight --

And she’s out. Dr. Bing watches her.

Fishes out the cops’ card. His cell phone.

Dials a number. Listens.

DR. BING

(reads off the card)

Hello, Officer -- Vargas?

It’s Dr. Bing Birmingham,

we just spoke with you --

(listens)

Yes, I do.

I’d like to have that insulin pump checked out.

See if it was defective.

(listens)

It’s already going to the lab? Excellent.

(listen)

You, too -- thanks.

He hangs up. Looks at Haven. Sleeping peacefully.

DR. BING (CONT’D)

I can’t put my finger on it,

but I think there’s something’s rotten in the state of Denmark.