Happy Thursday, crime fiends. You say you're disgruntled? Angry at the world? Job got you down? Your wife left you? Lost your job? Then why not grab your favorite piece, vent a little ... and get your ass over to ... That Killing Feeling.Onto the exciting conclusion of HIT & RUN HOLIDAY ...
Where imprisoned screenwriter Friday Foster has her last brush with the media in the form of bickering news magazine editrixes ... which causes her to renounce her new-found celebrity ...
And then has her final moment with her former flame, Carrie Love.
SPINNING NEWSPAPER HEADLINES --
THE HOLLYWOOD REPORTER
REBEL CHICK HIT IN STICKS
VARIETY
FRIDAY’S NIGHT FLIGHT CLIMBS HEIGHTS
THE LA TIMES
AMERICAN OUTLAW NUMBER ONE WITH A BULLET
PEOPLE
FRIDAY’S SECRET LIFE
GUNS AND AMMO
THE BEST THIGH HOLSTER.
FRIDAY FOSTER PICTORIAL.
INT. JAIL CELL - DAY
Large, private. Tres outre. Giant Persian rug.
Lux furniture. Private bath. Plasma-screen.
Plants. Workout equipment.
With Friday is DIANE WALTERS (50’s),
glam doyenne of network reportage.
Beige face pulled back. Glacial smile.
She blinks, looks up from her notes.
Brow furrowed. Taps her pencil.
A CAMERA CREW shoots the action.
DIANE
(dramatic, pompous)
Do you have -- any regrets, Friday?
FRIDAY
Are you kidding?
I’ve got the number one show on TV.
A book deal. A biopic.
Two of my screenplays have been green-lit --
DIANE
But you’re in a Federal lockup --
FRIDAY
For what -- ten years?
I’ll get out in 5 to 6 for good behavior.
I can do that standing on my head.
(gestures)
This is not exactly the Hanoi Hilton, Diane.
DIANE
But what about your freedom, Friday.
Don’t you miss that?
FRIDAY
Freedom’s just another word for NOTHING.
When I was free, I was fucking BROKE.
Totally stressed out. Desperate. Creatively stymied.
And look at me now. I’m a media superstar.
Last time I looked, it was the American dream.
You're not anybody in America unless you're on TV.
DIANE
(quiet, intense)
So, Friday -- we’ve seen The Crying Game,
Priscilla, Queen of the Desert and Transamerica.
Tell me, how do you want your story told on the big screen?
How is your story -- different?
FRIDAY
What the fuck?
DIANE
Well, I imagine you’ve had a rough life.
Filled with -- pain.
FRIDAY
Why are you bringing THAT up?
We didn’t go over that in the pre-interview.
I’m not in PAIN. I’m in PRISON.
A FIGURE appears in the doorway. Livid.
It’s BARBARA SAWYER, (60’s) Diane’s rival.
Pulled back even tighter.
Rheumy eyes flicker fiercely.
Wizened claws in fists clenched tight.
BARBARA
Stop the fucking camera. This is MY interview!
DIANE
Barbara. Nice to see you.
We’re almost done. You can do the second interview.
(beat)
Nice blazer. Ross Dress For Less?
BARBARA
SECOND interview?! Now you listen to me,
you hagged-out sack of menstrual memories --
get your cottage cheese ass the FUCK outta here.
I booked this interview FIRST.
DIANE
But I’ve already got the footage, Babs.
Why don’t you go back to Hollywood.
I hear Lindsay Lohan is free.
Or at least, reasonable.
BARBARA
You fucking HACK.
Did you make her CRY yet?
Diane SMACKS Barbara in the face.
DIANE
Shut the fuck up, you OLD CRONE.
This is MY story!
BARBARA
(SLAP)
Dried up COLOSTOMY BAG, it’s MINE.
DIANE
(SLAP)
Oh, YEAH?
BARBARA
(SLAP)
YEAH.
DIANE
(SLAP)
WHORE.
BARBARA
(SLAP)
CUNT.
FRIDAY
LADIES, LADIES -- STOP IT.
Jesus fucking Christ, you’re PATHETIC.
Diane and Barbara WHIP their heads toward Friday.
FRIDAY (CONT'D)
(shakes her head)
Neither one of you is getting my story.
You’re parasites, leeches.
Look at you, clawing at each other like wild animals.
Get THE FUCK out of my cell, NOW.
BARBARA
How DARE YOU. We are THE MEDIA.
We CREATED you, and we can DESTROY you.
We eat arrogant little shits like you for BREAKFAST.
In the grand scheme of things, you mean NOTHING.
Nada. ZIP. You’re disposable, the FREAK of the day.
It’s about the JUICY STORY, not YOU.
Nobody cares about YOU. Nobody.
DIANE
You’re playing with fire, Missy --
and now you’re going to fucking BURN.
We’re gonna get ELLIOT SPITZER on your ass.
(to Barbara)
C’mon, let’s go check out Tiffney Chubbs’ place.
Maybe we can get a quote before she’s taken away on a gurney.
They scurry away. Muttering to themselves.
FRIDAY
What the fuck have I done?
I’ve become what I hate.
(beat)
Time for a major plot twist.
(goes to the bars)
GUARD.
INT. NEWS STUDIO - MOMENTS LATER
REBECCA DIAZ and JOHNNY MAX sit at the anchor desk.
Looking like someone died. Which in fact, is the case --
JOHNNY
We’ve just received a late-breaking bulletin --
REBECCA
In a sudden reversal of fortune,
Friday Foster has renounced her plush environs,
and has moved in with the general population --
JOHNNY
She’s declared a complete media blackout.
No press. No cameras. No interviews.
REBECCA
(gasps)
Oh, the humanity.
JOHNNY
Easy, Becca -- keep your chin up.
(into the camera)
The only thing Friday requested from the warden --
(dramatic)
Was a typewriter.
REBECCA
(face in her hands)
The horror --
JOHNNY
I, for one, can’t wait to read whatever the heck she’s writing.
(beat)
Next up, Mulholland Drive,
where pop princess Tiffney Chubbs
had a complete meltdown,
and attacked the paparazzi with a garden gnome --
INT. JAIL CELL - DAY
Friday sits on her bed. Typing on an old manual model.
Deep in thought. She lights a smoke. Stares off into space.
THE SHEET OF PAPER READS
Viva la REVOLUTION, media WHORES!
FRIDAY
smiles. Grim. Starts CLACK-CLACKING on the keys.
FEMALE VOICE (O.C.)
Friday.
She turns, looks, sees --
CARRIE. Standing in front of the bars.
FRIDAY
Carrie, what are you --
CARRIE
I just got out of the hospital.
A GUARD appears. OPENS the door.
GUARD
You’ve got ten minutes.
CARRIE
(hands him a wad of cash)
I owe you one.
GUARD
No shit.
He ambles away.
FRIDAY
It’s great to see you.
You look -- great.
CARRIE
Really? After six hours of surgery --
(beat)
I -- can’t play basketball for awhile.
FRIDAY
You don’t play basketball.
CARRIE
True. But I got reinstated.
Got a citation from the mayor.
Courage under fire.
FRIDAY
That’s great. I’ve got news, too.
Apparently some defense fund hired Gloria Alred,
who is moving for a mistrial,
something about a biased jury --
all the media attention --
CARRIE
Wow. Good luck with that.
The women stare at each other. Wheels turning.
CARRIE (CONT'D)
I’m sorry lost my temper.
I got -- scared. And the shower, the soap --
FRIDAY
I know. It’s okay. It was my fault.
CARRIE
Hey. I brought you something.
Carrie digs into her bag, pulls out a book. Hands it to her.
CARRIE (CONT'D)
So you don’t forget me.
FRIDAY
(reads the cover)
Bridget Jones Diary. Funny.
CARRIE
And this --
(hand her another book)
Is so you don’t forget you.
FRIDAY
(reads the cover)
The complete works of THE MARQUIS DE SADE.
Holy shit, THANK YOU.
They hug.
CARRIE
Just don’t get all Geoffrey Rush in Quills on me.
You’ve got a long writing career ahead of you,
and I don’t you smearing excrement all over it.
FRIDAY
Deal.
They pull apart. Friday chucks Carrie under the chin.
CARRIE
Baby, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.
Friday and Carrie stare deeply at each other. Misty-eyed.
FRIDAY
Yippee kai-yay, motherfucker.
And they BURST INTO LAUGHTER.
FADE TO BLACK
Ba da BOOOM!
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