Goodby, Ruby Tuesday ... will they every hang a noose on you? Are you looking for some cheap, sleazy thrills? Then you've come to the right place, hardboiled-pulp slicksters, where if you've got the crime, we've got the time ... at That Killing Feeling.Onto today's joint from LEGS, and this one's a real motherfucker.
Just as private eye Carrie Love escapes from the clutches of demented snuff filmmaker Klaus Speer, the lights go out, leaving the crime scene in complete chaos ..
Meanwhile, a cluster of spooks at the Pentagon decide to bring in the most dangerous agent in the history of the agency ...
Ladies and gentlemen, please meet ... The Bagger.
INT. KLAUS' PRODUCTION STUDIO - NIGHT
Carrie stands. Free of her ropes. Empowered. Emblazoned.
CARRIE
Prepare to DIE, motherfuckers!
The lights GO OUT.
IN THE DARK:
KLAUS (O.C.)
Nobody move! Felina, grab her.
FELINA (O.C.)
I've already got her.
JOREL (O.C.)
I told you we were using too much juice.
SAMMS (O.C.)
Hold on -- it’s just a fuse.
(stubs toe)
Ow! Shit!
INT. PENTAGON - BRIEFING ROOM - NIGHT
The spooks huddle.
BUREAU CHIEF
We have to get in there, now. Send someone else.
We have to apprehend Speer in the act.
WHITE LAB COAT AGENT
I need him alive -- for research.
ANGRY AGENT
We can’t send Lazenby.
He’s in deep cover with Bin Laden.
HIPSTER AGENT
What about MacNee?
Isn’t he done with that waterboarding school in Fallujah?
WHITE LAB COAT AGENT
I suggest we send -- the Bagger.
ANGRY AGENT
The Bagger? Are you fucking kidding?
HIPSTER AGENT
Have you been sampling the evidence again, Moore?
The agency hasn’t used him since Kennedy.
ANGRY AGENT
He's a time bomb waiting to go off.
Unreliable. Volatile. Completely insane.
The Bagger is the most twisted psychopath
to ever get a security clearance.
BUREAU CHIEF
And your point is?
INT. THE BAGGER'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
An achingly romantic Euro-croon over --
A small and dark lair.
A bare red light bulb glows from above.
Moonlight spills in through the blinds.
THE BAGGER (55), a tall, gangly,
preying mantis-like Ichabod Crane of a man.
Right now he’s making love with a WOMAN in bed.
Under the covers. Blonde hair spills over the pillow.
A phone RINGS once. He stops moving.
THE BAGGER
Fuck me.
It RINGS again. Silence.
THE BAGGER (CONT'D)
NO.
He WHIPS off the covers. GRABS the phone.
We now see his lover. An inflatable love doll.
Open mouth. Lipstick smeared.
THE BAGGER (CONT'D)
What the fuck do you want?
Do you know what fucking TIME it is?
(beat)
Name three celebrities the American public
doesn't know were assassinated?
(beat)
Fuck you! I'm retired, goddammit!
I'm having a nice quiet evening here with my woman,
minding my own business --
and you have the nerve to ask me to just forget everything?
You stripped me of --
(listens, gets excited)
Klaus Speer? That knucklehead.
I haven't seen him in years.
(beat)
I see. Just over the hill.
(beat)
I can do whatever the fuck I want,
as long as I bring him in alive?
The stick-figure does a little victory dance. Then stops.
THE BAGGER (CONT'D)
Oh, right. Let me see -- John Lennon --
Princess Diana -- and Sonny Bono.
He hangs up. Looks at the doll affectionately.
Leans over. Sticks his finger inside her.
Slowly pulls it out. Sucks it.
THE BAGGER (CONT'D)
I'm sorry, baby. Gotta go to work.
(takes her hand)
I'll be back before you know it.
Don't go anywhere, okay?
Keep the bed warm for me?
This just keeps getting cooler.
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