Yippee Kai-Yay, Motherfucker

Happy Thursday, crime slicksters. Feeling a little down? Mad as hell, and can't take it anymore? They why not get your ya-ya's out at the coolest joint in cyberspace, where the assassins are hot, and the semi-automatic weapons hotter ... at That Killing Feeling.

Onto today's blistering chunk of hardboiled pulp from LEGS. Better buckle your bra straps, ladies, and strap on your shoulder harnesses, boys, cause the going is about to get ... tough ...

When private eye Carrie Love and undercover interpol agent/dominatrix to the stars Felina Bella Donna turn the tables on demented snuff filmmaker Klaus Speer and his merry band of perverts ... with a little 'script revision' ...

INT. POLICE HEADQUARTERS - SQUAD ROOM - NIGHT

A clock on the wall reads 10:50.

Jesus Valentine and Robert O'Henry sit at their desks.

O'Henry works a crossword. Valentine pours a cup of java.

O'HENRY

I need a nine-letter word for "spy" that starts with the letter "o."

VALENTINE

I don't do that shit.

It's too much like a fucking test.

Valentine pulls out a flask.

Pours it in his coffee.

VALENTINE (CONT'D)

I say we go over there.

He said he'd be back by ten.

It's almost eleven.

O'HENRY

I'm more concerned about your little cocktail there, Valentine.

Can't wait ten minutes till you're off duty?

VALENTINE

Fuck you, man, it's Irish coffee.

(beat)

You should know, you're a fucking Mick.

O'HENRY

Don't fucking start with me, you refried wetback.

Go flee across the border or somethin.’

They stare at each other with utter contempt.

Valentine downs his cup. Gets up. Puts on his jacket.

VALENTINE

Well, I say there's an officer in trouble, and he needs back up.

O'HENRY

He brought back up.

VALENTINE

Yeah, right -- the dysfunctional family picnic.

(goes to the door, turns)

You coming or what?

He shakes his head. Valentine storms out.

O'Henry stares at the puzzle. Thinks. Eureka.

O'HENRY

Operative, that's it -- operative!

INT. KLAUS' PRODUCTION STUDIO - NIGHT

Felina commands the stage, twin weapons aloft.

Bernie, still on the cross. Now awake. Still gagged.

CARRIE (V.O.)

Somehow Felina had convinced Klaus to let her direct the show.

I don’t know what she was planning --

but I had a funny feeling it wasn’t a chick flick.

(beat)

It was the role of my life. Literally.

KLAUS (O.C.)

Cue the ambiance!

Billows of fog start rolling in.

KLAUS (O.C.) (CONT'D)

I’m too sexy for the music!

Creepy, German synth-pop music bubbles up.

SAMMS (O.C.)

Speed!

KLAUS

And -- action! Take two!

Felina SHOVES her weapon against Keko’s temple.

FELINA

Detective Keko, do you take Miss Love to be your ex-wife?

To honor and obey for the rest of eternity?

In death after life? For ever and ever?

Keko’s eyes bulge. He thrashes against his restraints.

Samms pushes Klaus on the dolly tracks.

KLAUS

grins like the murderous child he is.

KLAUS

She's a natural.

Carrie approaches the crucifix.

FELINA

And do you, Carrie Love, take Bernie Keko in unholy matrimony?

To go out in flames with him to the very gates of Hell?

CARRIE

Do I have a choice?

(off Felina’s glare)

Alright, alright. I do.

FELINA

By the power invested in me,

I now condemn you to be sentenced to --

Pause.

FELINA (CONT'D)

(whips gun toward Klaus)

Put your hands in the air, Speer.

There's been a little script revision.

(whips other gun at Samms)

You too, agent freak.

Klaus and Samms throw up their hands.

Jorel spins around.

JOREL

What the fuck?

FELINA

(to Carrie)

Here, kittie, kittie -- cover the evil prince.

She FLINGS a weapon to Carrie.

CARRIE

(CATCHES it)

For me? You shouldn't have.

(points it at Jorel)

On the floor, fat boy, or I'll shoot a rabbit out of your pants.

He gets down.

KLAUS

Felina, have you flipped your lid? What's going on?

I thought we were partners!

CARRIE

Shut the fuck up, you fucking headhunter!

You killed her! And now I've got you!

(clicks the safety)

Yippee-kai-yay, motherfucker.