You Look Good In Rubber

Happy Sunday, hardboiled crime fuckers. Do you know where your children are? Your parents? Your SPOUSE? Well, they're all right here, at the sleaziest joint in cyberspace, with hot and cold running sex and violence ... at That Killing Feeling.

Onto today's rip-roaring episode of LEGS, where not only the plot is heating up, it's positively steaming ...

Lipstick lesbian private eye Carrie Love, along with equistrienne patrolwoman Megan Paul, have gone undercover at Club Fuck, and fall into the clutches of demented snuff filmmaker Klaus Speer, and his trusted 'dominatrix to the stars', Felina Bella Donna.

Let the games begin ...

INT. CLUB FUCK - BACK BAR - NIGHT

A FAT MAN dressed only in shoes and socks,

a third sock on his organ, kneels at Felina's feet.

Klaus watches, snickers.

FAT MAN

Please, mistress, I've been a very, very bad boy.

I need to be punished.

FELINA

You fat, disgusting piece of shit.

I only do men for money.

FAT MAN

Yes, mistress, I'm a fat, disgusting piece of shit.

FELINA

(to Klaus)

I can't even insult this retard, it'll turn him on.

(to fat man)

Back to your cesspool, you fat fuck.

She PUSHES his face with a flourish.

Turns to Klaus.

KLAUS

That was so funny.

What a disgusting little turd.

FELINA

I'm sick of these fucking tourists.

Let's go check out the playroom.

INT. CLUB FUCK - DANCE FLOOR - CONTINUOUS

Carrie and Megan weave their way through the packed club.

MEGAN

Just remember, this is not a date.

CARRIE

Come on, I just wanted to get you in the mood.

(soaking it in, delighted)

Follow me.

INT. CLUB FUCK - PLAYROOM - CONTINUOUS

A perverse, trashy siren song undulates in the dark haze.

Plain brick walls and a scattering of tables and chairs.

The crowd mingles, sip drinks, like any cocktail party.

A YOUNG GIRL in panties and bra stands

on a small platform tied to a cross with dozens of intricate white cords.

Felina CRACKS a cat o' nine tails across the girl's pale,

bare skin. She quivers with astonished pleasure.

CARRIE AND MEGAN

watch. Carrie, wistful. Megan, disbelieving.

MEGAN

Nice crowd. Where's Rocky Horror?

I feel like I'm in a Roger Corman movie.

CARRIE

Hey, art imitates sex.

Welcome to the other side.

FELINA

delicately flogs the girl on the crotch.

The innocent GASPS.

She leans in, gently kisses her on the mouth.

MEGAN

I like this part.

CARRIE

(sees something)

Shit, there's my client. Fuck.

(pulls out a pair of masks)

Here, put this on.

They put them on.

MEGAN

I feel like Catwoman.

CARRIE

I feel like getting another drink.

Come on. We'll come back.

MEGAN

Lead the way, mistress.

CARRIE

Don't tempt me.

INT. CLUB FUCK - FRONT BAR - CONTINUOUS

Our detectives sit at the bar with fresh cocktails.

Carrie licks salt off the rim. Takes a long sip.

MEGAN

I gotta say, you can still put it away.

CARRIE

I'm a private dick -- comes with the territory.

Klaus oozes up alongside Carrie.

KLAUS

Well, what that a coincidence. I'm a public dick.

CARRIE

(eyes him coolly)

Sorry, this dick is only work-related.

(beat, lights a smoke)

No offense.

KLAUS

No offense taken. I like your style.

You're sharp, quick.

And you look good in rubber.

CARRIE

I like to think so.

(beat)

I kinda like your friend back there in the playroom.

Strong. Agile. Commanding.

Felina appears beside Klaus, leans on his shoulder.

KLAUS

Your ears must be burning, Mistress Bella Donna.

It seems this masked woman quite fancies you.

CARRIE

Pleased to meet you, Mistress Bella Donna.

The name's Cat.

FELINA

Please, call me Felina.

They shake.

FELINA (CONT'D)

Such a cute little kittie-cat.

Carrie blushes deeply, cheeks burning.

KLAUS

Perhaps you should take her back

to your place for a saucer of milk.

FELINA

I just might.

CARRIE

Actually, I'm here to, uh --

Felina licks her finger.

Rubs her nipple through the latex.

FELINA

Don't tell me you're lactose intolerant.