'That Thing' In Oklahoma City

Happy hump day, crime humpsters. Are you ready for hardboiled pulp mayhem? Hot chicks with semi-automatic weapons? Totally depraved villians? Well, then if you've got the time, we've got the crime ... at That Killing Feeling.

Onto today's joint from LEGS, where the story takes a bit of a breather, when private eye Carrie Love and black ops Interpol agent Felina Bella Donna meet with 'B' at her safe house, and plot how to take down demented snuff filmmaker Klaus Speer ... and insane CIA spook The Bagger ...

INT. HOLLYWOOD HILLS MANSION - NIGHT

Edgar leads Carrie and Felina down a long, long corridor.

CARRIE

This place is amazing.

And the government pays for it?

FELINA

Of course not, darling.

B has a great cover. He's rolling in it.

CARRIE

Don't tell me -- he's a lawyer?

FELINA

I'm afraid it's worse.

(beat)

He's an agent.

INT. B'S DEN - NIGHT

Very manly, very aristocrat. Coat of arms, the works.

Straight out of Masterpiece Theatre.

B, (55), a tanned, Brit Bob Evans type,

rushes to greet Felina. Beaming. They hug.

B

Felina, darling. Such a pleasure.

You look divine, as usual.

FELINA

It's been too long, B.

When was the last time I saw you --

that thing in Oklahoma City?

B

Felina. How could you forget the fun we had in Brentwood.

FELINA

Of course, the double murder -- the football player.

B turns his attention to Carrie. Drinks her in.

B

Ah-ha. And this must be the detective, Miss Carrie Love.

He takes her hand. Kisses it, elegant.

CARRIE

You make me blush. Felina warned me about you.

Your reputation is only exceeded by your charm.

B

And your charm is only exceeded by your -- legs.

EXT. LIMOUSINE - NIGHT

A mini-skirted pair of legs slide out the rear of a limo.

EXT. QUEENS ROAD - NIGHT

Valentine's car roars by the limo. The gams SHOOT back in.

INSIDE THE CAR

a WOMAN lays on the lap of a grey-haired SUIT.

WOMAN

Walter. Really.

INT./EXT. - VALENTINE’S CAR - CONTINUOUS

Valentine punches the gas. Climbs a winding road uphill.

VALENTINE

Fuckin' Hollywood.

INT. B'S DEN - NIGHT

A fireplace crackles. Edgar pours champagne.

Carrie and Felina sit on the sofa in matching black leather catsuits.

B

Well, this would normally be the scene

where I fill you in on the villain's back story,

his motivation -- fill in all the holes in the plot.

Exposition, if you will.

Carrie's eyes shine.

B

But I'm afraid I can’t do that, my dear.

She's crestfallen.

B

I don't know what the fuck is going on.

FELINA

(to Carrie)

It's safer if he doesn't know anything.

He's here for safety, support --

and really cool weapons.

B

At your service.

CARRIE

Not to mention really severe evening wear.

Don't get me wrong, it's a fab Gautier knock-off --

but it feels like a lead suit.

B

That's because it is.

From what Felina has told me

about your date for the evening,

this would seem to fit the dress code.

FELINA

And now it's a double date.

B’s eyes dart a question.

CARRIE

Klaus Speer -- and the Bagger.

His champagne glass flies out of hand. CRASH.

B

Th-the Bagger?!

CARRIE

Yeah, the hit man. You know him?

B turns white. Felina looks at Carrie.

FELINA

Poor Norman.

He was responsible for the Twentieth Century’s Greatest Hits --

but other people always got the credit.

Lee Harvey Oswald, Sirhan Sirhan, James Earl Ray --

EXT. KLAUS’ ESTATE - POOL - NIGHT

Klaus lies on a chaise poolside. Drugged. Dead to the world.

A large packing of gauze at this crotch swells his waistband.

The Bagger holds up his prize in the moonlight.

THE BAGGER

And you wanted to be a stewardess.

CINDY

Makes a nice coin purse.

Rub it and it becomes a steamer trunk.

He pops it in his mouth. Chews.

THE BAGGER

Mmm. Salty.