Don't Get Your G-String In A Bind

Happy Hump Day, crime humpsters! It's time once again to return to the scene of the crime, and take a one-way trip straight to hell, where your darkest desires become sins of the flesh ... at That Killing Feeling.

In today's chapter from NOWHERE GIRLS, Homeland Security agent April Street has just called her ex, black ops spook Simon Caine for help, as she's being pursued by evil assassins. But before Simon can come to her aid, he must take out a terrorist cell ...


EXT. HOUSING PROJECT - NIGHT
Simon and Brub stand on each side of the front door.
Raise their weapons. Simon looks over his shoulder.
Sees everyone is in position.
Speaks into the mike on his shoulder.

SIMON
One, two, three -- NOW.

Two COMMANDOS with a battering ram
SMASH it into the door.
It FLIES OPEN. They RACE IN.

INT. SHITTY APARTMENT - AT THAT MOMENT
A dimly-lit threadbare joint with piece-of-shit furniture.
Radical posters. Stacks of pizza boxes.

A dozen TERRORISTS sit around watching
some strange Middle Eastern film on a tiny black-and-white TV.

SKINNY TERRORIST
What was that?

UGLY TERRORIST
The front door.

SKINNY TERRORIST
Everyone, TAKE POSITION.

They race around. Grab their weapons.
Uzi-submachine guns. Pistols.
Pipe bombs. Dynamite. Grenades.

OUTSIDE THE BUILDING
Commandos in riot gear with shields
STAMPEDE into the building.

INSIDE THE BUILDING
Simon and Brub RACE up the stairs,
KICKING over trash cans and debris.
They reach the top. Turn and run down --

THE HALLWAY
They STOMP down the corridor. Get to the end.
Simon looks behind him. Sees the commandos
filling the hallway behind them.
He approaches the door. Raises his weapon.

SIMON
This is FBI.
Come out with your HANDS UP,
or we’ll BLOW YOUR FUCKING HUMPS OFF.

IN THE APARTMENT
A TERRORIST opens the window blinds.
Gets SHREDDED by machine-gun fire.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!

The other men look. SCREAM. Start firing at the door.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!

OUTSIDE IN THE CORRIDOR
Simon and Brub FIRE into the apartment.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!

They RACE into --

THE APARTMENT
Where they see A SUICIDE BOMBER
with dozens of EXPLOSIVES wrapped around his body.
Gripping a detonator for dear life.

SUICIDE BOMBER
(in Pakistani, with subtitles)
Praise ALLAH. Eat shit and DIE,
YANKEE MOTHERFUCKERS.

SIMON
WHIRLS around. YELLS at his men.

SIMON
SUICIDE BOMBER. MOVE IT!

And they all RUN away.
Simon goes to the window
at the end of the hall.
SMASHES it with his rifle.

IN THE APARTMENT
The terrorist HITS the button.

SUICIDE BOMBER
Seventy-five virgins, HERE I COME.

And the room EXPLODES in a MASSIVE FIREBALL.

OUTSIDE THE BUILDING
Simon JUMPS out the window.
Lands in a dumpster, BANG.
He closes the lid.

The fireball WHOOSHES out the window
as the building FLIES APART,
raining down wood, concrete, glass, body parts.

The dumpster is PICKED UP by the blast
and THROWN against the building next door -- BANG.

The rain slowly stops.
Pieces of burning wood lie on the ground.
Billowing smoke.

FBI techs starts searching
through the rubbish, looking for survivors.

The dumpster’s lid OPENS. Simon climbs out.
Bruised and battered, but okay.

He brushes himself off.
Fishes out his cell phone.
Dials a number. Puts it to his ear.

SIMON
April?

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. SERGE’S MOTOR HOME - BATHROOM - AT THAT MOMENT
April sits on the loo. Answers her cell.

APRIL
Simon. How’d it go?

SIMON
Great. Fuckers blew themselves up.
Saved us the trouble.
Speaking of trouble,
what the fuck have you gotten yourself into, April?

APRIL
They kidnapped my CHILDREN,
blew up my HOUSE, and then set us up --

SIMON
Holy shit. Are the kids okay?

APRIL
I DON’T KNOW.

SIMON
What’s your location?

APRIL
Venice.

SIMON
I’ll be there in fifteen.
(beat)
Be nice to see you again --

APRIL
Simon. I’m having a crisis here.
This is no time for flirting.

SIMON
Don’t get your g-string in a bind.
I’m on my way.

APRIL
HURRY.
(beat)
Thanks, bye.

She clicks her cell phone shut.
Simon closes his.
Puts it in his pocket. Smiles wistfully.

SIMON
Damn, she’s hot when she’s scared shitless --