Can't Live With 'Em, Can't Assassinate 'Em

Happy Friday, crime busters! It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side. A place where the drinks are cold, the chicks are hot, and the hardboiled action is non-stop, right here, at the coolest joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.

In today's chapter from NOWHERE GIRLS, black ops spook Honey Almond and FBI director Clint Ruff have a little phone conference -- while they're both having sex in their respective offices -- where Honey reveals that she set up agents Cherry Nation and April Street ...


INT. HONEY’S UNDERGROUND LAIR - OFFICE - NIGHT
Honey sits on the edge of the desk with her legs apart.
Monsterburg is inside her, pumping away.

HONEY
Damn, you’re good. Harder. HARDER.

MONSTERBURG
(goes faster)
Yes, MA’AM --

The phone RINGS. She picks it up.
He stops. Looks at her.

HONEY
Don’t STOP --
(into the phone)
This is Honey --

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. FBI HEADQUARTERS - CLINT RUFF’S OFFICE - AT THAT MOMENT
Clint sits at his desk. Sips a glass of scotch.
Faraway look in his eye. Red-faced.
Slowly nodding his head up and down.

CLINT
I just got a call from THE WHITE HOUSE.
I’m done pussy-footing around.
We’re bringing them DOWN.

HONEY
I wouldn’t do that if I were you --
(to Monsterburg)
God, YES --

He grins. Pumps furiously.

CLINT
I could give a FUCK about your threats, Missy.
All bets are off, as of NOW.
(beat)
What’s going on over there?
(beat)
Oh, god --

HONEY
I’m, I’m -- working out --
(GASPS)
Well, then I’m going to alert THE MEDIA
that the DIRECTOR OF THE FBI
likes to diddle MALE ESCORTS.
What do you think about THAT, HUH?
(beat)
Omigod, that’s good --

CLINT
FUCK YOU. How’s THAT?
I’m taking them DOWN, and YOU’RE NEXT.
(beat)
Oh, yeah -- god, yes --

HONEY
Well, for your information, ASSHOLE, I SET THEM UP.
They didn’t DO IT. The joke’s on YOU.
Who’s got egg on his face NOW?
(beat)
What are YOU doing?
Sounds like you’re having sex --

Clint ERUPTS in a massive ORGASM.
He lets out a war cry like a bull on steroids.

CLINT
YEAAAAAHHHH.

Pause.

HONEY
Ha. I knew it.
(looks at Monsterburg)
Oh, god YES. Right THERE --
(into the phone)
Hold on a sec --

Clint smiles. Shakes his head. Cups the phone.

CLINT
Okay, thanks. We’re done.
Money’s on the bureau.

A MALE ESCORT (19) pops out from under the desk.
Wipes his mouth with a kleenex.
Grabs a pile of cash. Hurries out.

CLINT
(into the phone)
You still there?

Honey lets out a blood-curdling YELP of animal PASSION.

HONEY
AHHHHHHHHH -- YEAHHHHHHH.

Her hips buckle. She shudders. Stops.

CLINT
Hey, you’re having sex, TOO --
(beat)
I mean -- shit --
(beat)
Fuck.

Honey smiles dreamily.
Monsterburg hops off her.
Goes to the bar, pours a drink.
Honey lights up a smoke.

HONEY
(into the phone)
You still there?

CLINT
Uh, yeah --
(beat)
Where were we?

HONEY
I was threatening you,
and you were telling me to ‘fuck off.’
And there was a ‘big reveal’ about Street and Nation --

CLINT
Right --
(beat)
Eat shit and DIE, bitch. You’re DEAD.

He BANGS the phone down. Sighs.
Takes a sip of scotch.

CLINT
Here goes nothing --
(dials another number, listens)
Sparks, it’s Ruff --

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. MAX’S SUV - MOVING - NIGHT
Max drives furiously, weaving through
the sparse traffic going toward them on the on-ramp.

Sunday touches her Bluetooth. Cocks her head.

SUNDAY
They got away, but we’re right behind them --

CLINT
Don’t arrest them. They didn’t do it.

SUNDAY
They didn’t DO IT?

MAX
Who didn’t do what?

CLINT
I can’t go into the details.
New intel, highest clearance.
(beat)
And you have a new target --
(clears throat)
Honey Almond.

SUNDAY
Wait a minute, you’re making my head spin --

MAX
What the fuck’s going ON?

SUNDAY
(to Max)
He’s telling us to lay off Street and Nation,
that they’re innocent --
(into the phone)
What does your ex-wife have to do with this?

CLINT
Like I said, new intel.
She’s behind the rogue op
at the White House and set them up.
Just follow them, and HELP THEM, got it?

SUNDAY
Got it.
(beat)
So they’re -- on their way to Almond’s joint.

CLINT
Yeah. You need to help them
bring down Almond ASAP, is that CLEAR?

SUNDAY
You mean -- kill her.

CLINT
On sight.
(beat)
That’ll be all.

He BANGS down the phone. Sighs. Sips his scotch.

CLINT
Women. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t assassinate ‘em.