To Protect And Kiss Pavement

It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where your darkest fantasies become sins of the flesh, right here, where the hardboiled action is non-stop, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.

As you've probably noticed by now, for a week or so I changed the format of the blog as an experiment. After my Facebook account was canceled, I tried posting a lot of what I did on there here -- and I gotta say, it was just too much damn work. Instead of just being able to quickly post something, I had to copy internet code, save it, post it, then open the blog again. Ug. And, not only that, but if people wanted to post comments, I had to first approve them, and then save and upload them. So, until the day I have a webmaster or an assistant, I'm going to return to the previous format -- nothing but the best in hardboiled-pulp-noir fiction, courtesy of yours truly. Thanks for understanding, and please visit my new Facebook page under the name 'Carrie Love' (how's that for an in-joke?), with the same avatar as before.

We now return to our usual programming ...

In Chapter 24 of FULL BODY, we return to the scene of the crime, where we're in the middle of a three-way chase scene, as Croatian crime boss Yuri Vlaovic is in hot pursuit of his ex-wife Mavra, who is chasing their daughter Etya, as they all race to The International, DC's premiere 'gentleman's spa,' and, very soon, also the scene of a bloody face-off ...


EXT. WASHINGTON, D.C. STREET CORNER - NIGHT
Mavra’s chopper turns, swerves.
Silke’s bike pulls alongside.

SILKE
This is wrong street!
Is eleventh street,
not seventeenth street!

MAVRA
What?

Distracted, Mavra doesn’t notice
an OIL SLICK on the street.

The bike turns, FLIPS, SKIDS,
CLATTERS against the pavement.

Mavra’s THROWN in the air like a rag doll.
BANGS into a storefront window.
EXPLODES in a million shards of glass.

Silke’s bike hits the oil,
FISHTAILS, PLOWS into a cafe.
Tables and patrons go FLYING.

The sidecar SEPARATES --
SHOOTS down the sidewalk,
BANGS off the curb into the street.

A CITY BUS
SLAMS into it with a ROAR. Gone.

MAVRA
picks herself up.
Brushes off broken glass.
Shakes a fist.

MAVRA
Idiot! My bike is RUINED!

Silke hobbles over.
Scraped. Bruised. Bleeding.

SILKE
I’m an idiot? YOU’RE an idiot!
Stupid bitch! Elvissa’s dead!
My daughter, my love, my everything!

MAVRA
Shut up! Time is wasting!
You can adopt, get new bride.
Like Woody Allen.

SILKE
Just go, alright?
I’ll catch up with you.
I -- need moment.

MAVRA
Moment? You have MINUTE.
And then get ass in gear,
I’m going to need backup.

He nods. She takes off on foot.

YURI
comes FLYING around the corner, just as --

A COWBOY COP ON HORSEBACK
comes galloping toward the ruined cafe.
He sees Yuri on the stolen police motorcycle.

COWBOY COP
You! Stop! Police!

Yuri WHIPS OUT his piece.
Takes aim.

COWBOY COP
Put down your weapon!

With lightening speed,
he pulls out his service revolver.
FIRES OFF a fusillade of shots --
BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG!

Yuri’s tires EXPLODE.
The bike FLIES out from under him.

He’s SLAMMED against a wall, OOF.
Lies dazed on the sidewalk.

The cop trots up. Stops.
Jumps off the horse. Takes aim.

COWBOY COP
Hands on your head, asshole.
(into his shoulder mike)
Officer requesting backup,
corner of Seventeenth and L.
(to Yuri)
Come on, up on your feet.

Yuri struggles.
Slowly, achingly stands.

COWBOY COP
(pulls out cuffs)
Hands behind you. Spread em.
And please, I’d really love it
if you gave me a reason
to blow your fucking
greaseball head to pieces.

YURI
Okay, okay. Relax, relax.
(turns around, low)
Greaseball is Mexican.
I am Croatian, asshole.

COP
(CLICKS cuff on left wrist)
WHAT did you say?

And, in a BLUR OF SPEED,
Yuri WHIPS the cuffs
in the air like nunchucks.

CRACKS the cop in the head.
BANG. He goes down.

Yuri shakes himself off.
Goes to the cop. Gets his keys.

YURI
(unlocks cuffs)
To protect and kiss pavement. Ha.
(looks at horse)
Hello, Horsie.
(climbs on)
Okay. Good horsie. Let’s go.

The horse turns around.
Looks at him.

YURI
What the fuck you looking at?

He KICKS the horse with this heels.
And they TAKE OFF.

EXT./INT. CHECKER CAB - MOVING - AT THAT MOMENT
Etya drives like a maniac.
Reaches an intersection.

The light turns RED.
She JAMS on the gas.

ETYA
(out the window)
Out of way! Look out, look out!

She sees a INDIAN HOTDOG VENDER
pulling a cart into the intersection.

She HITS the brakes, slows,
but she’s too late --
and SMACKS into it, BANG.

Hotdogs, buns, condiments
SPRAY into the air.

And the VENDOR -- who FLIPS UP --
And lands on the hood of the cab, SMACK.

He GRABS onto the windshield.
Screaming and cursing.

INDIAN VENDOR
Stupid fucking bitch!
You ruin my CART, motherfucker!

Etya STEPS ON IT.

ETYA
Fucking DOT-HEAD! I can’t SEE!

She SWERVES left, then right,
tries to shake him off.

Reaches the next intersection.
A CITY BUS goes by. Blocking the way.

She JAMS on the breaks.
The vendor goes FLYING over the car --

ETYA
(sings)
Say goodbye to Bollywood --

And CRASHES into a newsstand -- BANG.

ETYA
Say goodbye my bay-bee!

Steam rises from the hood.
The engine DIES with a COUGH.

ETYA
NOOOOOOO!

The INDIAN VENDOR appears in the window.
Battered and bloody.

INDIAN VENDOR
Instant karma, bitch.

ETYA
You!

Etya SUCKER-PUNCHES him, BANG.
Out like a light.

ETYA
I thought I smelled curry.