Faster Than Roman Polanski At A Slumber Party

Hey there, crime kids. It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where your most violent 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.

In Chapter 15 of LEGS, things really heat up when private eye Carrie Love gets a call from stripper Jonna James about murder suspect Dina Daerr's location, so as she heads over there, she calls her ex, homicide detective Bernie Keko at the Cheetah Lounge, interrupting his VIP room lap dance ...


EXT./INT. CARRIE’S PORSCHE - MOVING - NIGHT
Carrie’s behind the wheel.
The wind whipping her hair.

We see tears streaked on her face.
She lights a smoke.

The car stops at a light.
Carrie leans over.

Opens the glove compartment.
Pulls out a flask. Takes a hit.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Necessity is the mother of inebriation --

Her cell phone RINGS.
She answers it.

CARRIE
This is Carrie --

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. SHITTY MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
A crusty dive of a joint
on the wrong end of Hollywood Boulevard.

Jonna talks on her cell,
paces back and forth.

JONNA
Carrie, it’s me.

CARRIE
What’s up?
I thought you were gonna crash,
get some rest.

JONNA
DINA called me --

CARRIE
What the FUCK? Where is she?

JONNA
At a motel. I just got here.
She called me all freaked out,
didn’t know where to go,
found out the cops were looking for her.
Can you come over?
We’re at the Safari,
on Hollywood Boulevard,
room twelve --

CARRIE
I’m on my way.

JONNA
Have you found any leads yet?

CARRIE
Bernie’s over at
the Cheetah snooping around.
I’ll call and tell him the news.

JONNA
Super. See you soon. And hurry.

CARRIE
I’ll be there faster than
Roman Polanski at a slumber party.

She punches END.
Speed-dials another number.

CARRIE
(into the phone)
Bernie. It’s Legs. Pick up.

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. THE CHEETAH LOUNGE - VIP ROOM - NIGHT
A gaudy, over-done private room in the back.
Some weird, shitty Top-Forty song
blares on a boom box.

Bernie’s getting a VERY intimate
lap dance from a GORGEOUS ASIAN STRIPPER.

His phone RING-RINGS in his pocket.
He looks at it, eyes almost closed.
His face a rictus of ecstasy.

BERNIE
Shit --

RING-RING.

He puts his hand up.
Gently pushes the girl away.

BERNIE
I gotta get that. Hold on.
(pulls it out)
Sorry --
(into the phone)
Yeah?

CARRIE
It’s me. We’ve got Dina.

BERNIE
Really? Where?

CARRIE
She called Jonna.
She’s at a motel.
I’m on my way there now.
Did you find anything?

Bernie looks at the room,
the girl. Embarrassed.

BERNIE
Uh, not yet --

CARRIE
You were getting a lap dance,
weren’t you?

BERNIE
A lap dance?
Are you fucking KIDDING?
No way.

CARRIE
Nice try, Bernie.
I can practically smell
the cheap perfume over the phone.
Did you at least scope out the owner?

BERNIE
Of course I did.
Nice guy. Bit of a fag,
but he comped me for the night,
so I thought I’d hang out
and scope out the action.
It’s late, and I figured
we’d continue tomorrow --

CARRIE
Alright, alright.
Just stay put.
I’ll call you after
I talk to the devil doll.

BERNIE
Works for me --

CARRIE
Just try to keep it in your pants, okay?

BERNIE
Of course.

CARRIE
As if --

She CLICKS the phone shut.
Shakes her head.

CARRIE
So many men.
So few bullets in a gun --