From Brassiere To Eternity

Happy Thursday, crime slicksters. It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where the girls are hot, the drinks are cold, and the hardboiled-pulp-noir action is non-stop, right here, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.

In Chapter 33 of NOWHERE GIRLS, after escaping from the FBI, framed Homeland Security agents Cherry Nation and April Street commandeer a Harley chopper and continue their getaway. Meanwhile, black ops spook Honey Almond and FBI Director Clint Ruff have a rather 'intimate' conference call ...

INT. MAX’S SUV - MOVING - AT THAT MOMENT
Max drives slowly in the shoulder.

SUNDAY
They’re fucking GONE.

MAX
Don’t worry. I saw them turn off
at that entrance up ahead.

SUNDAY
Then why don’t you MOVE IT?

MAX
Uh, I’m waiting for a break in the traffic?
Call me madcap, but I don’t want to get hit head-on.

SUNDAY
Wise-ass.

MAX
You love it.

SUNDAY
Shut up.

MAX
You’re BLUSHING.

SUNDAY
No, I’m not. Fuck you.

MAX
Yes you are. You’re fucking BLUSHING.
I love it.

SUNDAY
Shut the fuck up and drive the car --

He sees a break in the traffic.
HITS the gas. They ROAR into the road.
Max turns his head. Looks at her. Smiles.

MAX
I’m sorry. Adrenaline. You know.

Pause.
SUNDAY
I’ve got this joke --
I tell people I sleep with a guy
every ten years to remind myself
how much I prefer women.

MAX
And?

SUNDAY
You do the math --

EXT. CUL DE SAC - AT THAT MOMENT
April fools with a pair of wires
on the steering column of the Harley.

They SPARK. The engine ROARS to life.
April jumps on. Cherry gets on behind her.

A shotgun KA-CHINKS behind them.

A POT-BELLIED NASTY BIKER
Stands on his porch.
Aiming both barrels at them.

POT-BELLIED NASTY BIKER
What the FUCK do you CUNTS think you’re DOING?

Cherry FLIPS out her ID.
FLASHES it in his face.

CHERRY
Homeland Security.
We need to borrow your hog.
It’s a matter of national security.

POT-BELLIED NASTY BIKER
Wait a minute. I SEEN you before.

APRIL
It’s all lies. We’re innocent --

CHERRY
We were framed --

POT-BELLIED NASTY BIKER
Nah, not that shit on TV.
(points at Cherry)
You’re LA CIENEGA BOULEVARD, the PORN STAR.

CHERRY
I, uh -- retired from that.

POT-BELLIED NASTY BIKER
I KNOW. And ya broke my heart.
I got ALL your tapes.
(beat)
From Brassiere To Eternity --
(sighs)
You were THE BEST --

April and Cherry exchange glances.
Cherry gives her a wink.

CHERRY
Tell you what.
If I give you my autograph,
can we borrow your bike?
We PROMISE we’ll return it.
My kids have been kidnapped,
and we gotta go rescue them.

POT-BELLIED NASTY BIKER
Someone kidnapped yer KIDS?
I’ll help ya. Follow you in my truck.

Cherry looks at April. She shrugs.

APRIL
What the fuck. Sure.

CHERRY
You’re on.

APRIL
On second thought --

She PUNCHES him in the face, SMACK.
He goes down, THWUMP.
Out cold. They look at him.

APRIL (CONT’D)
Sorry about that.

CHERRY
Hope my fan club doesn’t find out --

INT. HONEY’S UNDERGROUND LAIR - OFFICE - AT THAT MOMENT
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.