The Package

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.

Some of you who are relatively new to the blog have only read the sequel NOWHERE GIRLS, which follows the original story NOWHERE GIRL, which I posted on here two years ago, so I figured it would be a good time to revisit this 'origin' story. This is the one that was going to be adapted into a graphic novel, but artist no. 2 recently flaked on me. But not to worry, kids. I've found a new artist -- also from Canada -- and we're now in discussions to move forward yet again. I'm told the third time is a charm, but we'll just have to see ...

Oh. And one technical note. When I post the daily blog, sometimes 'blogger' won't let me choose the picture I uploaded today on the Facebook link -- they only give me a choice between the last few, which in this case, are all horror girls from the last story. So, that's why you'll see a few posts before this one that are just a picture. Just so you know.

Enough hubub, bub. Let's ROCK.

In Chapter 1 of NOWHERE GIRL, we meet exotic dancer Cherry Nation, who has a unexpected encounter with a mysterious stranger at an airport bar ... and then we meet Homeland Security agent April Street, who's on a mad tear through the airport ...


INT. LOS ANGELES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - BAR - DUSK
One of those bland watering holes for travelers
who aren’t picky about ambiance. Or their cocktails.

A WOMAN (20’s) sits at a table near the windows,
watching the planes.

Unbelievably hot, with long, long black hair.
Reckless curves. Sleek. A gazelle.

Meet CHERRY NATION. Exotic dancer.
Former porn star. Future entrepreneur.
Single mother of two.

Right now she’s sipping a whiskey sour
and talking on her cell.
Tugs on her miniskirt.

CHERRY
Thanks for watching the kids for me, Shag.
I owe you one.
(listens)
The money is fucking AMAZING.
I’m getting close to having the amount
I need to quit dancing and open the store.
(listens)
Of course I’m taking my meds.
Mind your own business.
It’s OVER, Shag,
and you have no right to --
(listens)
I’ll call you when I get to Vegas.

She feels something
in the small of her back.

MALE VOICE (O.C.)
Don't move.
I have a gun pointed
at the base of your spine.

CHERRY
What the fuck?

MALE VOICE (O.C.)
Don't speak. Just listen.

CHERRY
But --

The gun CLICKS.
Camera PULLS BACK to reveal --

A TALL, UGLY THUG in shades and a trench coat
seated at the table behind her back.
He smiles. Not a pretty sight.

TALL, UGLY THUG
I don’t know what kind of game
you’re playing, girlie, and I don’t care.
Get off the fucking PHONE.

She clicks it shut.

TALL, UGLY THUG
Good girl. Now listen carefully.
The briefcase is next to your chair.

He FLIPS an envelope on her table.

TALL, UGLY THUG
Take this envelope.
In it, you’ll find an address.
Take the briefcase there. Got it?

CHERRY
Listen to me,
I think you’ve got the wrong --

TALL, UGLY THUG
If you don't deliver the package
by sunrise, we’ll kill you.
And your family.
(nudges her with the gun)
GOT it?

She nods. Frightened to death.

TALL, UGLY THUG
Lower your arm.
Put it near the case.

She does. We hear a SNAP, CLICK.

TALL, UGLY THUG
Good girl. Now you’re being smart.
I’m gonna leave now,
and you’re gonna keep
facing the window.
DO NOT MOVE. Understand?

CHERRY
Y-yes.

TALL, UGLY THUG
One last thing.
DO NOT open the briefcase.
If you do, you’ll die.
(beat)
Enjoy your cocktail.

He stands.
And in one fluid movement, he’s gone.

Cherry vibrates in her chair, shaking.
Blinking back tears.

She raises her hand.
We see she’s clutching the briefcase.

And that she’s been handcuffed to it.
She puts it back down.

A good-looking HIPSTER
slides into the chair next to her.

Studiously messy hair.
Five-hundred dollar torn jeans.

HIPSTER
These airport bars kinda suck,
don’tcha think?

INT. AIRPORT SECURITY CHECKPOINT - AT THAT MOMENT
A long line of weary TRAVELERS wait in line.
An ANGRY-LOOKING GUARD waves a metallic wand
across a FAT MAN’S suit.

The detector SHRIEKS.
Angry’s face lights up.

DOWN THE CORRIDOR
A WOMAN is SPRINTING toward us.

Meet APRIL STREET (20’s).
Eyes burning fire.

Tall and foxy, with legs for days.
Baby’s in black.

But how can she run so fast
in stiletto heels?

As she runs, she KNOCKS over shit.
PLOWS into a ELDERLY MAN.

APRIL
(British accent, over her shoulder)
Sorry! Government agent!

She gets closer.
We see she’s a dead ringer
for Cherry Nation.

Like sisters.
What’s going on here?

April RACES up to the checkpoint.
Flashes her ID.

APRIL
Homeland Security!
Outta THE WAY!

A open-mouthed guard
takes a look at the badge.
Fancy stuff.

OPEN-MOUTHED GUARD
Sure thing, uh --

APRIL
MOVE IT, Kojak.
This is a NATIONAL EMERGENCY --

And she KNOCKS HIM OVER
and RACES down the corridor.

INT. AIRPORT BAR - AT THAT MOMENT
Cherry looks at the Hipster.
Unsure of what to do.

CHERRY
I need your help.

HIPSTER
You in some kind of trouble?

Cherry raises her wrist.
Exposing the handcuffs and the case.

CHERRY
You might say that.

HIPSTER
Holy shit. Are you a --
(leans over, whispers)
A spy?

CHERRY
(lowers it)
Hell, no. I’m a dancer.
Some asshole just cuffed me
to this briefcase.
Said I needed to
deliver it to someone.
If I didn’t, he’d --
(tears up)
Kill my family.

HIPSTER
Holy shit.

CHERRY
You keep saying that.

Pause.

HIPSTER
I’m -- Peeler.

CHERRY
What?

PEELER
My name. Peeler. Peeler Mardo.

CHERRY
Oh. I’m Cherry.

PEELER
You certainly are.

CHERRY
Look, I need your help,
not your hitting on me, okay?
He threatened MY FAMILY.

PEELER
Okay, okay. I’m sorry.
I’m a guy.
(beat)
So where are you supposed
to deliver it?

The door FLIES OPEN.
April RACES into the room.

WHIRLS AROUND. Stops.
Holds up her badge.

APRIL
Homeland Security, everybody FREEZE!