Hasta La Vista, Incestual Units

Hey there, crime kids. Happy fucking HUMP DAY. 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.

Today we start a new story, never before seen on the blog. Some of you might be aware of my private detective Carrie Love, and have read about her exploits in WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, which was part three of a trilogy of connected stories about her. part two, LEGS (the feature, not the TV pilot of the same name), was written about fifteen years ago. A few years later, I decided I wanted to write more about this character, so I wrote a prequel entitled DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED. I finished it 2004, and even though it's not quite up to my current standard of writing, I still love it. (Those of you who read the TV pilot LEGS late last year are going to notice a few scenes I stole from this story. It's up to you to see if you remember which ones.)

So, without further ado, I present to you Chapter 1 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, where after a brief intro, we meet future under-aged serial killer Sparkle Plenty, who escapes from her trailer trash home, and heads for Hollywood ...


EXT. MULHOLLAND DRIVE - SCENIC VIEW - NIGHT

A swanky, deliriously kinky go-go groove --
My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult’s
THE INTERNATIONAL SIN SET.

The glittering panorama of
the San Fernando Valley twinkles below.
A big, silvery moon shines o’er the tackiness.

CARRIE LOVE (V.O.)
New York, New York --
the city so nice,
they named it twice.
The city that never sleeps.
But in Los Angeles,
people are in bed by nine.
And they only named it once.
Enough said?

A beat-up old PICKUP TRUCK
filled with MEXICAN GARDENERS
comes TEARING BY in a crunch of gravel.

CARRIE LOVE (V.O.)
Actually, the full name is
'El Pueblo de La Neustra Senora,
Reina de Los Angeles.
'The City of our Lady,
Queen of the Angels.'
No wonder they shortened it.
Ever take a close look at this
never-bustling metropolis?
Not exactly pure and chaste, huh.

A HUMVEE
comes into view.
The absurd vehicle slows, parks.

IN THE CAR
an ARROGANT HIPSTER (25)
and his GEN-Z GIRLFRIEND (21),
a whisper-thin young hottie
start making out.

CARRIE LOVE (V.O.)
Like the song says,
it’s a town without pity.
But that doesn’t stop the
millions of boys and girls
that come here with
stars in their eyes.
Almost none of them make it, of course --
but that doesn’t stop them;
those eager, fresh-scrubbed
teeming masses from the hinterlands
with visions of celebrity
dancing in their empty heads.

The couple starts getting hot and heavy.
Hands go to private places.

HOTTIE GIRLFRIEND
No, I told you -- NO!

ARROGANT HIPSTER
C’mon, Tifney --
I promise I’ll respect you and shit.

HOTTIE GIRLFRIEND
You expect me to jerk your stick
like some kinda sleazy cooz?

ARROGANT HIPSTER
Hey. I don’t get a happy ending --
you don’t get a happy ending.

Pause.

CARRIE LOVE (V.O.)
But our story starts far away
from this airbrushed mecca
of cigar-smoking goateed posers
and collagen-impaired faux-fatales --
in a tiny little berg
on the wrong side of the tracks.
(beat)
Except there’s no tracks,
and the one-mile stretch
of trailer homes makes a
good case for selective breeding.

A pistol CLICK-CLICKS.
The girl SCREAMS --

and gunshots POP-POP-POP.

CARRIE LOVE (V.O.)
Or maybe just a little ethnic cleansing.

INT. WHITE TRASH TRAILER - NIGHT
ROSCOE PLENTY, (40)
a strange-looking nerd,
watches a shitty little
black and white TV,
swills a bottle of cheap beer.

ROSCOE
(to someone off-screen)
C’mon honey,
you’re missing the big number.

ON TV
in glorious Technicolor,
SEVEN BRIDES FOR SEVEN BROTHERS.

A chorus line of grinning,
super-masculine Hollywood cowboys.

SEVEN BROTHERS (ON TV)
Bless your beoootiful hide --

INT. FILTHY KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
DOT PLENTY (33),
Roscoe’s repulsive wife
eats dog food out of the can.

Sips her jelly-jar zinfandel.
Belly-T reveals folds of pale
cottage-cheese.

‘Fat’ would be a compliment.

DOT
(sucking her fingers)
Fucking musicals.
Fucking faggot -- shit.
(to him, loud)
I’m gonna go check on Sparkle,
make sure she’s all clean!

IN THE LIVING ROOM
the drunk is riveted to the movie,
drinks his longneck.

INT. TRAILER BATHROOM - CONTINUOUS
A steaming shower runs.
A FEMALE FORM behind the glass --
sings off-key some weird disco hit.

IN THE HALLWAY
the happy molester squeezes by,
reaches the door. Smiles.

IN THE BATHROOM
the door opens.
In creeps lover-mom.

DOT
(throaty)
Does little Sparkle-ette
need help cleaning those --
hard-to-reach places?

EXT. TRAILER - CONTINUOUS
Steam drifts out the bathroom window.
A knapsack FLIES OUT.

Out pops SPARKLE PLENTY (16),
teased-hair K-Mart adorable.

Picture-pretty face.
What you call a ‘spinner.’


She JUMPS, lands on the ground.
Then runs, giggling.

IN THE BATHROOM
Coquettish, Dot opens the shower door --

DOT
Mmmmmm -- do I smell Soft Soap?

To reveal it’s empty.

A TAPE RECORDER
sits on the toilet.
The source of the singing.

A WINDOW SHADE
flaps against the open window.

IN THE LIVING ROOM
Roscoe sings along,
having the time of his life. BURP.

IN THE BATHROOM

DOT
Roscoe, Sparkle escaped! Again!

EXT. HILLSIDE - CONTINUOUS
Sparkle looks down on her nest from hell.
Holds a remote trigger box in dainty hands.

SPARKLE
(punches a button)
Hasta la vista, incestual units --

THE TRAILER
EXPLODES in a massive fireball.

SPARKLE (O.S.)
Cause this chick’s going to Hollywood.