A Clockwork Kinky

Happy Tuesday, 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 4 of LEGS, private eye Carrie Love gets hired by a new client, kinky sound man Michael Samms, who she doesn't know works on demented snuff filmmaker Klaus Speer's crew. Meanwhile, Klaus and his aide de camp Jorel Amin watch the flesh parade on Sunset Boulevard and plot their next shoot ...


INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY
The score from A CLOCKWORK ORANGE. LOUD.

A bland suburban living room
somewhere deep in the Valley.

MICHAEL SAMMS, (36) a piggy-eyed,
shifty slug of a man,
sits on the couch watching TV,
eating chips. Picking his foot.

We see on the coffee table
a stack of DVD’s, a box of Kleenex --
and a tube of lubricant.

A phone RINGS. He ignores it,
eyes glued to the screen.

ON TV
Malcolm MacDowell's eyes
are viciously held open with clamps.

INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Samms gets up, walks,
watching the screen.

SAMMS
Fucking Kubric. Fucking genius.

INT. SAMMS' KITCHEN - DAY
He listens to the answering machine.

KLAUS (O.C.)
Hello there, kinky sound man,
it's your fearless leader.
The shoot's on for tomorrow at eleven.
Be there or be square.
And don't forget
to call the female dick.
She's the next one.

EXT. SAMMS' DRIVEWAY - DUSK
Samms opens the mailbox,
pulls out a large manila envelope.

SAMMS
(kisses it)
Thank you, sweet baby Jesus.

EXT. CARRIE'S PATIO - DUSK
A sexy, Chris Isaak-kinda croon washes over --

Carrie. Resplendent on a chaise,
glorious in red lipstick,
shades and a killer bikini.
Her tiny cell phone chirps.

INT. SAMMS' KITCHEN - DUSK
Samms talks on the phone,
holds up a business card.

SAMMS
Yeah, hi -- is this
"Carrie Love, Private Investigations" -- uh --
(squints at the card)
"Fast, cheap and out of control?"

SPLIT SCREEN WITH:

EXT. CARRIE'S PATIO - CONTINUOUS
CARRIE
(on the phone)
That's me.

SAMMS
That's a strange way
to advertise your business.

CARRIE
It gets attention.
You called me,didn't you?
(beat)
You still there?

SAMMS
Uh, yeah -- I need you to find my wife.
She's been missing since this morning.
She went to have lunch with a friend,
and I haven't seen or heard from her since.
No phone call, no message, no nothing. Zip.
And she doesn't answer text messages.

CARRIE
Wow. That’s serious.

SAMMS
How much you charge?

CARRIE
Five hundred bucks a day.
Plus expenses.

SAMMS
But your slogan is
"fast, CHEAP --

CARRIE
Look, if you can't afford it,
then call the fucking cops.
But guess what --
they won't do jack shit
until a missing person
is missing twenty four hours.
For all you know,
your wife could be
lying in a ditch
with a bullet in her head --
and you're worried about chump change?

SAMMS
Hey, no need for you to get nasty.

CARRIE
Darling, nasty is what you need.
Right now, your wife could be
in the hands of a fucking psychopath.

Samms grins.

SAMMS
You take plastic?

EXT. CAFE TABLE - DUSK
A hand slaps a credit card on a restaurant bill.

CAMERA pulls back to reveal--

EXT. SUNSET BOULEVARD - THE COFFEE BEAN - PATIO - DAY
Sidewalk tables overflow with a hip, young crowd --
with a liberal sprinkling of Persian-trash.
Klaus and Jorel watch the flesh parade.

JOREL
That one, there.
Check out those legs.

A glossy, reed-thin MODEL TYPE
oozes by their table.

KLAUS
Her breasts are too small.
I like nice, big, boobs.
(beat)
So, did you read the treatment?

JOREL
Of course I did.
Are you fucking crazy?
The "Wheel of Misfortune?"
It's fucking ridiculous.
(lowers his shades)
And did you really think
you could get me to dress up
like Vanna White?

KLAUS
Vanna White?
Who said anything about Vanna White?
I want you to dress up like Idi Amin.

Pause.

JOREL
You have to keep bringing up
my father, don't you.