The Days Of Wine And Handcuffs

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 Episode 2 of HIT & RUN HOLIDAY, unemployed screenwriter Friday Foster's life is falling apart. Her heat, water and phone get shut off. Her bank account is overdrawn, and her landlord is evicting her. And, to make matters worse, her car just got repossessed ...


EXT. TINY HOUSE - ALLEY - DAY
Friday walks around the side of the house.
Sees a GRINNING DWP TECHNICIAN
and a SURLY GAS COMPANY GUY.

Grinning holds a large wrench.
Surly examines his clipboard.

FRIDAY
What the fuck is going on?

GRINNING DWP TECHNICIAN
No pay bill-ey, no juice-ey.

FRIDAY
But I, I --

SURLY GAS COMPANY GUY
No cash, no gash.
Lucky for you it’s not winter.

FRIDAY
Wait, wait. I’ll give you some money --

GRINNING DWP TECHNICIAN
Sorry.

SURLY GAS COMPANY GUY
Tell you what you CAN give us --

Surly GRABS his crotch.

GRINNING DWP TECHNICIAN
Yeah, how ‘bout it? You an’ me --

FRIDAY
Get the fuck OUT OF HERE! ASSHOLES!

They saunter off. Whistling.
Snickering. Carrie fumes.
Heads back around to the front where --

She sees Manny McClugg (70’s).
Tall, whisper-thin. Bulging eyes.
Matted hair like white flakes on his misshapen head.

The LANDLORD.

FRIDAY
Manny.

MANNY
Hello, Friday. I’m sorry,
but if I don’t have the rent by tomorrow,
you have to leave. I’m tired of waiting.
You’re four months late.
I can’t carry you any more.

FRIDAY
But, Manny, like I told you, I’ve got a --

MANNY
I’ve had enough of your stories, Friday.
That’s it. I’ve had it. You have until tomorrow.
(weird smile)
Until then.

And he slithers away.

FRIDAY
Stupid old fuck.

She goes to the letter box.
Grabs her mail.

INSIDE THE HOUSE
Friday sits on the couch,
FLIPS through envelopes.
RIPS them open, one by one --

A BILL
from the phone company.
HOW TO RECONNECT YOUR SERVICE.

A SUMMONS
reads NOTICE OF EVICTION.

A BANK SLIP
in red letters. OVERDRAWN ACCOUNT.

A MOVIE STUDIO
letter reads ‘Screenplay ... rejected ... ‘

AN EMPLOYMENT AGENCY
letter reads ‘Position terminated.’

A LETTER HOME
with a hand-written scrawl. ADDRESSEE UNKNOWN.

FRIDAY
whimpers.
THROWS the letter in the air like confetti.
Carrie walks in. Dressed.

FRIDAY
Where are you going?
What about breakfast?

CARRIE
I’m covered in soap.
I’m going home to take a real shower.

FRIDAY
Please don’t go. Everything is --

CARRIE
Everything is WHAT.

FRIDAY
Fucked up. Everything is -- fucked up.
My water and power got shut off --

CARRIE
Great time to quit your job --

FRIDAY
I told you, it was HELL.
That little fuck worked me to the BONE.
I couldn’t take it any more.
Please stay. Please.

CARRIE
Stay? For WHAT? More TORTURE?
You fucking you TIED ME to the bed,
dripped CANDLE WAX on my boobs --

FRIDAY
I got -- carried away, okay?
We were just playing --

CARRIE
Playing? Playing WHAT? 'Guantanamo baby?'

FRIDAY
Silk scarves, Carrie.
They were SILK SCARVES.
I’d never hurt you.

CARRIE
HURT ME, How about making me COME?
I never fucking CAME,
because YOU were fucking JACK DANIELS,
and then PASSED OUT.

FRIDAY
I had a couple of COCKTAILS, okay?
We BOTH did, talk about
the pot calling the kettle --

CARRIE
The DIFFERENCE is, I can HOLD my liquor,
so I don’t fucking PASS OUT while I’m FUCKING.

FRIDAY
After -- what happened at White Line,
I haven’t -- been myself.

CARRIE
Excuses, excuses.
That was weeks ago.
I just got SUSPENDED,
but you don’t see ME living
The Days of Wine and Handcuffs.
(goes to the door)
Later. Much.

And she’s gone.

FRIDAY
NO!

Friday RACES out the door to --

THE BACK ALLEY
but Carrie’s gone. Friday grimaces.
Squeezes her eyes shut.
A car motor ROARS to life.

FRIDAY
My car?

She turns, RUNS around to --

THE DRIVEWAY
where a 1971 Dodge Dart Swinger sits idling.
A BEEFY ASIAN GUY sits behind the wheel.
GUNNING the engine.

FRIDAY
(knocks on the window)
Hey! That’s MY CAR.
What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?

The window slides down a couple inches.

BEEFY ASIAN GUY
It’s the bank’s car now.

FRIDAY
But I sent my last payment --
listen, you gotta help me,
I put a three thousand dollar
sound system in there --

BEEFY ASIAN GUY
(shifts the car into gear)
Material possessions are not the answer.
(beat)
Later, grasshopper --