Hey there, crime kids. Happy Monday. 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.
In Chapter 23 of HIT & RUN HOLIDAY, fugitive screenwriter Friday Foster's tryst at the Chateau Marmont with the underaged Dolly comes to a violent end, after which Friday gets into a brutal fight with hotel security ...
INT. BUNGALOW 5 - MAIN ROOM - EARLY MORNING
Sunlight streams in through half-shuttered blinds.
The remains of the party are strewn across the room.
Friday sleeps like the dead
on the big, thrashed bed.
We hear soft crying OFF CAMERA.
It stops. Something BANGS.
Friday stirs. Awakens. Groggy.
FRIDAY
Who’s there?
The crying starts again.
We realize it’s DOLLY.
FRIDAY (CONT’D)
(sits up)
Who’s that?
(sees Dolly is gone)
Dolly?
She gets out of bed.
The sobbing gets louder.
FRIDAY (CONT’D)
(goes to the bathroom door)
Dolly, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry --
SPLIT SCREEN WITH:
INT. BUNGALOW 5 - BATHROOM - CONTINUOUS
Dolly sits in her bra and panties on the tile floor.
Cradling Friday’s chrome Magnum like, well -- her dolly.
DOLLY
You’re SORRY.
FRIDAY
Dolly, I wanted to make love to you,
but I just couldn’t -- I --
DOLLY
Because loving me is a crime?
FRIDAY
No -- well, yes, technically --
but that’s not what I mean --
you’re still a child, a young woman, a --
DOLLY
I’m not a CHILD!
(quietly)
I’ve been having sex for ten years.
She starts crying again.
Now big, heaving SOBS.
FRIDAY
Dolly, please open the door.
Let’s talk about this.
DOLLY
No! I’m done talking! I’m leaving!
(very softly)
Bella Legosi’s dead.
Puts the barrel of the gun in her mouth.
Closes her eyes.
IN THE BEDROOM
Friday listens at the door. Panicked.
FRIDAY
What are you gonna do, kill --
She realizes. HER GUN.
She races to the bedside.
Frantically rummages through her bag.
It’s GONE.
FRIDAY (CONT’D)
(runs to the door)
Dolly, no!
BANG.
Friday steps back.
Braces herself.
KICKS open the door.
DOLLY
lies on the floor next to the toilet.
Back of her head, brains, blood,
bits of skull all over the wall.
FRIDAY (CONT’D)
I’ve just been cluster-fucked.
She pries the gun out of Dolly’s hands.
RACES INTO --
THE LIVING ROOM
and DASHES over to the TV.
PUNCHES it on. LOUD.
Frantically surfs channels until --
An 80’s ACTION MOVIE spews MACHINE GUN FIRE.
Someone BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANGS
on the door.
FRIDAY (CONT’D)
Just a minute!
She composes herself.
Puts the gun in the small of her back.
Strides over to the door. To reveal --
A UNIFORMED SECURITY GUARD.
This guy makes Ving Rhames
look like a shrinking violet.
HUGE SECURITY GUARD
We had a report of gunshots --
coming from this room.
FRIDAY
Yeah. Chuck Norris
just took out the Iraqui government.
He glances at the TV.
HUGE SECURITY GUARD
Isn’t it a little early for action movies?
FRIDAY
I’m a casting agent, checking out Chuck.
HUGE SECURITY GUARD
Yeah, right. Chuck Norris.
FRIDAY
I didn’t say I was A-list.
HUGE SECURITY GUARD
(pulls out handcuffs)
Assume the position, bitch.
Friday walks backwards.
Toward where Dolly lies.
FRIDAY
I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.
HUGE SECURITY GUARD
(coming toward her)
What you got in the bathroom, girlie -- a body?
FRIDAY
Don’t come any closer,
I don’t want to hurt you.
HUGE SECURITY GUARD
Hurt ME?
He stops. LAUGHS. Shakes his head.
Unhooks his billy club.
HUGE SECURITY GUARD (CONT’D)
This is gonna be fun --
I haven’t used this on a bitch in a long --
Lightening fast,
Friday KICKS him in the jaw, CRACK.
He FLIES across the room,
SLAMS into the wall, THWUNK.
FRIDAY
Who you calling a BITCH?
Huge catches his breath.
Weaves a bit. Rubs his jaw.
HUGE SECURITY GUARD
Fucking cunt --
Friday shadowboxes,
dances on the balls of her feet.
FRIDAY
Hey, no use of the ‘C’ word.
That’s uncalled for.
He LUNGES for her.
SWINGING his stick.
Friday feints right, swerves left.
He CRACKS into the dresser.
Drawers go FLYING.
HUGE SECURITY GUARD
I’m gonna -- fuck you up.
Huge regains his balance.
Paws at the floor like a bull.
FRIDAY
Looks like you’re kinda
doing that to yourself.
He LUNGES, GRABS HER by the THROAT.
Friday GAGS.
He BANGS her head
against the wall, CRACK.
Friday struggles, kicks,
PUSHES his fingers backwards.
HUGE SECURITY GUARD
GAAAH --
Enraged, he PUNCHES her in the face, CRUNCH.
Friday FLIES backward, HITS the wall. OOF.
HUGE SECURITY GUARD (CONT’D)
Fucking CUNT.
FRIDAY
Great vocabulary.
Where’d you get your graduate degree?
He CHARGES her.
GRABS HER around the NECK.
SQUEEZES. HARD.
Friday fights for air.
Eyes BUG OUT, arms FLAILING.
She feels around, GRABS a lamp.
SMASHES IT on his head.
Huge swerves. Blinks.
Damn, this fucker is STRONG.
HUGE SECURITY GUARD
Fucking bitch. I’m gonna kill you.
FRIDAY
'Fucking cunt,' 'fucking bitch.'
That the best you can do, MANDINGO?
Huge RUSHES her.
She GRABS the bathroom door knob.
Just as he reaches her,
she steps to the side --
and SWINGS the door in his face, WHACK.
BANG. He crumples to the floor, THWUNK.
She grabs his ankles.
Drags him into the bathroom.
Quietly shuts the door.
FRIDAY (CONT’D)
Fucking asshole. Broke a nail.
Friday goes to the bed.
Stuffs her bag.
Grabs the briefcases.
Goes to the terrace doors.
FRIDAY (CONT'D)
Hope they don’t charge for early checkout --
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