Fucked-Up Fun

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 18 of HIT & RUN HOLIDAY, fugitive screenwriter Friday Foster gets her kinky groove on at Club Fuck, where she meets a little 'Dolly' to play with ... but little does she know that mercenary-for-hire Bland Loosener has followed her there ...


EXT. CLUB FUCK - NIGHT
DOLLY (16) walks in.
Alabaster skin. Red lips.

Demure in that Wednesday Adams kinda way.
Must be the braids tied in ribbons.

The striped stockings.
Or is it the lollipop.

Where’s Humbert Humbert
when you need him?

Right behind her is Bland,
dressed in full combat fatigues.
He walks up to the doorperson.

ZED
I think you’ve got the wrong club.
The Village People look-alike contest
is down the street at the Cock Ring.

Bland takes off his shades.
Squints menacingly.

BLAND
Huh. I think I was just insulted.

He reaches up and SQUEEZES Zed’s neck.
His face turns RED.

BLAND
If I was angry,
I would pop your head like a zit.

He lets go.
Zed sucks in air.

BLAND
(pulls out money)
But I’m not angry.
I just want to have some
fucked-up fun tonight.
(slaps it in Zed’s hand)
So be a good little freak,
take the bribe,
and get the fuck out of my way.

Bland smiles grimly.
Pushes him aside. Walks in.

INT. CLUB FUCK - BACK BAR - CONTINUOUS
The filthy go-go groove of
The Thrill Kill Kult’s
GIRL WITHOUT A PLANET hip-swings over --

Friday. Perched on a bar stool.
Scoping out the action.

FRIDAY
'She’s a girl without a planet,
a girl without a home -- '

A FAT SLOB
in a diaper approaches her.

FAT SLOB
Mistress, I’ve been a very bad boy.
I made pee-pee.

FRIDAY
Freak. How old are you?

FAT SLOB
I’m three, mistress.

FRIDAY
I’m not your mistress, you fat fuck.
You don’t deserve my greatness.
And I don’t remember hearing you
ask permission to SPEAK to me.

FAT SLOB
Thank you, mistress.

FRIDAY
I said -- NO.

She gets off her stool.
Grabs an ashtray.

FLINGS it in his face.
Ashes, cigarettes stick
to his sweaty face, body.

FAT SLOB
I don’t deserve your attention, mistress.
I am so sorry. So sorry.
(gets on his knees)
Please forgive me mistress,
tell me what I can do
to earn your forgiveness.

FRIDAY
You can buy me a drink.
And then go change your fucking diaper.
You reek of piss.

FAT SLOB
Yes, Mistress -- I reek of piss.
Thank you, Mistress.
(to the bartender)
Please give the divine mistress
another round of whatever she’s having.
(pulls business card out of diaper)
Irv Sloca, CPA. Former IRS.
Now I help protect the
little guy from the bastards.

FRIDAY
Thanks, Irv.
Now, please -- don’t take
this the wrong way,
but I’m trying to get lucky tonight,
and your outfit kinda
clashes with my fabulousness.
No hard feelings --

IRV
None taken.
Glorious mistress of great beauty,
I bid you adieu.

He leaves.

FEMALE VOICE (O.C.)
That was so cool.

Friday turns. Sees --

DOLLY.
One stool over.

FRIDAY
Is that an all-day sucker?

DOLLY
Depends.

FRIDAY
Depends on what.

PUSH IN ON Dolly.
Slides the lolly out.
Naughty smile.

DOLLY
Who’s doing the sucking --