Does The Tin Man Have A Sheet Metal Dick?

Happy Thursday, 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 DICK & HONEY, we meet Dick and Honey's agent Morty Schmerzler, who operates out of a shitty little office in a strip mall in the Valley, who gets more than a little upset when they tell him they're about to become bounty hunters ...


EXT. STRIP MALL - DAY
Deep in the heart of the Valley.
A shitty, tiny cluster
of shops on a street corner.

Convenience store. Greasy chicken joint.
Payday Loans. And a cheesy neon sign
over a window with closed blinds:
‘Schmerzler & Associates Talent Agency.’

INT. SCHMERZLER & ASSOCIATES AGENCY - DAY
The receptionist ANNIE CHUNG (20’s)
sits behind a desk
just inside the front door.

Smokin’ hot, tiny, Japanese,
wearing very little clothing,
hair down to her ass. Ouch.

Sitting behind his desk is
MORTY SCHMERZLER (65),
‘agent to the stars.’

Slicked-back hair, craggy good looks.
Right now he’s reading script.

He takes a sip from his flask.
A hit off his cigarette.
Shakes his head in disgust.

MORTY
Jesus fucking Christ.
I can’t get past page one.
This is pure SHIT.

ANNIE
(brightly)
'Pure shit?'

MORTY
Yeah. Space Cat On Mushrooms.
‘Adapted from the book.’ HA.
Some fucking book THAT’S gotta be.

The phone RINGS.
Annie answers it.

ANNIE
Schmerzer and Associates.
May I help you?
(listens)
Hold please.
(presses a button)
Howard Fleckstein on one.

MORTY
(picks up)
Howard, how the hell are ya?
(listens)
You do? That’s great --
(listens)
Uh-huh, uh-huh --
(listens)
I have a couple
that would be perfect.
I’ll call ‘em right now
and send ‘em over.
(listens)
No. Thank YOU.

He PUNCHES another button.
Dials.

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. DICK AND HONEY’S LAND ROVER - MOVING - DAY
Dick drives. Honey examines
a small, silver DERRINGER.

DICK
I told you not to bring that.
You don’t have a carry permit.

HONEY
So I won’t carry it.
I’ll keep it in the glove compartment.

Honey’s phone RINGS.
Looks at it.
Puts it on ‘speakerphone.’

HONEY
Hey, Morty --

MORTY
So how did the gig go last night?

HONEY
It was great.

DICK
She’s lying. We sucked.

MORTY
Relax. Everybody bombs the first time.
You’ll get better. So listen,
I’ve got an audition for you.
It’s a radio commercial for
'Fiddler On The Match,'
a Jewish dating service.

HONEY
We can’t do it, Morty.
We’re on our way to
see a bail bondswoman.

MORTY
Oy gevalt, what did you do NOW?

HONEY
We’re late with the rent.
The landlord wants to evict us.
We need to make money, NOW.

MORTY
Then why on earth are you
going to see a bail bondswoman?

HONEY
We’re gonna be bounty hunters.

DICK
(looks out the window)
We’re here.

He pulls the car over. Parks.

MORTY
Wait a minute.
Did you say 'bounty hunters?'

HONEY
Gotta go. Call you later.

Morty looks at his phone
like he’s in pain.

ANNIE
You okay, Morty-San?

MORTY
Can I get back to you on that?

ANNIE
You want -- massage?

MORTY
Does the Tin Man
have a sheet metal dick?
Go put up the ‘closed’
sign and get your tight little
won ton over here.
(low)
I’d like you to show me
the mysteries of the Orient --