The One Percent

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 7 of DICK & HONEY, bounty hunters Dick and Honey interview fugitive Ponzi scheme criminal Roland Forsythe's wife Gigi at her Beverly Hills estate, with surprising results ...


EXT. SUNSET BOULEVARD MANSION - DAY
A giant, faux-Tudor monstrosity
with well-manicured grounds.

Dick and Honey
stand at the front door.

Honey rings the doorbell.
Dick looks around.

DICK
So this is how
the other half lives.

HONEY
Don’t you mean
‘the one percent?’

DICK
The one percent of what.

HONEY
C’mon, Dick.
You watch TV.
(off his look)
One percent of the country
has ninety-six percent
of the wealth.

DICK
You know I’m
not good with math.

The giant door OPENS.
A regal-looking BUTLER (60’s)
in formalwear appears.
Looks at them askance.

REGAL-LOOKING BUTLER
(British accent)
May I help you, sir?

DICK
Hi. We’re here
to see Mrs. Forsythe.

REGAL-LOOKING BUTLER
May I ask what
this is in reference to?

DICK
I’m an old college
friend of her husband’s.
Just got in town
and can’t get him
on the phone,
so I thought
I’d try his house.

REGAL-LOOKING BUTLER
One moment, please.

He leaves, closing
the door behind him.

HONEY
(imitates him)
'May I ask what this
is in reference to?'

DICK
Hey, that’s not bad.
Maybe we should work
some impressions
into the act.

The door FLIES open.

GIGI FORSYTHE (40’s) appears.
Great-looking, strawberry blonde,
aerobisized, deeply-tanned,
and clutching a scotch
on the rocks for dear life.

GIGI
‘College friend,’ my ass.
If you were looking for Roland,
you’d go to his office,
NOT his house.
Who the fuck are you REALLY?

HONEY
Sorry for the subterfuge,
Mrs. Forsythe.
We’re private detectives.

GIGI
Oooh, check out
‘Hart To Hart.’

DICK
Your husband skipped out
on his bail.
We’re trying to find him.

GIGI
You’ve come to the
wrong place, bucko.
We’re in the middle of a divorce.
The shithead cleaned out
our bank account
and fucking disappeared.
Even my asshole lawyer
can’t find him.
Now I’m gonna to have
to sell the fucking house.

HONEY
Wow. I never knew rich people
swore as much as poor people did.

GIGI
Oh, yeah.
And we’re just as RUDE.

She THROWS her drink
in Honey’s face.
SLAMS the door.

She pulls out a tissue.
Wipes her face.
Gives Dick a look.

HONEY
Was it something I said?

DICK
At least you got booze.
I got cheese --