Tuesday, January 29, 2013

American Pussy


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 24 of NOWHERE GIRL, now safely out of the rain in a Hollywood Hills pool house, fugitive stripper with a suitcase nuke Cherry Nation attends to hipster Peeler Mardo's wound. Meanwhile, Al Qaeda terrorist Hamad Kharrazi has his way with the rich homeowner's wife whose mansion the terrorist cell has taken command of ... just as Bel Air Security arrives ...


INT. POOL HOUSE - NIGHT
Cozy. Very hunting lodge.
Fireplace. Stocked bar.

Cherry and Peeler enter the room.
She guides him over to the couch.
He PLOPS down.

PEELER
Thank god.
(beat)
I’m freezing.

Cherry goes to the heater.
Turns it on.

CHERRY
We’ll get warmed up in a jiffy.
(looks around)
Better leave the lights off.

She find some towels.
Grabs one.
THROWS it at Peeler.

PEELER
(catches it)
Thanks.

They dry themselves.
She notices the bar.

CHERRY
A little brandy
should do the trick.
Then let’s take a look
at your foot.

She pours two snifters.
Takes them to the couch. Sits.

CHERRY (CONT'D)
(hands one to Peeler)
Here’s lookin’ at you, kid.

PEELER
Yeah.
(takes a sip)
Listen to that rain.

CHERRY
Yeah.

She leans over.
Kisses him on the cheek.

PEELER
What was that for?

ANGLE ON --
Cherry’s hand grabs
the end of the rusty nail.
YANKS it.

PEELER
YELLS out in pain.

CHERRY
Distraction.

EXT. HOLLYWOOD HILLS MANSION - NIGHT
The squad car makes its way
down the long, long driveway.

INT. SECURITY SQUAD CAR - MOVING - CONTINUOUS
The guys check out the lux digs.

DRIVER
Shit, look at this joint.
It’s bigger than my high school.

RENNY
Hurry up and park.
I gotta take a piss.

INT. MANSION - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT
Unbelievably opulent. Huge.
With a giant circular bed.

Trophy’s wrists have been
tied to the bedposts with rope.

Hamad is on top of her,
slowly humping away.

Her face is streaked with tears.
Eyes closed, softly whimpering.

HAMAD
(grunts)
American pussy --
(beat)
Smells like STRAWBERRIES.

Downstairs, the doorbell RINGS.

HAMAD (CONT’D)
Go away.

He moves faster,
really goes at it.

HAMAD (CONT’D)
You need to MOVE HIPS.

He SLAPS her.
She CRIES out.
Starts humping him.

HAMAD (CONT’D)
That’s more LIKE it.

Kamal comes to the door.
Averts his eyes.

KAMAL
Hamad.

Hamad keeps humping,
reaching his crescendo.

HAMAD
Ah -- ah -- ah --

KAMAL
HAMAD. Sorry to interrupt, but --

Hamad COMES like a bull on steroids.
ROARS like a tiger.

HAMAD
Praise ALLAH!
Fuck AMERICAN PUSSY!

The doorbell RINGS again.

KAMAL
There is someone at the door.
Private Bel Air Security.
What should we do?

Hamad gets off Trophy Wife.
Pads over to Kamal.

HAMAD
Let them in.
Take husband with you.
Tell him we hurt wife
unless he cooperates.

KAMAL
Okay.
(beat)
How was she?

HAMAD
No pubic hair. Outrageous.
(beat)
But incredible turn-on --

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