Trouble Is My Business

Hey there, crime kids. Happy Friday. 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 3 of DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, undercover homicide detective Carrie Love sits in her car early one morning enjoying a couple of hits from her flask ... until a young street punk rips off an old woman's purse, and Carrie must leap into action ...


INT. UNDERCOVER VEHICLE - MORNING
Carrie sits behind the wheel
of an idling late-model sedan.

Holds a container of coffee.
Breathes in the steam. Shivers.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Can’t wait to get home
and take a long, hot shower.
Wash off that ‘eau de gutter.’

She pulls out a flask.
Pours in something brown. Toasts.

CARRIE (V.O.)
But then, if I keep this up --
what’s the difference?

EXT. VENICE BEACH ALLEY - CONTINUOUS
An OLD CHINESE WOMAN trundles by
carrying a bag of laundry.

Suddenly a young STREET KID runs up.
GRABS her handbag --

And dashes off down the street.

OLD CHINESE WOMAN
Hey! Muthafucka, yoo come back here!

And, big surprise --
she takes off after him.

CARRIE
sees the commotion --

CARRIE
Goddammit!

JAMS the car into gear --
and TAKES OFF.

The coffee FLIES in the air,
drenching her shirt, her lap.

CARRIE
Fuck!
(out the window)
Hey, you! Stop! Police!

EXT. VENICE BEACH ALLEY - CONTINUOUS
The kid TEARS ASS down the alley
at lightning speed.

Carrie’s car SCREECHES
up right behind him, and --
just as it looks like
she’s going to run him over --

He feints left, then DASHES to the right --
into a narrow alley between buildings.

CARRIE
flies by.
SCREECHES to a halt.

JAMS into reverse. Fishtails.
CRUNCHES the gravel.

She HITS the gas,
ROARS into the alley.

CARRIE
They’re gonna kill me
at the auto pool --

IN THE ALLEY
The thief gets to the other end.
Trips. OOF.

CARRIE’S CAR
BARRELS down the alley,
the sides of the frame
SHRIEKING, SCRAPING against the buildings,
sparks FLYING --

THE KID
gets up.

Sees Carrie’s vehicle coming toward him.
Takes off.

CARRIE’S CAR
reaches a door stoop
at the end of the alley.

Her right front fender
CRUNCHES into it.
Headlight POPS.

The sedan’s wheels SPIN
madly in the soft earth.

She shuts off the engine.
It SPUTTERS, CLANK.

CARRIE
This day is not getting off
to a very good start.

Just then, BANGING
on passenger-side window.

IRATE BUILDING OWNER
Hey! What the FUCK
do you think you’re doing?

CARRIE
(flashes her badge)
Police business, you fat fuck.
Get the fuck out of my face.

And, to add insult in injury --
the CHINESE WOMAN appears
in front of the car.

With the kid in a choke-hold.
She SHOVES him onto the ground.
GRABS her purse. Yells --

OLD CHINESE WOMAN
If you be doing yoo job,
I no have to ruin ten-dolla shoes!

She stomps off.

IRATE BUILDING OWNER
(leans in the window)
Jesus.
You really a cop?
You reek of booze.

CARRIE
At least I don’t
reek of BO, asshole.
Now get the fuck outta here
before I cite you
for smelling like shit.

IRATE BUILDING OWNER
Jeez.
No need to be nasty.

CARRIE
Listen, doll.
Nasty’s my middle name.
And trouble is my business.
(beat)
You really wanna be a customer?