Not In My House

Happy Tuesday, crime-stoppers. 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 27 of of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, dead TV movie producer Roland Yavo's transgendered daughter Nikki comes home to get her stuff, and runs afoul of her mother ...


EXT. LAGUNA BEACH - COAST - NIGHT
A row of LUX MANSIONS at the top
of the cliffs overlooking the ocean.
The exclusive, expensive seats.

EXT./INT. - NIKKI’S JAGUAR - MOVING - AT THAT MOMENT
The swingin’, Farfisa-loungey sounds of Nicola Conte’s
BOSSA PER DUE rock the car stereo, while --

Nikki’s wheels ROAR down the coastal drive.

NIKKI
(on her cell)
Just put it on my tab.
(beat)
You think you’re
the only dealer in Laguna?
(beat)
Think of all the business
I’ve brought you --
(beat)
Trade? I wouldn’t stoop to --
(beat)
That much?
(beat)
The Boom-Boom Room. At midnight.

She hangs up with disgust.

NIKKI
The things a gal has to do
for recreational drugs --

INT. YAVO ESTATE - KITCHEN - AT THAT MOMENT
Anne Margaret’s LET ME ENTERTAIN YOU over --

A huge, gleaming expanse of
restaurant-quality culinary perfection.
All chrome, tile and glass.

GLORIA YAVO (40’s) is perched on a stool.
Gimlet-eyed. Once a beauty, now watered down.
Unlike her cocktail.

Clothing, hair, makeup, perfect.
If only someone was home.

She CLACK-CLACKS on a laptop computer.
Puffs on a cigarette.

GLORIA
It’s mine, Goddammit.

ON THE SCREEN
we see an Ebay auction.
Letters read YOU’VE BEEN OUTBID.

GLORIA
furiously PUNCHES in a number.

GLORIA
Five hundred DOLLARS.
You happy now?

NIKKI
walks in.

NIKKI
Hello, Mother.

GLORIA
(looks up)
Nicholas.
WHY are you DRESSED like that?
You look RIDICULOUS.

NIKKI
(STOMPS her foot)
I told you, my name is NIKKI.
And I’m beautiful.

GLORIA
(eyes on the monitor)
Not in my house, you aren’t.

NIKKI
I’m going upstairs
and get some of my things.
I’m moving out.

GLORIA
Bullshit.
Your father just called.
You’ve been kicked out.
I’m not supposed to let you in.

Nikki goes to the counter,
rummages through Gloria’s purse.

NIKKI
Don’t worry,
I’m not going to stay.

GLORIA
You better hurry.
He’s on his way home --
and if he finds you here,
dressed like that --

NIKKI
(finds cash, counts it)
What? He’ll HIT me?

GLORIA
(looks up)
What THE FUCK
do you think you’re doing?
Put THAT BACK.

NIKKI
Shut the fuck up, you old hag.
Have another drink. On me.
(squints)
That’s quite a shiner.
I’d put a little more concealer on that.
Wouldn’t want the neighbors to find out.

GLORIA
Wait a minute, that’s MY dress.
Take it off, RIGHT NOW --
you, you -- FREAK.

Nikki goes to the doorway
into the living room.

NIKKI
Like it would still fit you.

Gloria HURLS her glass at Nikki.
It hits the wall -- CRASH.

GLORIA
Fucking FAGGOT!

NIKKI
(smiles)
Now look what you did.
That was a perfectly good cocktail.

Gloria LEAPS off her stool.
RACES over to Nikki.

Starts BEATING her with her fists.
Nikki GRABS her wrists.

NIKKI
Back off.
Before I do something I regret.

GLORIA
I HAVE no son.
You are DEAD to me.

Nikki PUSHES her.
Gloria LURCHES back.

TRIPS on the rug.
HITS the floor with a CRACK.

GLORIA
You can’t DO that!
I’m YOUR MOTHER.

Nikki goes to the staircase.
Stops. Turns.

NIKKI
Watch me.

Once An Outlaw

Hey there, crime kids. Happy Monday. Having a hard time getting back into the grind? Then why not 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 26 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, private eye Carrie Love hides out at her favorite dive bar to drink away her sorrows ... and then gets a phone call from homicide detective Bernie Keko, who has some shocking news ...


INT. DIVE BAR - MORNING
Paul Anka’s shaken-not-stirred cover of
BLACKHOLE SUN coos on the jukebox.

Behind the bar, Axel cleans a glass.

Carrie sits on a stool with a beer and a shot.
Looks like death warmed over.
Brittle. Lost. Haunted.

AXEL
So I guess you’re a regular now.

CARRIE
More like an 'irregular.'

AXEL
So you have the day off
from the detective thing?

CARRIE
Hey. Like the sign says,
‘get the day started right.’

AXEL
I might look like an asshole shit-kicker,
but I’m a good listener.
At least my girlfriend says so --
(beat)
Wanna tell me about it?

Carrie drinks the amber liquid.
SLAMS the shot glass down.

CARRIE
Keep ‘em coming.

AXEL
(pours)
I didn’t mean to pry.
You just look like you
could use a friend.

She DOWNS it.
CRACKS the glass on the bar.
Axel pours.

CARRIE
(sips her beer)
Well, let’s see.
First, my girlfriend left the country
without saying goodbye,
then a one-night stand hired me
to find out who killed her husband,
so I just HAD to fuck her receptionist --
and then, OH YEAH,
my fucking HOUSE BURNED DOWN,
and I LOST EVERYTHING,
so I BEAT THE SHIT outta
the guy who did it,
and ALMOST KILLED him.
(DOWNS the shot)
Ahhhhh. Get the day started right.
(burps)
Oh, yeah -- jail was nice, too.

AXEL
That’s some fucked-up shit.
I’m sorry.
(beat)
Fuck.

She points at the shot glass.
Smiles, evil.

AXEL
Maybe you should slow it down a bit.
You have any breakfast yet?
(off her silence)
How ‘bout I fix you a cheeseburger?
Get somethin’ in yer belly.
CARRIE
(a whisper)
That would be -- really nice of you.

Axel nods. Shuffles into the back.
Carrie crumples. About to lose it.

Her cell RINGS.
She fishes it out. Listens.

CARRIE
Hello?

INTERCUT WITH:

INT./EXT - UNMARKED CAR - MOVING - CONTINUOUS
Aya drives. Bernie speaks on the car phone. White-faced.

BERNIE
Carrie?

CARRIE
Bernie. How’s tricks?
Oh, that’s right, tricks are for chicks.

BERNIE
Not so good, Carrie.
(beat)
The ballistics report shows
your gun killed Flender.

CARRIE
You mean the Magnum?
(mumbles, to herself)
So it didn’t just disappear.
I knew someone fucking took it.

BERNIE
The revolving door on your bedroom
won’t work as an alibi, Carrie.
(ominous)
We have a big problem.

CARRIE
We always had a problem, Bernie.
Except the sex was so fucking good --

BERNIE
We can do this one of two ways.
You can turn yourself in, now --
and I’ll get the best fucking deal
I can for you, I promise.

CARRIE
And the second way?

BERNIE
You don’t want that.
It’s not pretty.

CARRIE
As Steve Martin said,
Comedy isn’t pretty.
And you’re forgetting the third way.

BERNIE
Carrie --

CARRIE
It’s called --
(realizes)
Eat shit and DIE, motherfucker.

She CLICKS the phone shut.
Bernie hangs up. Dials another number.

BERNIE
You get the location?
(beat)
Shit.

AYA
I told you.
You should have let me talk to her.
Now we don’t know where she is.

BERNIE
Shut THE FUCK up.
That’s my EX-WIFE,
who’s now a fugitive from the law.

AYA
You still have feelings for her.

PUSH IN ON Bernie. In denial.

BERNIE
Shut the fuck up and drive.

IN THE BAR
Carrie wolfs down the greasy burger.
Axel watches, proud.

AXEL
The secret is what I put in the meat.
Some pepper, ground onion --
and Tabasco sauce.

CARRIE
If I wasn’t on the lam,
I’d fuck your brains out.

AXEL
On -- the lam?

CARRIE
I’ve been fingered.
Someone framed me for murder.
So now I have to go underground.
(realizes)
Shit. What do I do with my car --

AXEL
That’s a tough break.
(thinks)
Hey. I live right down the block.
And I have an empty garage.
I keep my hog in the living room
where it’s warm.

CARRIE
You’d -- do that for me?

AXEL
Did five years in Ossining.
Gang fight with another cycle club.
Ruled justifiable homicide,
but I had a kilo of smack in the saddle bag.
Left the club after I got sprung.
Too old for that shit anymore.

He pours two shots.
They lift them in a toast.

CARRIE
Once an outlaw, always an outlaw.

AXEL
Something like that --

And they DOWN THEM.

You Are What You Eat

Happy Friday, crime-stoppers. 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 25 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, the shit hits the fan when the cops run a ballistic test on the gun that killed TV movie producer Roland Yavo, and the evidence points right in the direction of ... a certain private eye we know and love ...


INT. SANTA MONICA POLICE HEADQUARTERS - DAY
Bernie and Aya sit at their desks.
Facing each other.

Aya is eating a vegetarian wrap.
Sips from a bottle of water.

Bernie, a cheeseburger and fries.
And a super-sized coke.

AYA
(looks at his food)
They say you
are what you eat --

BERNIE
Then what are you,
a vegetable?
That’s funny,
you can move.

AYA
THIS is healthy --
(points)
THAT is dead animal flesh,
served with sugar
and salt and grease.

Bernie takes a big bite.
Smiles wolfishly.

BERNIE
I know.
And it’s so fucking GOOD.
GRRRRRR.

MALE VOICE (O.C.)
I’m glad to see
you two are playing nicely.

In walks Lipshitz.
Scratching his belly.

LIPSHITZ
What’s the scoop?
Did you talk
to Flender’s widow?

BERNIE
Yeah.
Cold fish, that one.
Said she’d already
given her statement.

LIPSHITZ
Do you think the
murders are connected?

BERNIE
I’m not sure. Maybe.

AYA
Definitely not.

Bernie and Lipshitz
exchange glances.

LIPSHITZ
(to Bernie)
You have anything new?

BERNIE
Thought you’d never ask.
We’ve placed Carrie Love
at the scene of Yavo’s murder
at the time of death.

LIPSHITZ
But do you really think --

BERNIE
I don’t know what to think.
Maybe, if she was on a tear --

AYA
You’re being ridiculous.
There’s no way
Carrie Love killed Yavo.
It doesn’t make any sense.

BERNIE
Murder NEVER makes sense, doll.
(to Lipshitz)
There’s some connection though --
she’s hired by one guy’s wife
to find him, and then is
seen where the other guy gets it.
Too big of a coincidence.

AYA
She’s a DETECTIVE.
She was following LEADS.

RASPY MALE VOICE (O.C.)
With a rather exotic
form of ammunition,
it would appear.

Muller appears.
Holding a ballistics report.
He reads --

MULLER
Flender was shot with
45-caliber dum-dum
hollow points --

He smiles. Preening.
In the spotlight.

LIPSHITZ
Come on, Muller --
out with it.

MULLER
Fired from a gun
registered to --

Muller looks up
from the report.
Smiles grimly.

LIPSHITZ
MULLER.

MULLER
Ms. -- Carrie Love.

BERNIE
Shit.

LIPSHITZ
Fuck.

AYA
No.

They exchange glances.
Realizing the implications.

LIPSHITZ
Guess you're gonna
have to bring her in.

BERNIE
Let me call her first.
I know how to handle her.

AYA
Oh, yeah.
That's obvious.
(beat)
Get divorced much?

What Doesn't Kill You

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 24 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, homicide dicks Bernie Keko and Aya Meir interview greiving widow Gay Flender at her late husband's production company. Meanwhile, private eye Carrie Love warns new flame Jenny Lane about the 'impending darkness' about to fall ...


INT. YAVO/FLENDER FILMS - FLENDER’S OFFICE - MORNING
Fleming sits behind Harvey’s big desk. Feet up.

On the phone. Listening.
Twirling the cord with his finger.

FLEMING
I understand, Jackie.
But we have one show in prep,
one in principal, and two in post.
Somebody has to steer the ship,
and since I’ve been first mate
for over ten years --

FEMALE VOICE (O.C.)
Love the nautical references.

GAY FLENDER
stands in the doorway.
Hands on hips. Livid.

GAY
Now get THE FUCK
out of my husband’s office.

FLEMING
(into the phone)
Gotta go.
(SLAMS it down)
Gay. How are you?

GAY
I’ll be fine when you
GET THE FUCK out of here.

FLEMING
(stands)
I’m sorry, I thought I should --

GAY
You thought? You THOUGHT?
That’s the problem right there.
You tried to THINK.
Now go back to your work station
and answer the fucking phones.

FLEMING
(as he leaves, dejected)
Okay, Mrs. -- uh, Gay.

GAY
And get me a Perrier
while you’re at it. Lime.
In a cup. With a fuckload of ice.

And then get Variety on the phone.
I’ve gotta statement to make.

Modi walks in. Looks jittery. Spooked.

MODI
Gay. What are you doing here?
In -- Harvey’s office?

GAY
It’s my office now.
(low)
Yavo was killed last night,
shot in the head.

MODI
Yavo’s -- dead?

GAY
(nods)
Someone has to -- steer the ship.

MODI
Where? When?
We should account for where we were.

GAY
(sharp whisper)
Shhh. Not here.

A voice BLEATS on the desktop intercom.

JENNY (O.C.)
Gay? There are a couple of --
detectives here to see you.

GAY
(to herself)
Shit.
(into the intercom)
Bring them on back, Jenny -- thanks.

Gay and Modi exchange looks.

INT. HARVEY FLENDER’S OFFICE - AT THAT MOMENT
Bernie and Aya stand in the doorway.
Gay swivels in the large, leather desk chair.
Sips Perrier.

Modi perches on the couch.
Bright, scary-beaming face.
Sips his coffee.

GAY
I’ve already been through this
twice with a couple different officers.
Is this really necessary?

BERNIE
Just a few routine questions, ma’am.

GAY
Detective, my husband was MURDERED,
and I think you should be out there
trying to find his KILLER --
instead of badgering me with the
same questions over and over again.

Bernie nods slowly.
Fishes out his card.
Hands it to Gay.

BERNIE
Call me if you remember anything else.

Aya pulls out her card.
Slides it onto the desk.

AYA
Call me if you need someone to talk to.
I have a psychology degree.
I’ve done a lot of grief counseling.

BERNIE
And don’t leave town.

GAY
Leave town?
I have a funeral to plan.
A eulogy to write, a -- a --

She breaks down. Starts crying.

INT. JENNY’S APARTMENT - AT THAT MOMENT
Jenny stands at the front door.
Shrugs into her jacket.

Smiles wanly at Carrie,
looking out the windows, back to us.

JENNY
Just make yourself at home.
I’m sorry, but I have to go to work.
Modi, my boss -- can be --

CARRIE
An asshole. So you said.

JENNY
Everything’s gonna be okay.
You can stay as long as you like.
Help yourself to what’s in the fridge.
When I get back, I’ll fix us a nice dinner.

CARRIE
(turns)
Thanks. You’re really --

JENNY
It’s okay.

Jenny walks over to Carrie.
Leans up. Kisses her. They hug.

CARRIE
I can feel storm clouds gathering.
You better be careful.

JENNY
Careful? Careful of what?

CARRIE
They say what doesn’t kill you
makes you stronger.

JENNY
Kill who? Me?

PUSH IN ON Carrie.
Falling apart.

CARRIE
No. Me.

Place Your Bets

Hey there, crime kids. Happy Wednesday. 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 23 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, homicide detective Bernie Keko and his partner Aya Meir scope out the hotel room crime scene where TV movie producer Roland Yavo bit the dust, and get into a bit of dust-up themselves ...


INT. HOTEL CALIFORNIA - ROOM - NIGHT
A swarm of CRIME SCENE TECHNICIANS
swarm around the room.

Taking pictures.
Dusting for prints.
Gathering evidence.

Bernie inspects Yavo’s body
lying on a gurney.

BERNIE
No way this was self-inflicted.
Not a suicide.

AYA
(points at chalk outline)
Look at the way he fell.
Body position is relaxed.
There was no struggle.
He knew the shooter.

An ANGRY CORONER'S OFFICE TECH
starts to zip up the body bag.

ANGRY CORONER TECH
Enough show and tell.
We gotta get him downtown.
The DA is on fire
about this one.

BERNIE
What kind of prints
you get, Muller?

MULLER
(looks up from his work)
Oh, only a couple hundred.
Love these hotel room jobs.
Major overtime.

BERNIE
Let me know if you find
any belonging to Carrie Love.

AYA
Carrie Love?
Wasn’t she that homicide dick
that was thrown off the force --

BERNIE
ZIP it, she was my PARTNER.

AYA
At work or at home?

BERNIE
Uh -- both.

AYA
Well, that sure as hell
explains a lot.

BERNIE
And what the fuck
is THAT supposed to mean?

AYA
You not only
shit where you eat,
you roll around in it.

Bernie GRABS her shoulders.
SHAKES her.

BERNIE
Shut UP!

AYA
(SLAPS his hands away)
Get your HANDS OFF ME.

Aya GRABS him.
SPINS him around.
CRACKS him in a CHOKE-HOLD.

AYA
If you ever
lay your hands on me again,
It’s the end of your
family name, GOT IT?

She GRABS his crotch.
SQUEEZES, HARD --

BERNIE
OW!

And releases him
with a flourish.

BERNIE
Bitch.

AYA
Asshole.

She STORMS OUT.
Door SLAMS.

The room breaks into APPLAUSE.

MULLER
Nice one, Keko.
(to the room)
Gentlemen, place your bets.
Methinks they’ll be screwing in --

ANGRY CORONER TECH
I give it two weeks.

EAGER EVIDENCE DETECTIVE
One week. If that.

PUSH IN ON Muller.
Holding up a bill.

MULLER
Twenty bucks says tonight.

My Lips Are Sealed

Hello Ruby Tuesday, crime slicksters -- will they hang a noose on you? 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 22 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, private eye Carrie Love and production assistant Jenny Lane wake up 'the next morning,' and then 'get busy.' Meanwhile, wannabe torture porn director Phillie Pfugg and his squeeze Chinette return home from 'a special dinner' at Sizzler, and discover a horrifying surprise ...


INT. JENNY’S APARTMENT - MORNING
Now that it’s light out, we can see
through the wall of windows
the Marina Peninsula’s Grand Canal.

It’s quite a sight.
Worth every penny of the outrageous rent.

Nestled in a large, airy studio
is a kitchenette.

Dinette. Work stationette.
Entertainment centerette.
Very cute.

Carrie leans against the kitchenette counter.
Rakish in Jenny’s white terry cloth robe.
Holding a mug of coffee.

CARRIE
Not as hung over
as I thought I’d be.
(beat)
Did we -- you know,
do anything, uh -- ?

JENNY
comes into frame.
With her coffee.


JENNY
No. You passed out.
I slept on the couch.

CARRIE
Good. Don’t want to
compromise -- the case.

Pause.

JENNY
We did -- kiss.

CARRIE
We did?
(off Jenny’s nod)
Did you like it?

JENNY
(quiet)
I did.

Carrie puts down her mug.
Puts her hands on Jenny’s hips.

CARRIE
Rule one.
Don’t mix business with pleasure.

JENNY
(strokes Carrie’s hair)
Uh-huh.

CARRIE
Rule two.
Don’t get involved on the rebound.

JENNY
(puts arms on Carrie’s shoulders)
Definitely not.

CARRIE
Rule three --
(beat)
What the fuck.

And she GRABS Jenny for dear life.
Jenny grabs right back.

They writhe against the kitchenette counter.
Swooning.

Carrie’s hand WHACKS her mug,
it hits the floor, CRASH.

Jenny’s foot CRACKS
against the garbage pail, BANG.

They kiss each other hungrily.
FALL to the floor, THUD.

Roll around on the carpet.
Hands everywhere at once.

Carrie’s head disappears
under Jenny’s skirt.

JENNY
Oh, my-god --

CLOSE ON
Jenny’s face.
In complete ecstasy.

It’s never been this good.
Years of bad sex a
nd faking orgasms melt away.

Something from deep inside
starts rising to the surface.

JENNY
Ahhh --
(rising)
Ahhh --
(gathering steam)
AHHH --
(louder)
AHHH --

And a high-pitched
animal YELP ERUPTS from her mouth.

A wall-shaking, window shattering
PRIMAL SCREAM of complete, utter abandon.

She WAILS and WAILS
like a she-banshee.

And just as quickly, it stops.
Carrie’s head reappears.

JENNY
That was -- incredible.

CARRIE
Your first orgasm?

JENNY
(shy)
Promise you won’t tell anyone?

CARRIE
My lips are sealed.
(beat)
So to speak.

EXT. LAUREL CANYON BLVD. - AT THAT MOMENT
A green, lumbering, old-school HUMMER
makes the trek up the hill.

Followed by Beemers. Porsches.
An Escalade limo.

INT. HUMMER - CONTINUOUS
Dean Martin rocks the subwoofers.
YOU BELONG TO ME, indeed.

Phillie’s behind the wheel.
Cleaning his teeth with a toothpick.

Chinette rides shotgun.
Holds a doggie bag.
Looks out the window. Pensive.

CHINETTE
I really like that place.
It’s a Sizzler,
but it’s in Beverly Hills,
so it’s nicer.

PHILLIE
I figured since you were upset,
we’d do something nice.
Splurge a little.

CHINETTE
You’re the sweetest guy, Phillie.

PHILLIE
You know, once the movie is done,
we’re gonna be fucking rolling in it.
And I’ve already mapped out
the story for the sequel --

He slows, turns,
goes down their driveway.

PHILLIE
Just one scene to go,
and we’ve got lightning in a bottle.

The car pulls into the garage.

INT. PFUGG RESIDENCE - BASEMENT - CONTINUOUS
Phillie stops at the top of the stairs.
Over his shoulder --

PHILLIE
Why don’t you crack open a box of wine,
I’ll bring up the dailies.

CHINETTE (O.C.)
‘Kay, honey --

He smiles.
Starts down the steps, then sees --

The joint is COMPLETELY TRASHED.
Camera SMASHED.

Videotape in RIBBONS,
like toilet paper in a tree.
A complete DISASTER.

PHILLIE
NOOOOOO!

He races down.
Surveys the damage.
Freaks out.

Sees a note taped to
the cracked plasma-screen.
He GRABS it. Reads --

Greetings from 'The Tour De Fuck.'

Double Feature

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 21 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, homicide detectives Bernie Keko and Aya Meir get ready to check out the crime scene were producer Roland Yavo was killed. Meanwhile, private eye Carrie Love is distraught over losing her home, and Jenny Lane tries to comfort her.


INT. UNMARKED CAR - AT THAT MOMENT
Aya and Bernie sit in the car,
parked in front of a designer coffee joint.
Sipping java.

AYA
Isn’t it a little late
to be visiting the widow?

BERNIE
Element of surprise.
In case there’s any
monkey business,
catches ‘em off guard.

The police radio SQUEALS.

DISPATCHER (V.O.)
All units in the vicinity of
Ocean Avenue and Colorado.
We’ve got a 10-54 at the
Hotel California, 1670 Ocean Avenue.
See the night clerk.

BERNIE
Shit. That’s right nearby --
(grabs the transmitter)
This is unit three-twelve.
We’ve got it. On our way.
(to Aya)
Come on, let’s go.

Aya starts the car.
Pulls out of the parking lot.

INT./EXT. UNMARKED CAR - MOVING - CONTINUOUS

BERNIE
Take Wilshire all the way to the ocean.

DISPATCHER (V.O.)
Bernie, it’s me, Roger.

BERNIE
(into the transmitter)
Hey, Roger. Who’s the stiff?
Some tourist?

ROGER (V.O.)
You know that movie producer
that got snuffed this morning?

BERNIE
Yeah?

ROGER (V.O.)
It’s his partner.

BERNIE
Great. Now it’s a double feature.

INT. JENNY’S APARTMENT - A LITTLE WHILE LATER
Chet Baker’s THE THRILL IS GONE
plays softly on the stereo.

Carrie and Jenny sit on the couch.
More than a little looped.

CARRIE
There’s a couple of
decent places at the beach.
The Venice Motor Hotel, maybe.
Reasonably cheap, not too sleazy,
and right near --
(hiccups)
The Boardwalk.
(drains her glass, stands)
I’m gonna go freshen my --

A fire engine SIREN SCREAMS.
Carrie DROPS her glass.

It hits the hardwood floor. CRASH.
She races to the window.

CARRIE
NOOOOOOO!

JENNY
It’s okay, it’s okay!
It’s just a --

Carrie watches the fire truck go by.
Socked in the gut.

She WHIRLS AROUND.
Clenches her fists.
The shock balloon POPS.

CARRIE
NO, It’s NOT OKAY.
It’s NOT -- OKAY.
I lost EVERYTHING.
My music, my books, my movies,
my clothes, my -- SHOES.
Ohmigod, my SHOES!
My fucking SHOES.
(gasps)
I lost EVERYTHING, Jenny!
I lost EVERYTHING I had in THE WORLD.
(beat)
And now I --
(beat)
I have --
(quietly)
Nothing.

And she LOSES IT.

Wrenching, heart-ripping SOBS of pain.
Spilling, gushing out like
blood from a violent wound.

Jenny races over to Carrie.
Hugs her. Strokes her hair.

Carrie cries. And cries.
And cries --

INT. HOTEL CALIFORNIA - FRONT DESK - NIGHT
Bernie stands with Aya at the desk.
Bernie flips his badge at Grotesque Clerk.

Grotesque checks it out.
Scratches herself.

BERNIE
Detective Keko, homicide.
This is my partner, Aya Meir.

AYA
(nods)
When did you find the body?

GROTESQUE CLERK
About fifteen minutes ago.
The guy in the room below
called to complain about
blood leaking through the ceiling.
Poor guy’s on his honeymoon.
At first he thought he
broke his wife’s cherry.
But when she told him she
really wasn’t a virgin,
well, hello --

BERNIE
Did Yavo have any visitors,
anybody suspicious-looking?

GROTESQUE CLERK
Another detective, a woman.
Checked out the dead guy’s room,
then left in an hurry.
Drove a big, old, white car,
Cadillac, I think.
Didn’t say her name --

BERNIE
Tall, thin, long hair,
big boobs, smart mouth?

GROTESQUE CLERK
Yeah, that’s her.

AYA
You know this person?

BERNIE
Yeah. And now she’s
in a shit-load of trouble.
(to the clerk)
What’s the room number?

GROTESQUE CLERK
24. You can’t miss it.
Place is crawling with pig --
uh, cops.