Liquid Breakfast

Happy Saturday, crime aficianados. Feeling a little violent? Got a mean streak? An itch that can't be scratched? Then shake your tailfeather over to the coolest joint on the web. That Killing Feeling. Open for business, serving the finest in hardboiled pulp. Shaken, not slurred.

Screened a big, fat, fun, stupid action movie last night -- SWAT. Now, in case you're wondering why I'm watching pretty much nothing but big budget crime stuff like this, well -- there's a method to my madness. I'm still a student of noir and classic films, but right now I'm doing research. I wanna write one of these. In fact, my next screenplay, after I"m done with a draft of LITTLE GIRL BLUE, is gonna be one.

So I'm researching.

Back to SWAT. I had no interest in it when it came out -- sounded stupid. A big-screen version of a questionable TV show from the 80's? Well, guess what. It works. Sam Jackson, LL Cool J, Michelle Rodriguez, and a pre-rehab Colin Ferrell are terrific in this fast, violent shoot-em-up Check it out if you haven't ..

Onto today's bleak scene from WILSHIRE BOULEVARD. Carrie goes to the beach with a bottle, and calls Gay Flender, wife of a certain dead movie producer. The plot indeed thickens ...


EXT. VENICE BEACH - SHORELINE - ROCKS - AFTERNOON
Carrie sits on the rocks watching the waves.
The surfers doing their thing.
She drinks from a new bottle. Winces.
Pulls out her cell phone. Dials. Listens --

CARRIE
Gay?
(listens)
Yeah, it’s me. Your pigeon. Your frame.
Tell me why you did it.
I want some answers, NOW.

SPLIT SCREEN WITH:

INT. YAVO/FLENDER FILMS - OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
Gay paces the floor. Smoking a cigarette.
A Cheshire cat.

GAY
Answers? To what?
I hired YOU to get ME some answers --

CARRIE
Don’t play dumb with me,
you vacant, airbrushed strumpet.
I’ve been framed for your husband’s murder,
and I’ve got a funny feeling
you had something to do with it.

The door opens. Modi slides in.
Sees Gay’s on the phone.
Gay raises a finger, ‘shushes’ him.
Presses ‘speakerphone.’
Softly places the receiver in its cradle.

GAY
You mean to tell me you think
I hired you to find my husband’s killer,
and then I FRAMED you?
That doesn’t make sense.

CARRIE
Yeah. Kinda like one of your late husband’s
fucking piece-of-shit movies.
A bad rip-off of THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE.
Oh, wait -- that’s quality source material.
This reeks of Jackie Collins.
Maybe Danielle Steele.

Carrie BURPS.

Modi shoots Gay a look.
Gay shakes her head.

GAY
Kinda early in the morning for cocktails, detective.
And I don’t like your attitude.
Consider yourself fired.
Go find yourself a gutter to roll around in.

CARRIE
Not so fast, bitch.
We’re going to ‘take a meeting.’

GAY
I’m sorry, but my schedule’s pretty full.
Booked solid the rest of the month.

CARRIE
Not at your office, dummy.
You think I’m gonna walk into a trap?
Somewhere neutral.
I’ll let you know where.
And when. And watch your back.
One way or another,
I’m gonna getcha-getcha-getcha.

She hangs up. CLICK.
Drains the bottle. Wipes her mouth.
FLINGS it into the sea.
Slowly, carefully stands up.

CARRIE (CONT’D) (V.O.)
But first, let’s pay a little visit to the hospital.
Visiting hours are almost over,
and I need to go pay my disrespects.

Bondage Barbie

It's Friday, crimebusters ... and you know what time that is. Time to shake off your work-week blues, clean your favorite piece, and head out to the shooting range to blast away your blues. And be sure to pack some extra ammo, cause this gal's gonna blow your mind ... not to mention your target.

Screened an odd one last night. Brian DePalma's SNAKE EYES, with a newly-minted mainstream action superstar Nic Cage. S trange film. Liked it, but it was a little ... convoluted. Gary Sinise was great as a ... oh, wait a minute ... don't wanna spoil the big surprise. But he was great. Interesting device that DePalma has used before -- show a crime, then go back and re-watch it from different perspectives, each one revealing another piece of information. Very slick script by David Koepp -- almost too slick. Cage YELLING his lines in the first ten minutes ... was almost too much, but then it settles down and the story starts to cook. My favorite part of the flick was the always yummy Carla Guigino as the femme fatale. Why is she not a big star? Gorgeous, funny, vulnerable ... my god. She'd make a perfect Carrie Love.

Speaking of Carrie Love. Let's dive into today's little gem from WILSHIRE BOULEVARD.


DISSOLVE TO:

A SMALL TELEVISION SET
in a tiny motel room.
Seen from the next room.

COCKY, SMILING ANCHOR (V.O.)--
linking the murder weapon to a Ms. Carrie Love,
36, former Santa Monica homicide detective,
now a private investigator --

CARRIE’S FACE
fills the screen. Damn, she looks angry.
But cute.

COCKY, SMILING ANCHOR (V.O.) (CONT'D)
If you see this woman, call your local precinct immediately.
And stay away. This is one dangerous lady.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Lady, my ass.

INT. SHITTY MOTEL ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Carrie stands in front of the bathroom mirror.
A towel around her shoulders.
Her hair is now bleached-blonde white.

CARRIE
Brigitte Nielson, eat your heart out.

She grabs a pair of hair clippers.
Holds it to her head.

CARRIE (CONT’D)
Time to get all Britney Spears on their asses.

And starts CHOPPING OFF her long, beautiful hair.

CARRIE (V.O.) (CONT'D)
Maybe I sleep around.
But that doesn’t make me a bad person.
Sue me. I was drawn that way.
I didn’t fucking KILL anyone.
Okay, maybe I like a cocktail now and then,
but I’m not a fucking MURDERER.
And okay, so I like to bend the rules a little.
But that’s no reason to FRAME me.
(beat)
So fuck all of you.
You don’t want me around, FINE.
I’ll buy myself a one-way ticket to Splitsville.
Do the disappearing tango on your asses.
I’ll go to Frisco, do a Dashiel Hammett.
Find a Continental Opp-ortunity.

She’s done. Hair in blocky, spiky chunks.
She slides on shades. Sneers at her reflection.

CARRIE (V.O.) (CONT'D)
But first, time for the eulogy.

EXT./INT. LA BREA AVENUE - PHILLIE’S HUMMER - AT THAT MOMENT
Phillie drives. Peers over at Chinette, staring out the side window.
Pensive. Dabs her eyes with a tissue.

CHINETTE
Big surprise?
I’m not sure I’m in the mood for a --
big surprise.

PHILLIE
Nonsense.
Nothing is too good for my little whippoorwill.
(sees something)
We just have to make one quick stop.

THE MOTEL STARLET
comes into view. A real dive.
Irony be thy name.

THE HUMMER
pulls into the parking lot. Stops.

PHILLIE
turns to Chinette.

PHILLIE (CONT’D)
Now wait right here.
I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail --

CHINETTE
Okay.

He kisses her. Gets out.
POPS open the rear door.
Grabs a long, rolled carpet wrapped with duct tape.
Bloodstained. Hefts it onto his shoulder.
Looks up at the sign.

PHILLIE
The Motel Starlet.
You can’t make this shit up.

Phillie looks around. Coast is clear.
He carries the body around the back of the building.
TOSSES it in a dumpster.

PHILLIE (CONT’D)
And that’s a wrap --

EXT. VACANT LOT - RUINS - MOMENTS LATER
Carrie stands in the driveway behind what once was her home.
We can’t see her eyes behind the shades.
But we know they’re bleeding, black with pain.
She gingerly walks through the rubble.

CARRIE (V.O.)
I don’t know what compelled me
to visit my own, private ground zero.
I was inexplicably drawn to what would rip me apart.
Like a gambler to the table, a junkie to the needle --
(beat)
This was my first real home on my own.
After I split with Bernie,
I combed the beach until I found that
hundred-year-old bungalow on
one of the prettiest walkway streets.
Then I painstakingly decorated it from top to bottom.
Filled it with what gave me pleasure.
I discovered a creativity I didn’t know I had.
It was my palace, a den of color, joy --

Carrie bends over.
Picks up a burned, ruined Barbie.

CARRIE (V.O.) (CONT'D)
People asked me how the Barbie thing got started.
(she tosses it, keeps walking)
When I first moved here from New York,
I knew exactly two people in town.
And they both lived forty-five minutes away.
I soon learned that everyone lived forty-five minutes away.
(beat)
So I was in the supermarket my first night
here buying a few necessities,
feeling a little alone,
and they had these Barbies on sale there at the register.
What you call an ‘impulse purchase.’
I thought, ten bucks each, what the fuck, so I got two.
The checkout clerk said, ‘that’s sweet, you have kids?’
When I shook my head no,
she looked at me like I was some kind of pervert --
and I knew I had found my calling.
That night I set them up in my kitchen and on my bar,
and never looked back.
(beat)
Of course it wasn’t until a year later
when my porn star girlfriend tied one up,
stuck a ball gag in her mouth,
and named her ‘Bondage Barbie.’
(beat)
That was when things REALLY started getting interesting --

Grand Theft Auto

It's Thurdsay. Do you know where your children are? Your wife? Husband? Your PARENTS? Well, they're right here, sucked down in the bowels of the deep, dark underbelly of the city. Being held captive. Sucker-punched into a life of crime, here ... in That Killing Feeling ...

Screened Oliver Stone's WALL STREET last night for the first time in I don't know how many years, and loved it. Sure, it's cheesy and a little dated and VERY 80's, but it still works. Great cautionary tale of young buck Charlie Sheen (baby faced, pre-drugs and hookers) working his way into the good graces of Wall Street shark Gordon Gekko (Michael Douglas, in his first slimeball role, really chewing and spitting out the scenery, just great), and his, and Gekko's fall from grace. Also with Sean Young, Darrl Hannah, and tons of padded shoulder pads. Did I mention cocaine? What's an 80's flick with out coke? I hear Ollie's working up a sequel, (imaginatively called WALL STREET II), and I'm a bit scared, but you never know. Think his writing has gotten a little flabby over the years -- I mean, this is the guy who wrote PATTON, PLATTOON and SALVADOR ... and W? Hmmmm ... we'll just have to see ...

Onto today's shindig from WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, and it's a three-parter. Good times, kids.

Better buckle up. It's gonna be a bumpy ride.


INT./EXT. CARRIE’S RENTAL CAR - MOVING - AT THAT MOMENT
Sara Vaughn’s swingin’ cover of PETER GUNN over --
Carrie drives a vintage Dodge Dart Swinger.
Nondescript in shades and baseball cap that advertises some cheap booze.
She takes a long pull from a pint bottle.

CARRIE (V.O.)
It was the first time I played Grand Theft Auto.
The trick is to swipe an old beater that no one will report stolen.
Thank god I’ve got enough scratch to hide out for a while.
At least until I can clean up this mess.
(beat)
I could drain my savings account,
go down to Mexico like a grifter in some Ross MacDonald story.
Get a shitty motel room by the beach,
write that tragic, drunken confessional
that’s been oozing outta my pores.

She thinks. Takes a slug.
Picks up her cell. Dials.
Listens --

CARRIE (CONT'D)
Jenny?

SPLIT SCREEN WITH:
INT. YAVO/FLENDER FILMS - RECEPTION - AT THAT MOMENT
Jenny sits at her workstation. Sips coffee.
Shuffles the stacks of paperwork.
Murmurs into her headset.

JENNY
Carrie, hi. How are you?

CARRIE
I’ve been better.

JENNY
W-what’s wrong?

CARRIE
The cops want me.
I was framed for Flender’s murder.
They matched the bullets to my gun,
which someone STOLE. I’m in deep shit.

JENNY
(small voice)
You’re -- kidding.

ANGRY MALE VOICE (O.C.)
JENNY. Where’s the Crabb deal?
I can’t find the FUCKING CRABB DEAL!

JENNY
Modi, hold on I’m on the phone --
(to Carrie)
Just sit tight.
When I get home I’ll fix us some dinner,
and we can plan our strategy.

CARRIE
We? OUR strategy?

JENNY
Well, yeah -- I just thought -- since --

CARRIE
Listen, baby -- I’d love your help,
but do you realize how dangerous this is?
I can’t get you mixed up in this,
this is serious shit, and I --

Carrie gasps. Sucks in air.

JENNY
Shhhh, it’s okay, it’s okay.
Where are you now?

MODI (O.C.)
JENNY!

CARRIE
It’s best if you don’t know.
I’ll call you later when I get settled.
Just don’t tell anyone anything,
you don’t know anything --

JENNY
Okay, I understand, I gotta go, I’m --
(whispers)
Getting yelled at.

She punches a button.
Heart beating a mile a minute.

MODI
appears. Fists clenched.
Face beet red.

MODI
(hisses)
Get me that fucking file, stupid BITCH.

PUSH IN ON Jenny.
Frightened to death.

JENNY
S-sure thing, r-right away --

INT. POLICE HEADQUARTERS - LIPSHITZ’S OFFICE - AT THAT MOMENT
Larry leans forward in his chair. Stares at Bernie and Aya.
Standing before him. In trouble. Baleful.

LIPSHITZ
It was a simple task.
Just KEEP HER ON THE FUCKING PHONE --
long enough to GET A TRACE.

BERNIE
She's a cop, Larry. She knows the drill.
Despite being inebriated.
(beat)
She was a good cop once, you know --

AYA
Captain, may I have a word?

LIPSHITZ
You can have ten, twenty, a hundred.
But not here, not now.
We’ve got work to do,
and I don’t have time for your touchy-feely
psych-101 mumbo-jumbo.

AYA
But sir --

LIPSHITZ
Zip it, or you’ll be back on the kibutz
so fast your dreidel will spin like a top.
(beat)
Wait a minute --
(inhales)
You two are going to prowl the beach joints.
That’s her thing, right, Bernie?

BERNIE
Yeah. She used to say she got a nosebleed
if she went east of Lincoln.
There’s a few hotels and flea-bag joints we can check out.
Not to mention the gin joints on the boardwalk.

LIPSHITZ
Then hop to it. And find her, fast.
This is quickly becoming
a major embarrassment to the department.

BERNIE
Don't worry, chief. I'll find her.

LIPSHITZ
That's what I'm afraid of.

Cat Fight

Welcome back to the scene of the crime, hipsters. Gotta big, fresh, steaming slab of hardboiled pulp on the grill. So pull up a stool and place your order. Got deceit, murder and blood lust, fresh on tap. You want fries with that?

Screened a great flick last night -- Michael Mann's THIEF, starring Jimmy Caan and the ever-yummy Tuesday Weld. It was made in 1981, and still looks great. Awesome score by Tangerine Dream. It could have been just a typical heist flick, but not in the hands of Mann. Has a nice love story, too -- the scene with Jimmy and Wednesday in the diner is a classic. Brought a tear to this gal's hardboiled eyes. Great supporting cast with James Belushi (?) and Robert Prosky of Hill Street Blues fame. If you've never seen this great film, you're in for a treat. Check out the trailer on YouTube, then rent the sucker.

Onto today's joint from WILSHIRE BOULEVARD. Things get a little sleazy when Roland Yavo's transgendered daughter Nikki goes home -- and is confronted by her bitch of a mother. Things get pretty ugly ... and I'm talking about Nikki ...


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. Looks at Madea.

NIKKI (CONT’D)
Oh, Madea --
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 (CONT’D)
Five hundred DOLLARS.
You happy now?

NIKKI
walks in, carrying Madea
in her purse over her shoulder.

NIKKI
Hello, Mother.

GLORIA
(looks up)
Nicholas. WHY are you DRESSED like that?
You look RIDICULOUS.
And where’d you get that DOG.
It looks like a RAT.

NIKKI
This in my little baby, Madea.
How DARE YOU call her a rat.
she’s my precious.
(STOMPS her foot)
And 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 (CONT'D)
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 (CONT’D)
You can’t DO that!
I’m YOUR MOTHER.

Nikki goes to the staircase.
Stops. Turns.

NIKKI
Watch me.

Once an Outlaw ...

Greetings, crime scenesters. Time for your daily dose of hard-boiled pulp-noir, straight from the source. Time to get down and dirty, get your fet muddy, and your blood pumping. Lock and load, babe. Ask yourself, do you feel lucky? Do you? Well, do ya, punk?

Screened another classic last night -- TOUCH OF EVIL -- for the second time this year. Just had to see it again. Just astounded by Orson Welles' dark vision. It's a simple story, really. A nasty plunge into the lower depths of police corruption on the Mexican border. Welles is amazing as a fat, foul pig of a cop, a corrupt, alcohol-swilling bastard. (And you wonder why I like this film so much?) Charleton Heston is brilliant as a Mexican cop -- that's right, a Mexican -- but he pulls it off. Janet Leigh is scrumptious as his wife, and the rest of the cast is pitch-perfect. Hard to believe that Universal took away his final cut, did some reshoots, and originally released a bastardized version of this masterpiece. The opening crane shot -- 4 minutes long -- inspired both Scorsese and Altman to try their hand at this tricky feat. Welles was so incensed at this travesty that he wrote the studio a 58 page memo outlining what needed to be fixed. So -- here at last, is his reconstructed cut. Enjoy, and be amazed. Welles reall was a genius that was never truly appreciated.

Onto today's sequence from WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, and boy, does the plot thicken. Homicide dick Carrie Love, having been suspended from the force, is drowning her sorrows in a dive bar ... and then gets a call from her ex-partner/ex-husband Bernie Keko ... and then the shit REALLY hits the fan.


INT. THE OFFICE - 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 (CONT'D)
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 (CONT'D
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.

They DOWN them.

45 Caliber

I don't like Mondays. Not because that stupid song. Or because of having to go back to work, because I toil away right here, in my cyber-spider web of crime. It means the end of the weekend, and now it's back to murder, mayhem, unspeakable criminal acts of ... oh. Wait a minute. Mondays aren't so bad after all ..

Screened an amazing film last night, FROZEN RIVER. What a movie. Melisso Leo is INCREDIBLE as a white trash woman living on an Indian reservation near the New York/Canadian border, who, after her husband leaves her to go gambling -- with the money they've been saving to buy a new 'double wide' trailer -- resorts to smuggling illegal aliens over the border -- across, you guessed it -- a frozen river. To say anything more about the plot would spoil it, so I'm gonna shut up. A great, surprising thriller shot with no money (it looks terrible, but that doesn't matter) that unfolds in surprising, and eventually, satisfying ways. If it sounds dull, it's not. Pitch-perfect acting, locations and grungy art direction. SEE THIS FILM.

Time for today's joint from WILSHIRE BOULEVARD. It's a shortie, but a goodie. (The next sequence will be up tomorrow, and can't be split apart.) Homicide chief Larry Lipshitz, and detectives Bernie Keko and Aya Meir learn the identity of the Roland Yavo's shooter, based on the balistics report ... and it's none other than our heroine, Carrie Love. Oh, the horror ...


INT. SANTA MONICA POLICE HEADQUARTERS - LATE AFTERNOON
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

It's Sunday, crimestoppers. A day of rest? Not for this chick. Dead bodies are piling up -- and we haven't even gotten to the middle of the story. So kick back, light 'em if you got 'em, crack open a cold one, and get your butts IN HERE ...

Screened an old favorite of mine last night -- BARB WIRE, starring the glorious Pam Anderson. Back then, she still had the 'Lee' at the end. Ha. Poor Tommy. Buh-bye. Now I know the critics panned this when it was released, and it didn't do much at the box office, but you really should give this one a chance. I saw it opening night in Santa Monica on the Third Street Promenade, and the packed house LOVED IT. It's based on a comic book and the movie looks and acts like one. Pam can't act her way out of an air sickness bag, but that's not the point. It's just big, stupid, violent, cartoonish fun. She zips around wearing a leather corset on a motorcycle, blasting away all the bad guys with humongous guns. What else do you need?

Onto today's sequence from WILSHIRE BOULEVARD. The plot thickens. Then congeals. Onto the fun ...


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.

FLENDER
(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?
(thinks)
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.