Easy Pickings

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 6 of THE HEISTERS, we flash back to earlier in our story ... where Kelsey meets her fellow heisters and starts planning the robbery ...


EXT. SURF MOTOR COURT MOTEL - DAY - FLASHBACK
A crusty, old ramshackle affair
just off PCH facing the ocean.

A row of tiny, shitty cabins
on each side of the office.

A sign blinks ‘No V can y’
in pale pink neon.

Kelsey’s beater pulls into
the gravel lot with a CRUNCH.

She parks. Gets out.
Walks over to the office.

INT. SURF MOTOR COURT MOTEL - OFFICE - DAY
A dump. A small fan tries to
push around the fetid air.

The GROTESQUE CLERK,
the white version of Precious,
looks up from her National Enquirer.
Shoves a Pringle’s in her gaping maw.

GROTESQUE CLERK
(shaking her head, munching)
Sorry. All full up --

KELSEY
I don’t need a room.
I’m looking for John Smith’s cabin.

GROTESQUE CLERK
(makes a face)
Another one, huh?
(off her nod)
Cabin ten.
On the right, at the end.

Kelsey nods. Leaves.
Grotesque watches her go.

GROTESQUE CLERK
Guess dey’re not queers, den --

EXT. MOTOR COURT CABIN - NIGHT - FLASHBACK
A faded, peeling, shitty,
tiny little ‘vacation’ home.

Kelsey walks up to the door.
KNOCK-KNOCKS on it. It OPENS.

Ronan Kenny stands there holding a beer.
Big smile.

RONAN
Come on in and pull up a log.

INT. MOTOR COURT CABIN - NIGHT - FLASHBACK
A tiny, cramped space,
dark with the shades drawn.

Kelsey follows Ronan in.
Eyes squinting.
Adjusting to the light.

Ronan looks at two MEN
sitting at a small table.

RONAN
Guys, this is Kelsey.
Kelsey Hazard.

KELSEY
(nods)
Gentlemen --
A large ITALIAN GUY (40’s)
gives her the once-over.

ITALIAN GUY
You said she was a pro,
but you didn’t tell me
she was fuckin’ HOT.

Meet LUDO DELUCA, failed restauranteur.
Expert chef. Not so expert at business.

Double chin and a belly.
Salt and pepper.

But good-looking,
in that mobster-looking kinda way.

KELSEY
(to Ronan, deadpan)
And you didn’t tell me
Pauley Walnuts was gonna be here.

A small, thin JEWISH GUY (50’s)
chuckles softly.

JEWISH GUY
Oy. And she’s a comedian.

Meet CHICK ABER, smooth-talking
pro heister from way back.

Dapper. Smart. With more than
a little of the Borscht Belt in him.

Smoking a cigar.
Eyes crinkled with mischief.

RONAN
(to Kelsey)
The goombah-goodfella on the left
is Ludo DeLuca, and the cheap,
Jew-bastard on the right here
is Chick Aber.

CHICK
'Jew-bastard?'
If my parents could hear you now,
rest their souls.

LUDO
Don’t listen to him.
I come from a family of restauranteurs,
NOT wiseguys --

Kelsey nods slowly.
Appraising them.
Sits on the bed.

KELSEY
Gentlemen --

Ronan walks over to her.
Hands her a bottle of beer.

KELSEY
Thanks.
So tell me about the job.

He smiles.
Leans against the kitchenette counter.

Takes a pull off his longneck.
Wipes his mouth with his sleeve.

RONAN
It’s a sweet job.
Easy pickings.
Low risk.

LUDO
It’s a rock concert --

CHICK
A charity event --

RONAN
At UCLA.
The Rose Bowl.

KELSEY
You want to knock off The Rose Bowl --

RONAN
It’s a cinch.
I worked security there.
I know the layout --
the box office, security,
the whole shebang.

KELSEY
But aren’t seats for that kinda thing
sold on Ticketmaster? Online?

RONAN
Usually, yes.
But not this one.
It’s a special benefit for disaster relief.
The tickets are bought on-site, that day.

KELSEY
Which disaster?

RONAN
That uh, earthquake thing.

KELSEY
You’re planning on ripping off
a CHARITY FUND-RAISER?

RONAN
Well, they’ve already raised
a billion dollars,
who’s gonna miss a million?

Kelsey sips her beer.

KELSEY
A million?
That’s a big score --
(beat)
Anybody asking ace shares?

LUDO
Nope. Equal split,
right down the middle.

KELSEY
Who’s bankrolling it?

RONAN
I am.
The job’s THAT good.

KELSEY
That’s very generous of you.

RONAN
I’m a generous guy.

Kelsey looks at him.
Narrows her eyes.

KELSEY
How many people on the job?

RONAN
We figure two more.
Muscle. Drivers.
So that’s six.

She nods slowly. Thinking.

RONAN
So whaddaya think?

KELSEY
What makes it low-risk?

RONAN
Well, we gotta way in.
We just need to take care of
the traffic jam afterwards
so we can get out.
There’s always a traffic jam
at these things.

KELSEY
How do we get in?

RONAN
The box office is old-school.
It’s got a gate.
You climb up over it
and get in.
Piece a cake.

KELSEY
So we just walk up
to the box office --

RONAN
No, no, no.
Here’s the beauty part.
We go in the night before.
Then wait until the morning.
The box office opens at seven,
and the concert starts at nine.
It’s one of those all-day things.
You know, like a festival.

KELSEY
I see --

RONAN
We just need help figuring out
the exit strategy.

Kelsey sips her beer.
Leans back against the pillow.

Closes her eyes.
A clock TICK-TICK-TICKS.

Everybody watches her. Thinking.
She opens them. Sits up.

KELSEY
Ambulance.
We rig up a fake one
and rescue somebody.

Ronan, Ludo and Chick
exchange glances.
Big smiles.

CHICK
The woman is a GENIUS.

KELSEY
Hey.
Why do you think I
make the big bucks?

Fucked-Up Daddy Fixation

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 5 of THE HEISTERS, career criminal Kelsey Hazard meets with crew leader Ronan Kenny to give him the bad news about the money from the score being stolen ...


INT. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
Your standard, bland touristy-tacky room
brought to you by the color beige.

Big painting of a ship at sea.
Cliche much?

Standing in the room is RONAN KENNY (40’s),
a big, burly block of Irish Spring.

Jet-black hair frames a face
that only a boxer could love.

Crude prison tattoos
dot faded grey skin.

He CRUSHES a can of beer.
Tosses it the trash can.
Stares at her meaningfully.

RONAN
I’d say it was great to see ya,
but since you’re gonna
give me bad news, I dunno.

KELSEY
Tell me about it.

Kelsey sees a YOUNG BLONDE CHICK (20)
sitting on the bed.

KELSEY
Who’s the frill?

RONAN
This is Becky.

BECKY
(gives a little wave)
Hey.

Meet BECKY FINE, party girl deluxe.
Your standard former cheerleader
now on a one-way bender
to hitting the skids.

Puffy, red-rimmed eyes
belie a soft expanse
of creamy skin.

BECKY
Well, aren’t you
going to introduce us?

Ronan pulls out his wallet.
Hands her some cash.

RONAN
Why don’t you go to the supermarket
and get us some more beer.
And get some chips.
Beef jerky.
That kinda shit.

BECKY
(pouts)
But the supermarket’s
fifteen minutes away --

He stares at her.
She stares back.

Then crumples.
Gets up.

Grabs her bag.
Goes out the door.

Slams it.
BANG.

KELSEY
Don’t tell me.
You met her on a job.

RONAN
Nah.
Believe it or not,
we’ve been dating a few weeks.
Got some fucked-up daddy fixation.
(motions to the table)
Enough chit-chat.
What happened?

They both sit.
Kelsey pulls out her smokes.

Lights one up.
Studies him carefully.

He stares at her,
stone-faced.

KELSEY
I went out for
ten minutes to get supplies,
come back, boy-toy is DEAD,
and the money’s GONE.

RONAN
Fuck.

KELSEY
Yeah.

RONAN
FUCK.

KELSEY
Uh, YEAH.

RONAN
Whaddaya think?
Was it someone on the crew,
or an outside job?

KELSEY
Smells like a civilian.
The kid was fucking STABBED
with a samurai sword in the neck.
He was fucking HARPOONED
to the bed.

RONAN
Shit --

KELSEY
Why would a burglar do that?
They just want to get in and out.
Must have been someone
that knew him, had a grudge.
Like an ex-lover.
Maybe it was a crime of passion.
And then they called the cops
so I would take the fall.
So they must have been watching us --

RONAN
Makes sense.
But just to make sure,
we should check out
the rest of the crew, don’tcha think?
Someone could be trying to make it
LOOK like a crime of passion.

KELSEY
Nah.
This smells like
amateur hour all the way.
If one of our crew did it,
they wouldn’t have killed the kid.
No percentage in it --
it would have turned
the heat up to ‘high.’
We need to gather everybody up
and work on this as a team.
(thinks)
DeLuca and Aber
are shacked up together.
I’ll get them first.
You track down Garza and Jones.

RONAN
Okay.

KELSEY
Good --

They stare at each other.
Something passes between them.

RONAN
Hey.
I just realized.
You counted it.
How much did we get?

KELSEY
A little over a million.

RONAN
NICE.
So we each get --

He frowns.
Trying to do the math
in his head.

KELSEY
About a hundred
and seventy-K each.

RONAN
Shit.
I could sure use
a hundred and seventy-K.

KELSEY
You and me both, doll.
(beat)
But first we have
to get it back --

The Land Of Celluloid Dreams

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 4 of THE HEISTERS, after discovering the money from the heist was stolen, career criminal Kelsey Hazard jacks a set of wheels and heads off to meet with her crew to figure out who the fuck took it ...


EXT. BEACH PARKING LOT - DAWN - FLASHBACK
Titles read ‘A FEW DAYS EARLIER.’

A handful of junky cars
sit parked overnight.

Kelsey walks up to a beat-up old Toyota sedan.
Looks around. No one.

She pulls out a long, thin
metal strip from her pocket.

Works in into the window.
POPS the door open. Slides in.

IN THE CAR
She deftly pulls a pair of wires
from the steering column.

Strips them with her teeth.
Presses the ends together.

The engine ROARS to life.
She hits the gas. Drives away.

EXT. PACIFIC COAST HIGHWAY - DAWN - FLASHBACK
A heart-stopping gorgeous view of the ocean.

Grey and blue waves crest into white
like knives in the bright blue sky.

The famed thoroughfare twists and turns
around the coastline.

Weaves through giant rock formations
as if on a dare.

ANGLE ON --
The crappy Toyota rumbles along
in the sparse traffic.

INT. TOYOTA SEDAN - DAWN - FLASHBACK
Kelsey sits behind the wheel.

Cigarette dangling on her lip.
Rakish in Ray Ban shades.

KELSEY (V.O.)
I’d been holed up in Santa Barbara
the last few months taking it easy.
Enjoying the local color.
Shellfish, surfing and sex.
(beat)
Not necessarily in that order.
(beat)
When I saw that I’d blown through
half the dough from the last job,
I knew it was time to
rustle up some more scratch.
And it was time to pay the bill
at my kid’s assisted care facility again.
Place is fucking expensive.
But it’s the best in the country.
What’s a mother to do?
(beat)
So I spread the word
through the grapevine
that I was looking
for some action.
Things were pretty quiet
for a while,
but then I caught a break.
I got a call from one of my go-betweens
that my old pal in LA Ronan Kenny
was putting together a
sweet little stadium job.
(beat)
So here I was,
on my way to the City of Angels,
the land of celluloid dreams.
Except this was no dream.
This was the real deal --
(beat)
Little did I know
it would soon become a nightmare.

EXT. BAY STREET - NIGHT
Kelsey walks briskly to
her stolen car of the moment.

A beat-up old Dodge Dart Swinger.
Gets in. Turns on the engine.

INT. DODGE DART SWINGER - MOVING - NIGHT
Kelsey pulls away from the curb.

Drives south on Bay Street.
Pulls out her cell phone.

KELSEY (V.O.)
We all use disposable
cell phones during a job.
That way there’s nothing to trace.
None of us knew where
we were holed up,
but we COULD call each other.

She fingers a number.
Listens.

KELSEY
Ronan, it’s me --
(listens)
Some fucked up shit just went down.
I need to see you.
(listens)
Not on the phone --
(listens)
I don’t want to take that chance.
(listens)
The Venice Motor Court.
On Speedway.
(listens)
I’ll be there in ten.

She clicks the phone shut.
Turns left at the next intersection.
Heads south.

We see flashes of the beach
between the buildings as she drives.

KELSEY (V.O.) (CONT'D)
The plan was, after the job
all six us would hole up
somewhere separately for a week or two
until the heat was off.
Problem was, we did the job two days ago,
so the heat was definitely still ON.

INT. VENICE MOTOR COURT HOTEL - CORRIDOR - NIGHT
Kelsey walks up to a door.
Knocks softly three times.
Then stops.

Then once again.
The door opens.
She goes in.

To Protect And Swerve

Hey there, crime kids. Happy Hump Day. 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 THE HEISTERS, career criminal on the lam Kelsey Hazard discovers her boy toy is dead and the money from the heist is missing ... but the shit really hits the fan when the cops show up ...


INT. BUNGALOW - BEDROOM - NIGHT
Kelsey RACES over to the closet.
Opens it. Looks.

She WHEELS AROUND.
Head whipping back and forth.
In a RAGE.

KELSEY
The MONEY --

She stops.
Closes her eyes.

Takes a deep breath.
Opens them.

Now blazing.
Full of FIRE.

KELSEY
(under her breath)
Somebody’s gonna DIE.

MALE VOICE (O.C.)
Police.
DON’T MOVE.

Kelsey turns, sees --

TWO POLICE OFFICERS
Standing in the doorway.

A GRIZZLED VET and a YOUNG ROOKIE.
Weapons drawn.

Kelsey expresses blank-faced surprise.
Rookie stares at the body.
Looks like he’s gonna puke.

KELSEY
You got here fast --

RED-FACED ROOKIE COP
What?

GRIZZLED VET COP
You called us?

KELSEY
Hell, yeah.
I go down to the corner
to get beer and smokes
and I come back and my
fuck-buddy’s been skewered
like a shish-ka-bob.
So I called.

She reaches for her pocket.
Red-Faced shakes his weapon.

RED-FACED ROOKIE COP
Don’t MOVE.

KELSEY
I was --
(gestures at her pocket)
Getting a cigarette?

GRIZZLED VET COP
(to Red-Faced)
Put your weapon down, Dunn.
It might go off.

He does, but still looks pissed.
Kelsey nods.

Pulls out a smoke.
Lights it.

KELSEY
You think I’d kill someone
and then stick around
until you got here?
(off their silence)
The bag with the receipt
is on the kitchen counter.
Two six-packs of beer,
and a carton of Marlboros.
Seventy-two bucks and change.

GRIZZLED VET COP
(to Dunn)
Go check.

Dunn nod.
Goes off to the kitchen to look.

GRIZZLED VET COP
Sorry about that.
He’s new on the force.

KELSEY
Don’t worry about it.
I’d be suspicious, too.

GRIZZLED VET COP
So what was your relationship
with the victim?

KELSEY
Jackie Tempel?
Like I said.
He was a fuck-buddy.
Met him in a bar
a couple of nights ago.
We’ve been shacked up
ever since.

GRIZZLED VET COP
You live around here?

KELSEY
From New York.
Here on vacation.

Dunn comes back in.
Looks sheepish.
But still pissy.

DUNN
It checks out, chief.
Receipt says the purchase
was made five minutes ago.

Grizzled Vet nods.
Stares at Kelsey carefully.

GRIZZLED VET
You check the closet?
Perp could be hiding in there.

KELSEY
I checked.
No one there.

GRIZZLED VET COP
(to Dunn)
Go take a look.

Dunn nods.
Goes to the closet.

KELSEY
You’re wasting your time --

The rookie opens the door.
Looks down.
Eyes go wide.

DUNN
Well, look at what we have HERE.
Machine guns, handguns --
a regular ARSENAL.
(turns and looks)
Cuff her, partner.
We got us a real --

Kelsey GRABS a book off the dresser.
HURLS it at Dunn’s head, CRACK.

He WHEELS BACKWARDS
into the closet, THWUMP.

She WHIRLS around.
KNEES Grizzled Vet in the groin.
He doubles over in pain.

She PUNCHES him in the throat.
Grizzled HITS the floor,
GASPING for breath.

Dunn starts to get up,
but Kelsey’s too fast.

She DASHES over to the closet
and KICKS him in the head.

He goes back down.
Out like a light.

Grizzled starts to get up,
still wheezing.

Reaches for his piece --
but Kelsey GRABS it and CRACKS
him on the head with it. THWUMP.
He goes down for the count.

She races over to the closet.
Grabs the pistols.

Stuffs them in her pockets.
Goes to the bed table.

Grabs the kid’s cell phone.
Heads for the door.

KELSEY (V.O.)
I hate fucking up cops,
but sometimes a gal’s gotta do
what a gal’s gotta do --

Death Becomes Him

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 2 of THE HEISTERS, career criminal Kelsey Hazard returns to her safe house with beer and cigarettes, only to discover her boy toy has been massacred and the money from the robbery gone with the wind ...


EXT. BAY STREET - NIGHT
We watch from the across the street
as Kelsey walks down
the sidewalk with her bag.

Heels CLICK-CLICKING
on the cement.

KELSEY (V.O.)
The name’s Hazard.
Kelsey Hazard.
I’m a heister.
(beat)
I steal for a living.
Big jobs, mostly.
Armored cars.
Stadium jobs.
Race tracks.
Even jacked a
coin convention once.
But no banks.
That shit’ll get you killed.
And besides,
it’s a federal offense.
I’ll stick with
the local heat, thank you.

She turns onto a driveway.
Starts walking up to a
Craftsman bungalow.

Once nice,
now crumbling in disrepair.

KELSEY (V.O.)
I do one or two jobs a year.
Then live off the take
the rest of the time.
I plan my jobs meticulously --
and I’ve never been caught.

Kelsey opens the front door,
goes in.

INT. BUNGALOW - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Dimly lit.

Decor, ‘early dorm room.’
She walks through into --

KELSEY (V.O.)
I’m completely off the grid.
Have never paid taxes.

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT
The kitchen, where she puts the smokes
on the counter.
The beers into the fridge.

KELSEY (V.O.)
As far as Uncle Sam goes,
I don’t exist --

She pulls off two cans,
walks into --

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT
Dark, with light spilling out
from an doorway at the end.
She walks toward the bedroom.

KELSEY
I’m back --
(beat)
Miss me?

Gets to the door.
Starts to walk in --

KELSEY
Rested up for the next round?

She looks, sees a YOUNG STUD (25)
propped up in bed.

A long SAMURAI SWORD
stuck in his neck.
Pinning him to the head board.

Blood everywhere.
Must have been SOME geyser.

KELSEY
NO!

Kelsey RACES over to the closet.
Opens it. Looks.

She WHEELS AROUND.
Head whipping back and forth.
In a RAGE.

KELSEY
The MONEY --

She stops.
Closes her eyes.

Takes a deep breath.
Opens them.

Now blazing.
Full of FIRE.

KELSEY
(under her breath)
Somebody’s gonna DIE.

MALE VOICE (O.C.)
Police.
DON’T MOVE.

Kelsey turns, sees --

TWO POLICE OFFICERS
Standing in the doorway.

A GRIZZLED VET and a YOUNG ROOKIE.
Weapons drawn.

Legs For Days

In Chapter 1 of THE HEISTERS, we meet career criminal Kelsey Hazard, who's just pulled off the perfect score, now holed up with a boy toy for a little R&R ...


EXT. SANTA MONICA - BAY STREET - NIGHT
A leafy side-street off the main drag. Quiet.
Bucolic. Small homes.

Some nice, some shitty.
The cheap seats. But safe.

A WOMAN (40) comes walking toward us
down the sidewalk.

Tough-looking, but very hot.
Cigarette dangling off blood-red lips.

Curves galore.
Legs for days.
Lips for nights.

Meet KELSEY HAZARD,
a tight, taught bundle of swagger.

Long chestnut hair tied tight in a ponytail.
Eyes flashing with that world-weary air
of someone who’s seen it all.

Several times.

She gets to the corner.
Starts walking across the street.

KELSEY (V.O.)
The job had gone well.
We’d made off with a little
over a million bucks.
All in all, not a bad haul.

Kelsey gets to the front door
of a small MARKET. Goes in.

INT. MARKET - NIGHT
Kelsey walks over the beer cooler.

Grabs a couple six-packs.
Takes them up to the register.

KELSEY (V.O.)
I’d been holed up for two days
with a low-level errand boy
for a local crew, and needed supplies.
(beat)
All that fucking makes a gal thirsty.

KELSEY
(to the clerk)
Can I get a carton
of Marlboro one-hundreds?

The AWKWARD CLERK (20) nods.
Reaches up above for the smokes.

KELSEY (V.O.)
We’d all been laying low
for a few days after the score
until the heat died down.

Awkward rings up the total.
Looks at the register.

AWKWARD CLERK
That’ll be seventy-two dollars
and thirty-eight cents.

KELSEY
(gives him some cash)
Fucking cancer sticks are gonna
break the bank one of these days --

AWKWARD CLERK
(takes it)
You should smoke generics, like I do.
Much cheaper.

She looks at him more closely.
Appraising.

KELSEY
You live around here?

AWKWARD CLERK
Uh -- yeah.
On t-tenth street.

KELSEY
(arches an eyebrow)
Maybe sometime we could --
work out a trade.

AWKWARD CLERK
Uh -- yeah. Sure --

KELSEY
(nods, big smile)
Later.

He stares.
She grabs her bag.
Starts for the door.

AWKWARD CLERK
Hey.
You forgot your change --

KELSEY
(over her shoulder)
Keep it.
Get yourself something nice.
Splurge.
Live a little.

And she’s gone.
Awkward watches her go.

Shakes his head.
Wow.

Sister Act

Hey there, crime kids. TGIF. 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 the exciting conclusion of LEGS, Episode 2, private eye Carrie Love finds out her client is fucking her brother, then bails her porn star girlfriend Laura Lang out of jail. Meanwhile, snuff filmmaker Klaus Speer reveals to his crew that Carrie is the star of his next opus ...


INT. CARRIE’S PORSCHE - MOVING - DAY
Carrie drives down Via Marina.
Fingers a number on her cell.

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. MARNIE’S MOTEL ROOM - DAY
Marnie and Yago lie in bed under the covers,
Yago fast asleep.

Marnie lights a smoke.
Smiles dreamily.

Her cell phone on the night stand
RINGS. She grabs it.

MARNIE
This is Marnie --

CARRIE
It’s Carrie.

MARNIE
How did it go with my dad and my brothers?

CARRIE
Not good.

MARNIE
What do you mean 'not good?'

CARRIE
They tried to escape,
we followed them to the airport and --

MARNIE
They’re dead, aren’t they.

CARRIE
I’m so sorry, Marnie.

MARNIE
Are you kidding?
That’s fucking GREAT.

CARRIE
Excuse me?

MARNIE
Now I can be with Yago.

CARRIE
Isn’t he -- your brother?

MARNIE
He’s actually my half-brother.
We have different mothers.

CARRIE
That’s why he was living
at the safe house --

MARNIE
Yeah.
When my father found out about us,
he moved Yago there and
started monitoring my every move.

CARRIE
Why didn’t you tell me about this
when we first talked?

MARNIE
Would you have taken the case?

CARRIE
Good point.
(beat)
Wait a minute.
You WANTED me to kill your father, didn’t you.
That was the plan all along, wasn’t it?

MARNIE
Thanks, Carrie.
You’re one hell of a private eye.
Send me your bill, okay?
Laters, baby.

She hangs up.
Carrie looks at the phone. Sighs.

Pulls out a flask.
Takes a long swig.
Wipes her mouth with her sleeve.

CARRIE (V.O.)
How do you like that.
Sneaky little bitch.
And I’ve got no way to prove it.
(another sip)
Growing up in a fucked-up family
not only fucks you up,
it fucks up every relationship
you have for the rest of your life.
It’s like you’ve been imprinted
with this dysfunctional DNA.
You can do years of therapy,
but it’s still there,
lurking under the surface.
Watching. Waiting.
Ready to fuck things up.
(beat)
Look at who I worked with on this case.
My ex-husband and the girl I left him for.
Codependent much?
And my latest client?
Fucking her brother? Hello?

She drains the flask.
Sticks in her jacket pocket.

EXT. MARINA DEL REY - SHERIFF’S STATION - DUSK
A small, brick building right on the water.
Carrie’s car pulls into the small parking area in front.

CARRIE (V.O.)
And how about my girlfriend?
When I hear the phrase
‘healthy, adult relationship,’
the image of bailing someone
out of jail usually doesn’t come to mind.

INT. SHERIFF’S STATION - DUSK
A small, cluttered, drab lobby.

A BORED-LOOKING FEMALE DEPUTY
sits behind the counter.
Carrie hands her a check.

CARRIE
Here you go.
Promise it won’t bounce.

BORED-LOOKING FEMALE DEPUTY
(takes it)
You sure know how to pick ‘em, honey.
(picks up the phone, dials a number)
Alex, it’s Latifah.
Someone’s just posted Laura Lang’s bail.
Can you bring her out?
(listens)
Better not let the chief
hear you talk like that.
(hangs up, to Carrie)
It’ll just be a minute.
(low, conspiratorial)
So what’s the sex like with a porn star?

CARRIE
If I answer that,
you’ll have to arrest me.

A side door opens,
and out comes Laura.

Makeup smeared, hair a mess.
Eyes red from crying.
She RACES into Carrie’s arms.

LAURA
Carrie --

CARRIE
(hugs her tight)
It’s okay, baby.
It’s gonna be okay.

LAURA
(a whisper)
I’m so glad you’re here --
it was terrible --
they were so mean to me --

They hold each other a long beat.
Then Carrie pulls away.

CARRIE
You wanna stop somewhere
on the way home and pick up
something to eat?
You must be starving.

LAURA
(low)
Honey, I got all I want to eat right here.

LATIFAH
I heard that.

INT. CARRIE’S PORSCHE - MOVING - DUSK
Carrie and Laura drive home,
both munching on cheeseburgers and fries.

Laura says something.
Carrie BURSTS out laughing.

INT. PRODUCTION STUDIO - NIGHT
A dimly lit studio crammed with
postproduction equipment.

We hear the faint thump-thump-thump
of tweaker club music somewhere nearby.

KLAUS SPEER (50’S), German,
Jeremy Irons on Prozac and
JOREL AMIN (30’s), beefy, black as night,
sit in front of the monitor.

CRIMSON (20’s) Gothic-gorgeous
and totally pierced pleads her case.

CRIMSON
It would mean so much to me, Klaus.
Saturday night is the Equinox,
and I'm supposed to be the sacrifice.

KLAUS
You should have told me earlier.
There's no time to find another hostess.
I can’t find a replacement on such short notice.
I'm sorry, my little rose petal.

CRIMSON
Yeah, right.

And she's gone.

KLAUS
The things I have to do
in the name of dominance and submission.

Klaus punches a button on the DVD player.
A disc slides out.

JOREL
Roll it, Mein Herr.
I'm chubby already.

KLAUS
(takes out disc, grabs another)
And I thought you were just glad to see me.
(shoves it in, giggles)
We hit the fucking lottery with this one.

KLAUS (CONT'D)
I like the part where she hits the tree.

He PUNCHES a button.

ON THE MONITOR
A steep incline high in the Hollywood Hills.

A young GIRL (18) gagged and wearing a bikini
on Rollerblades comes FLYING down the road.

She takes a sharp turn,
FLAILS her arms wildly --
PLOWS into a tree with a CRACK --
and FLOPS to the ground.

KLAUS
Breaks out into a big, perverted smile.

KLAUS
Her first starring role -- and her last.

JOREL
Boogie Night, Roller Girl.
What about the next one?
You said you shot some B-roll stuff.

Klaus grins.
Presses EJECT.
Takes out the disk.

Grabs another.
Puts it in.
Presses PLAY.

KLAUS
Ah, yes -- my little actress.

ON THE MONITOR
We see hand-held footage
looking through a window --
of Laura and Carrie,
making love on the floor
of her living room.

KLAUS (V.O.)
Now that’s what I call 'cinema verite' --