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jack_babalonNarrator: WE NOW RETURN TO.... DIRTY*!
Int.- Big Moishe's McMansion. Day.
A swank deco lounge in Big Moishe's McMansion. We see BM, flanked by his two female bodyguards, sitting across from a seated Greg and a still disheveled looking Lockley. The loveseat they're sitting on is much too small to accommodate the two of them at once, but rather than one yielding to the other, they both sit squeezed in tight trying their best to look smooth.
BM: What is imperative is that you gentleman understand that I have no grievance with the police themselves. I really don't. Now I know of course that some of my associates don't share this view. They take your actions against them quite personally. But why should this be? Your average patrolman is just some poor schmuck trying to do his job, most likely biding his time until retirement while doing his utmost to keep his head down and avoid the attention of his superiors. (pauses thougtfully and takes a long sip off his drink). This is true of policeman the world over, I can assure you.
Greg & Lockley nod along in agreement, then both reach for their drinks on the coffee table but are hemmed in too tight to budge, a brief struggle and they both just lean back, forfeiting their drinks.
BM: (Continuing louder) But what I can not... WILL NOT abide is an informer! Now I don't care whether they're turncoats or deliberately placed agents... any man who makes his profession by infiltration and subterfuge no longer has a right to be called such, for he is no longer a man but rather vermin... and should be dealt with, as such.
Lockley: So whaddya want us to do?
Lockley lights up a cigarette, which is snatched out of his mouth by the zaftig guard who was just holding him off the ledge, who disposes of the smoke with a flick out the window.
BM: You're familiar with a Detective James Lowe? A recently retired undercover agent.
L: Yeah, we know 'em...
BM: Suffice to say that ten years ago his betrayal cost me a great deal. Not just in time and money, which though lamentable are both resources easily replenished... but his actions cost me the lives of some very close associates of mine. (pauses in reflection) You have to understand that to a man in my position, friends are the rarest of luxuries, ones not easily afforded or replaced.
L: So you want us to...?
BM: Ensure Officer Lowe receives a more... shall we say permanent form of retirement
L: Well there's somethin' you need to understand here, Moishe. This guy may be a rat to you... but to us he's a Brother.
G: A fellow Badge.
L: Not just any Badge either. A stand up guy. A real trooper.
G: A fuckin' Marine!
L: A real Mensch
G: Nice guy too.
L: Nicest guy on the Squad...
G: Never forgets a birthday...
L: Always there when you need 'em
BM: (Looks at them apprehensively) So, you're telling me you won't do it then?
(Rest)
L: No. No. Not at all. We're just sayin' it's gonna cost ya, this ain't some skell we're talking about here.
G: Like we said he's a brother...
L: and family don't come cheap.
BM: (Amused) Heh... very well. I'm sure we can come to a reasonable agreement...
G: Yeah well I just got one question before all that.
BM: Yes?
G: Why us? I mean you could easily have one of your Sex Ninjas over there do the job, right? (nods over at his two guards).
BM: (menacingly) I'm sorry... I don't think I caught that?
L: (Elbows G in the ribs furiously) What my partners tryin' to say here is that ahhh... a man of your influence could easily have this job taken care of himself.
BM: True. But where would be the poetry in that? (Sighs knowing they don't know what he means) In other words I believe it's only fitting that a traitor should die the way he lived: Through betrayal. That's where you gentleman will come in. Understood?
L: Of course...
G: Yeah, sure whatever...
BM: Excellent, now before we negotiate a price I'll need to inform you that I will be sending an observer to escort you.
L: I'm sorry...
BM: Don't be. It's merely a precaution. Though you too are the most reprehensible scumbags I've ever had the personal displeasure of having to do business with, I cannot risk either one of you suffering a sudden burst of conscience or, as is more likely the case, cowardice and having one of you attempt to warn Officer Lowe of my plans.
G: We work alone.
BM: You still will. Think of Rachel (motions to the woman on his left hand side) as an observer. Nothing more. (Smiles firmly)
L: Riiii-ght.
G: (whispering to L) This is bullshit man...
L: (whispering) I know. I know. Jes' roll with it for now. (to BM) Fine. The more the merrier. Now then... about our price.
*************
Int- a small modest apartment. Day.
It's a bachelor cop pad. A hallway leads to the living room with a small kitchen behind it and a bedroom to the right. We see James Lowe sitting in an E-Z chair wearing just his boxers, black socks & a wife beater. He's sipping on a beer and laughing along to an old Woody Woodpecker cartoon
James: Eh-heh-heh! Eh-heh-heh... heh-heh-heh-heh-heh...
James shoots a look down the hall, reaches under the cushion of the E-Z chair and pulls out an old school service revolver.
J: Who is it?
G : (speaking low) It's me. Greg. Open up I gotta tell you somethin'...
J: (Walks over to the door, peeks through the hole, sees only G but still doesn't open the door) Whatcha want?
G: (whispers) I don't have much time before Lockley figures out I'm here... jes open the door fer chrissakes.
J: No way. You got something to say, say it and go. In case you ain't heard I'm done with this bullshit.
G: Alright, alright... it's jes... well here's the thing...
J: Speak up!
G: (whispering) I can't... just... just listen up real quick.
J: Well then spit it out fer chrissakes I ain't got all day!
James puts his ear to the door. We hear a click-clack of a hammer pulled back and then a muffled gun shot fires through both the door and James ear. James is knocked back. Dead. A pool of blood and all that. Cut to door. We see the edge of a credit card bob in and out of the crack of the door, slide up and down until the lock is popped. Enter Greg, Lockley & Rachel.
L: C'mon, c'mon, c'mon ... get in. We ain't got all day.
Greg walks in. We see that he's wearing rubber gloves. He picks up J's body and drags him back over to the E-Z chair and struggles to lift him up and place him in it. L (also in gloves) closes the door behind them.
G: Hey, ya wanna give me a hand over here... this prick weighs a ton.
L: Yer jes outta shape.
G: Fuck you.
L: Don't talk to me like that.
G: What're you gonna do? Write me up for insubordination... quit bustin' my balls already and give me a hand.
G & L struggle with the body, trying not to get blood on each other but failing miserably, they keep putting the body in the chair wrong. Upside down one time, then facing the wrong way the other then slumped over the side awkwardly. Meanwhile Rachel just watches in disbelief at their incompetence. Finally L yells over to her...
L: Hey... whassyer name, Rachel right? Howzabout giving us a hand real quick.
R: Not my job.
L: Yeah well we'll all be outta here sooner than later if you can pry yourself from yer busy schedule and help out a little. (G drops his end of the body, so the head bounces off the floor with a sickening thud)
G: Ahhhhh man I got shit all over my shoes now.
L: (To Rachel) See what'm dealin' with over here? (pleading) C'mon lady...
Reluctantly she takes off her coat. We see she's got a 9mm sticking out the back of her pants. She steps over to G&L.
L: Here you take one leg and I'll take the other.
R complies, crouching down and with a grunt lifts her end up only to find that she now has two pistols pointed at her head from G & L.
R: What are you doing?
G: Whassis look like?
R: You really don't want to do this.
L: Think we're stupid, huh? Think we don't know what's going on. Your sugar daddy has us off one of our own and sends you along to baby-sit. Bullshit! This is a set up plain and simple.
R: I don't know what you're talking about. Lower your pistols and we can talk this out...
G: I'm not much for chit-chat right now. (to Lockley) Watch her a sec.
Lockley sticks the pistol into her forehead while Greg takes her 9, pockets it, cuffs her wrists behind her back and nods at his partner.
L: On your knees.
R: Fuck you!
G: Not tonight Honey... I got a headache.
Kicks her knees out from behind, she's kneeling now between the two of them and G lowers his pistol to her head.
L: Whoa- what're ya doing?
G: What's it look like I'm doing?
L: You're s'posed to use his gun genius, remember? Howzit gonna look to the crime lab if she gets whacked by an unidentified piece.
G: Alright, alright... (holsters his gun and pries the revolver out of James dead hand)
L: Okay then one more time from the top...
Greg lowers the revolver inches from her head and he shoots. But just as he fires Rachel rolls backwards, the bullet misses and grazes L in the side of the foot, as she rolls over she tucks her legs into her chest, slipping her cuffed wrists under her ass and over her thighs so when she comes back into a crouch her wrists are in front instead of behind her.
G: What the...?
L: (To Greg) Whaddya doin'?
Rachel lounges forward in a blur releasing a primal scream that startles them both momentarily. Rachel, with both hands clenched together into a fist, swings and belts Lockley across the chops hard, then spins to Greg and bashes him across the face with the edge of the cuffs. Then spins around again and drops a boot heel right into Lockley's nuts. He goes staggering back and trips over James corpse. Greg fires again. Misses. Takes out a coffee pot instead. Rachel ducks under a third shot and comes back driving her palms just under Greg's chin. He goes staggering back disorientated. Fires again at what should be point blank range. Rachel side steps in such a way so that the shot snaps the chain on the cuffs and hits nothing else. She smiles now but is suddenly yanked up as Lockley comes up from behind and get her in a bear hug. They both struggle as she tries to squirm free.
L :(Yelling) Now! Now!
G: Hold 'er still! I can't get a clear shot.
Greg steps up to get a clear shot. Rachel uses this chance to kick the gun out of his hand, then drives a heel down into Lockleys foot, then throws her head back and catches Lockley in the face. Lockley screams out ((his nose probably broken)) and releases his hold on her. She pivots around Lockley, grabs him by the arm and throws him toward Greg. Greg sidesteps out of the way, sending poor Lockley head first into the TV. Greg goes for his own piece, but Rachel is right there in front of him now and she grabs his wrist, twists and with a scream Greg drops the gun but manages with his other hand to get a good punch to Rachel's face forcing her to let go of him.
G: (Growling putting his hands up boxing style) You want some of this? Huh? HuH?
Rachel answers with a volley of jabs to Greg's face that sends him reeling back to the kitchen counter. Greg from this moment on only says two words to her over and over: "FUCK YOU!" He grabs some plates, cups, dishes and starts throwing them at her. They smash against her torso and she ducks the rest, coming in for a charge just as he picks up a wooden stool and slams it into the side of her so that it breaks across her body. She's still up though and drops another round of punches to Greg. Greg picks up another stool swings, but she catches this one, they struggle but she pries it free and throws it aside. Greg stumbles backwards, grabs a long black lamp, picks it up and starts jabbing at her like it was a spear.
G: Come on, Bitch! Come on...
Rachel sidesteps, grabs the lamp, throws a leg up and over it, snapping the lamp in two. Greg looks exasperated, not scared just tired. Rachel goes in for the kill but suddenly notices someone tapping on her shoulder.
Lockley: Yo! Ninja-Bitch!
She spins around to bash his head in again but gets a face full of teargas instead. Lockley empties the whole canister into her. Then, with James revolver, fires a single shot into her forehead. She falls back dead. Both Greg and Lockley are standing there trying to catch their breath. Greg leans back against the wall and slides down. Lockley just looks at Rachel incredulously.
Greg: Why's this shit always happen to us?
Lockley doesn't answer. He's trying to stop his nose from bleeding. Greg gets up and walks over to the kitchen. Searches frantically until he finds a bottle of liquor. Starts pulling shots. Offers some to Lockley who accepts. After a few moments they just stare at James body.
G: Lemme ask you somethin'
L: Was'that?
G: You think maybe we're bad people.
L: (Takes a long draw off the bottle finishes it. Sets it down. Wipes his chin and looks at Greg) Nahhh.... we're not bad people. We're jes' unlucky thas all.
Both nod.
L: C'mon lets get this shit cleaned up.
He wipes the revolver clean and puts it back in James hand. Greg starts moving Rachel's body.
FADE OUT.
*********
INT- Back in the Moishe's McMansion. Day
Moishe is sitting where he was before as Greg & Lockley stand in front of him giving their report.
L: ... so it's like we said. The guy was a fuckin' trooper.
G: A real marine.
L: He was all over us.
G: Like stink on shit.
L: If it weren't for yer girl...
BM: Her name was Rachel...
L: ... we'd be dead too.
BM: That's it?
(G&L exchange glances, shrug and nod at BM)
L: I'm so sorry for your...
BM: She knew the risks. We all do. But James Lowe is...
G: ...'retired'.
BM: (Nods. The loss was deep but acceptable) Very well... Emma, get their money. (Zaftig Henchwoman leaves). Gentleman. Please, have a seat. (G&L look at the seat, one another and decide to stand) I must make a confession, I wasn't sure you'd be able to pull it off. To be honest I thought of you as...
L: Reprehensible scumbags...
BM: Exactly.
G: Yeah, we're all full of surprises...
BM: So you are. (salutes them with his drink) So with Rachel gone I'm in the unenviable position of finding someone to replace her. Someone on the inside maybe? Two resourceful men like your selves could go far within my organization...
Knock on the door then a familiar voice from just around the corner of the room they're in.
Lady: DADDY!
Moishe gets up and a woman runs into his arms. Camera pulls back and we see that it's the lady from the bar in the opening scene sobbing hysterically.
BM: What is it, what happened?
Lady: It was horrible; it was just so horrible. These two men...
She sees G&L standing there and pulls out of BM's hug, points at Greg and Lockley and lets out a horrible accusatory scream.
CLOSE IN on Greg & Lockley who both give each other horrified looks of "WHAT NOW?"
Freeze the frame on that look.
Queue the music.
Roll the credits!
DIRTY, for those who don't know, is my friendinitiate's imaginary TV show (there was one episode that was made into a short film for the Atlanta Dailies - an independent film collective here in Atlanta). It's about two crooked cops who inexplicably find themselves knee deep in one bad situation after the next. Think of it as The SHIELD meets STARSKY & HUTCH. This is a guest written episode (part one) that i've written for his birthday. If you like this keep in mind his stories for the series are much better than mine and you should go over to his profile and harass him for more!
Int.- Big Moishe's McMansion. Day.
A swank deco lounge in Big Moishe's McMansion. We see BM, flanked by his two female bodyguards, sitting across from a seated Greg and a still disheveled looking Lockley. The loveseat they're sitting on is much too small to accommodate the two of them at once, but rather than one yielding to the other, they both sit squeezed in tight trying their best to look smooth.
BM: What is imperative is that you gentleman understand that I have no grievance with the police themselves. I really don't. Now I know of course that some of my associates don't share this view. They take your actions against them quite personally. But why should this be? Your average patrolman is just some poor schmuck trying to do his job, most likely biding his time until retirement while doing his utmost to keep his head down and avoid the attention of his superiors. (pauses thougtfully and takes a long sip off his drink). This is true of policeman the world over, I can assure you.
Greg & Lockley nod along in agreement, then both reach for their drinks on the coffee table but are hemmed in too tight to budge, a brief struggle and they both just lean back, forfeiting their drinks.
BM: (Continuing louder) But what I can not... WILL NOT abide is an informer! Now I don't care whether they're turncoats or deliberately placed agents... any man who makes his profession by infiltration and subterfuge no longer has a right to be called such, for he is no longer a man but rather vermin... and should be dealt with, as such.
Lockley: So whaddya want us to do?
Lockley lights up a cigarette, which is snatched out of his mouth by the zaftig guard who was just holding him off the ledge, who disposes of the smoke with a flick out the window.
BM: You're familiar with a Detective James Lowe? A recently retired undercover agent.
L: Yeah, we know 'em...
BM: Suffice to say that ten years ago his betrayal cost me a great deal. Not just in time and money, which though lamentable are both resources easily replenished... but his actions cost me the lives of some very close associates of mine. (pauses in reflection) You have to understand that to a man in my position, friends are the rarest of luxuries, ones not easily afforded or replaced.
L: So you want us to...?
BM: Ensure Officer Lowe receives a more... shall we say permanent form of retirement
L: Well there's somethin' you need to understand here, Moishe. This guy may be a rat to you... but to us he's a Brother.
G: A fellow Badge.
L: Not just any Badge either. A stand up guy. A real trooper.
G: A fuckin' Marine!
L: A real Mensch
G: Nice guy too.
L: Nicest guy on the Squad...
G: Never forgets a birthday...
L: Always there when you need 'em
BM: (Looks at them apprehensively) So, you're telling me you won't do it then?
(Rest)
L: No. No. Not at all. We're just sayin' it's gonna cost ya, this ain't some skell we're talking about here.
G: Like we said he's a brother...
L: and family don't come cheap.
BM: (Amused) Heh... very well. I'm sure we can come to a reasonable agreement...
G: Yeah well I just got one question before all that.
BM: Yes?
G: Why us? I mean you could easily have one of your Sex Ninjas over there do the job, right? (nods over at his two guards).
BM: (menacingly) I'm sorry... I don't think I caught that?
L: (Elbows G in the ribs furiously) What my partners tryin' to say here is that ahhh... a man of your influence could easily have this job taken care of himself.
BM: True. But where would be the poetry in that? (Sighs knowing they don't know what he means) In other words I believe it's only fitting that a traitor should die the way he lived: Through betrayal. That's where you gentleman will come in. Understood?
L: Of course...
G: Yeah, sure whatever...
BM: Excellent, now before we negotiate a price I'll need to inform you that I will be sending an observer to escort you.
L: I'm sorry...
BM: Don't be. It's merely a precaution. Though you too are the most reprehensible scumbags I've ever had the personal displeasure of having to do business with, I cannot risk either one of you suffering a sudden burst of conscience or, as is more likely the case, cowardice and having one of you attempt to warn Officer Lowe of my plans.
G: We work alone.
BM: You still will. Think of Rachel (motions to the woman on his left hand side) as an observer. Nothing more. (Smiles firmly)
L: Riiii-ght.
G: (whispering to L) This is bullshit man...
L: (whispering) I know. I know. Jes' roll with it for now. (to BM) Fine. The more the merrier. Now then... about our price.
*************
Int- a small modest apartment. Day.
It's a bachelor cop pad. A hallway leads to the living room with a small kitchen behind it and a bedroom to the right. We see James Lowe sitting in an E-Z chair wearing just his boxers, black socks & a wife beater. He's sipping on a beer and laughing along to an old Woody Woodpecker cartoon
James: Eh-heh-heh! Eh-heh-heh... heh-heh-heh-heh-heh...
James shoots a look down the hall, reaches under the cushion of the E-Z chair and pulls out an old school service revolver.
J: Who is it?
G : (speaking low) It's me. Greg. Open up I gotta tell you somethin'...
J: (Walks over to the door, peeks through the hole, sees only G but still doesn't open the door) Whatcha want?
G: (whispers) I don't have much time before Lockley figures out I'm here... jes open the door fer chrissakes.
J: No way. You got something to say, say it and go. In case you ain't heard I'm done with this bullshit.
G: Alright, alright... it's jes... well here's the thing...
J: Speak up!
G: (whispering) I can't... just... just listen up real quick.
J: Well then spit it out fer chrissakes I ain't got all day!
James puts his ear to the door. We hear a click-clack of a hammer pulled back and then a muffled gun shot fires through both the door and James ear. James is knocked back. Dead. A pool of blood and all that. Cut to door. We see the edge of a credit card bob in and out of the crack of the door, slide up and down until the lock is popped. Enter Greg, Lockley & Rachel.
L: C'mon, c'mon, c'mon ... get in. We ain't got all day.
Greg walks in. We see that he's wearing rubber gloves. He picks up J's body and drags him back over to the E-Z chair and struggles to lift him up and place him in it. L (also in gloves) closes the door behind them.
G: Hey, ya wanna give me a hand over here... this prick weighs a ton.
L: Yer jes outta shape.
G: Fuck you.
L: Don't talk to me like that.
G: What're you gonna do? Write me up for insubordination... quit bustin' my balls already and give me a hand.
G & L struggle with the body, trying not to get blood on each other but failing miserably, they keep putting the body in the chair wrong. Upside down one time, then facing the wrong way the other then slumped over the side awkwardly. Meanwhile Rachel just watches in disbelief at their incompetence. Finally L yells over to her...
L: Hey... whassyer name, Rachel right? Howzabout giving us a hand real quick.
R: Not my job.
L: Yeah well we'll all be outta here sooner than later if you can pry yourself from yer busy schedule and help out a little. (G drops his end of the body, so the head bounces off the floor with a sickening thud)
G: Ahhhhh man I got shit all over my shoes now.
L: (To Rachel) See what'm dealin' with over here? (pleading) C'mon lady...
Reluctantly she takes off her coat. We see she's got a 9mm sticking out the back of her pants. She steps over to G&L.
L: Here you take one leg and I'll take the other.
R complies, crouching down and with a grunt lifts her end up only to find that she now has two pistols pointed at her head from G & L.
R: What are you doing?
G: Whassis look like?
R: You really don't want to do this.
L: Think we're stupid, huh? Think we don't know what's going on. Your sugar daddy has us off one of our own and sends you along to baby-sit. Bullshit! This is a set up plain and simple.
R: I don't know what you're talking about. Lower your pistols and we can talk this out...
G: I'm not much for chit-chat right now. (to Lockley) Watch her a sec.
Lockley sticks the pistol into her forehead while Greg takes her 9, pockets it, cuffs her wrists behind her back and nods at his partner.
L: On your knees.
R: Fuck you!
G: Not tonight Honey... I got a headache.
Kicks her knees out from behind, she's kneeling now between the two of them and G lowers his pistol to her head.
L: Whoa- what're ya doing?
G: What's it look like I'm doing?
L: You're s'posed to use his gun genius, remember? Howzit gonna look to the crime lab if she gets whacked by an unidentified piece.
G: Alright, alright... (holsters his gun and pries the revolver out of James dead hand)
L: Okay then one more time from the top...
Greg lowers the revolver inches from her head and he shoots. But just as he fires Rachel rolls backwards, the bullet misses and grazes L in the side of the foot, as she rolls over she tucks her legs into her chest, slipping her cuffed wrists under her ass and over her thighs so when she comes back into a crouch her wrists are in front instead of behind her.
G: What the...?
L: (To Greg) Whaddya doin'?
Rachel lounges forward in a blur releasing a primal scream that startles them both momentarily. Rachel, with both hands clenched together into a fist, swings and belts Lockley across the chops hard, then spins to Greg and bashes him across the face with the edge of the cuffs. Then spins around again and drops a boot heel right into Lockley's nuts. He goes staggering back and trips over James corpse. Greg fires again. Misses. Takes out a coffee pot instead. Rachel ducks under a third shot and comes back driving her palms just under Greg's chin. He goes staggering back disorientated. Fires again at what should be point blank range. Rachel side steps in such a way so that the shot snaps the chain on the cuffs and hits nothing else. She smiles now but is suddenly yanked up as Lockley comes up from behind and get her in a bear hug. They both struggle as she tries to squirm free.
L :(Yelling) Now! Now!
G: Hold 'er still! I can't get a clear shot.
Greg steps up to get a clear shot. Rachel uses this chance to kick the gun out of his hand, then drives a heel down into Lockleys foot, then throws her head back and catches Lockley in the face. Lockley screams out ((his nose probably broken)) and releases his hold on her. She pivots around Lockley, grabs him by the arm and throws him toward Greg. Greg sidesteps out of the way, sending poor Lockley head first into the TV. Greg goes for his own piece, but Rachel is right there in front of him now and she grabs his wrist, twists and with a scream Greg drops the gun but manages with his other hand to get a good punch to Rachel's face forcing her to let go of him.
G: (Growling putting his hands up boxing style) You want some of this? Huh? HuH?
Rachel answers with a volley of jabs to Greg's face that sends him reeling back to the kitchen counter. Greg from this moment on only says two words to her over and over: "FUCK YOU!" He grabs some plates, cups, dishes and starts throwing them at her. They smash against her torso and she ducks the rest, coming in for a charge just as he picks up a wooden stool and slams it into the side of her so that it breaks across her body. She's still up though and drops another round of punches to Greg. Greg picks up another stool swings, but she catches this one, they struggle but she pries it free and throws it aside. Greg stumbles backwards, grabs a long black lamp, picks it up and starts jabbing at her like it was a spear.
G: Come on, Bitch! Come on...
Rachel sidesteps, grabs the lamp, throws a leg up and over it, snapping the lamp in two. Greg looks exasperated, not scared just tired. Rachel goes in for the kill but suddenly notices someone tapping on her shoulder.
Lockley: Yo! Ninja-Bitch!
She spins around to bash his head in again but gets a face full of teargas instead. Lockley empties the whole canister into her. Then, with James revolver, fires a single shot into her forehead. She falls back dead. Both Greg and Lockley are standing there trying to catch their breath. Greg leans back against the wall and slides down. Lockley just looks at Rachel incredulously.
Greg: Why's this shit always happen to us?
Lockley doesn't answer. He's trying to stop his nose from bleeding. Greg gets up and walks over to the kitchen. Searches frantically until he finds a bottle of liquor. Starts pulling shots. Offers some to Lockley who accepts. After a few moments they just stare at James body.
G: Lemme ask you somethin'
L: Was'that?
G: You think maybe we're bad people.
L: (Takes a long draw off the bottle finishes it. Sets it down. Wipes his chin and looks at Greg) Nahhh.... we're not bad people. We're jes' unlucky thas all.
Both nod.
L: C'mon lets get this shit cleaned up.
He wipes the revolver clean and puts it back in James hand. Greg starts moving Rachel's body.
FADE OUT.
*********
INT- Back in the Moishe's McMansion. Day
Moishe is sitting where he was before as Greg & Lockley stand in front of him giving their report.
L: ... so it's like we said. The guy was a fuckin' trooper.
G: A real marine.
L: He was all over us.
G: Like stink on shit.
L: If it weren't for yer girl...
BM: Her name was Rachel...
L: ... we'd be dead too.
BM: That's it?
(G&L exchange glances, shrug and nod at BM)
L: I'm so sorry for your...
BM: She knew the risks. We all do. But James Lowe is...
G: ...'retired'.
BM: (Nods. The loss was deep but acceptable) Very well... Emma, get their money. (Zaftig Henchwoman leaves). Gentleman. Please, have a seat. (G&L look at the seat, one another and decide to stand) I must make a confession, I wasn't sure you'd be able to pull it off. To be honest I thought of you as...
L: Reprehensible scumbags...
BM: Exactly.
G: Yeah, we're all full of surprises...
BM: So you are. (salutes them with his drink) So with Rachel gone I'm in the unenviable position of finding someone to replace her. Someone on the inside maybe? Two resourceful men like your selves could go far within my organization...
Knock on the door then a familiar voice from just around the corner of the room they're in.
Lady: DADDY!
Moishe gets up and a woman runs into his arms. Camera pulls back and we see that it's the lady from the bar in the opening scene sobbing hysterically.
BM: What is it, what happened?
Lady: It was horrible; it was just so horrible. These two men...
She sees G&L standing there and pulls out of BM's hug, points at Greg and Lockley and lets out a horrible accusatory scream.
CLOSE IN on Greg & Lockley who both give each other horrified looks of "WHAT NOW?"
Freeze the frame on that look.
Queue the music.
Roll the credits!
DIRTY, for those who don't know, is my friend
initiate's imaginary TV show (there was one episode that was made into a short film for the Atlanta Dailies - an independent film collective here in Atlanta). It's about two crooked cops who inexplicably find themselves knee deep in one bad situation after the next. Think of it as The SHIELD meets STARSKY & HUTCH. This is a guest written episode (part one) that i've written for his birthday. If you like this keep in mind his stories for the series are much better than mine and you should go over to his profile and harass him for more!![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2007-07-25 03:33 pm (UTC)