Friday, May 13, 2011

Detective Rusty Trombley

So i wrote this scene for the creative screenwriting cyberspace open. it will never be produced, as such i thought i'd post it here so you, my friends, can read it and enjoy and wonder to yourself what the hell i think i'm doing writing shit like this? don't psychology my shit you motherfuckers- just read and enjoy and if you have something you'd like to say about it, go ahead. 
the format is way off because i don't know how to load PDFs to the facebook. 


FADE IN:
INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT
A GIANT space filled with meat hooks dangling off chains
from the giant ceiling, wood chippers pointed into giant
dumpsters, and big ’ole rolling plastic bins filled with
mangled flesh - BABY HUMAN FLESH.
A red mist hangs throughout the vastness of the room -
undoubtedly airborne particulate leftovers from the dead
baby grinding operation. PRIVATE DETECTIVE RUSTY TROMBLEY -
thirties - complete with his signature fedora and trench
coat - stands in the middle of the room taking in the
HORROR.
RUSTY
Good Christ.
Tears well in his eyes and he VOMITS a stream of pinkorange
chunder onto the smooth cement floor.
He recovers, begins to survey the room in detail.
RUSTY
Goddamn you, Mrs. Beardsley! You
sick bitch! I made it on time! I
made it on time you fucking skank!
A tantrum grows from within and he KICKS a rolling bin. It
skitters off. He FLIPS another one over, spilling its mushy
filling onto the floor. The smell hits him and he holds back
another stream of vomit.
RUSTY
(yelling)
We had a deal you lying cunt!
SHRUNK! The elephant door at the far end of the room rumbles
open. Rusty pulls his sidearm and takes cover behind a meat
grinding table.
WOMAN’S VOICE (O.S.)
Detective Trombley?
Rusty stands up, looks toward the door. It’s JENNA JANINE -
a late twenties vixen - dark hair bun, thin shirt and really
sexy glasses. She’s cautiously waiting by the door.
JENNA
Detective Trombley?
Rusty approaches her.
RUSTY
I thought I told you to stay at
home.
JENNA
What is this place?
Jenna notices the dead babies and HEAVES into a nearby bin
of babies. Seeing that she’s just vomited on a pile of dead
babies, she turns her head and SPEWS onto the floor.
RUSTY
This isn’t the type of place for a
lady.
He gives her his handkerchief to wipe her mouth.
JENNA
Oh please. Look at my physique. I
puke like three times a day.
RUSTY
I meant the babies.
Jenna is overcome by sadness.
JENNA
Do you think that my little Jake is
here?
RUSTY
Mrs. Beardsley said I could have
him back if I came to this address.
I didn’t know she was being so
literal.
Rusty grabs a plastic apron and a set of gloves off the
wall, starts to put them on.
JENNA
What are you doing?
RUSTY
You hired me to find your son. I’m
going to do it.
He leans into a bin and grabs a baby. Holds it up.
RUSTY
Is this him?
Jenna BURSTS into tears and PUKES again.
JENNA
No.
Rusty tosses it aside, grabs another baby, holds it up.
RUSTY
How about this one?
She wipes her mouth but the tears are streaming.
JENNA
No.
Rusty sighs, tosses it aside, grabs another.
RUSTY
Him?
Jenna shakes her head, weeping so intensely she can’t form
words.
RUSTY
Look sweetheart, this could take
all night. Why don’t you grab a
smock and some gloves and dive in?
I mean as long as you’re here.
She steels herself.
JENNA
You insensitive prick. These are
babies!
RUSTY
(yelling)
Well they all look alike to me,
okay? Every one! They all look like
little greased up aliens and if the
smell in here weren’t so goddamn
terrible I wouldn’t be so fucking
sick and in a hurry to get out!
JENNA
So you’re just gonna comb through a
warehouse of dead babies, one by
one until you find mine, then wash
your hands of it and go home?!
RUSTY
(yelling)
That’s all there is to do! You
hired me to find your baby, who I
thought was missing, but as it
turns out, is probably just dead.
And I let it die. I failed. So now
all I can do is find that little
thing and give it to you so you can
have some closure.
JENNA
You’re quitting.
RUSTY
I didn’t sign up to discover and
destroy an international baby
killing ring. I was in my office,
minding my own business when you
sauntered in all sweaty and cry-ey,
which are two MAJOR turn ons for
me, and asked me to help you find
your son. I didn’t go looking for
you!
JENNA
You’re attracted to me?
RUSTY
Oh come on! How many detectives
open car doors for their clients?
How many detectives send flowers,
or buy dinners, or break into your
house when you’re sleeping just to
watch and make sure you’re safe?
JENNA
What?
RUSTY
You’re a cute sleeper.
JENNA
Rusty--
RUSTY
Maybe I should go. I’m sorry. I
failed you and I failed me and I
failed my job. I’m worthless.
Rusty peels off the plastic gear, wipes a tear from his
cheek, takes one last look at Jenna and walks out.
JENNA
Rusty.
He keeps walking.
JENNA
Rusty.
Nothing.
JENNA
Rusty Trombley, you stop this
instant!
That worked. He turns to see what she has to say.
JENNA
The worst day of a mother’s life
isn’t the day she gets home from
Starbucks and realizes she left her
kid there.
RUSTY
Oh?
JENNA
No. The worst day is the day she
drives all the way back down the
canyon and the kid is gone - taken
by an international baby killing
ring. But the next day I met you,
and every day since has been a
little bit better.
RUSTY
Oh?
JENNA
Because of you. I know I only hired
you to find my son. And I’m pretty
sure he’s here somewhere.
RUSTY
I was thinking about that, they
probably already mushed him up. If
you want, I could grab a bucket --
JENNA
Shut up. Shut up, Rusty, I’m trying
to tell you I might love you.
RUSTY
You shut up.
JENNA
No. I’m serious. I love you,
Detective Rusty Trombley.
RUSTY
Private Detective.
JENNA
Whatever you are, I love you.
They begin to walk slowly towards each other.
RUSTY
I love you too, Jenna. I’m sorry
about--
JENNA
Me too, but maybe all of it
happened for a reason? Maybe my
son’s purpose on earth was to be
kidnapped by an international baby
killing ring so I’d hire you to
find him and we’d fall in love and
make more sons.
They are close, embracing, leaning in, about to kiss.
JENNA
But to prove that it was fate and
not dumb luck; before you and I can
consecrate our love and have tons
of sons, I need to know that
whatever I push from my uterus wont
be subject to the same fate as my
first born.
RUSTY
What?
JENNA
Kill Mrs. Beardsley and we can --
RUSTY
Can’t we just fuck now and I’ll
have forty weeks to kill her?
Jenna looks around at all the dead babies and killing
utensils and general nastitude.
JENNA
Don’t ever say ’can’t we just fuck
now?’ in a room this full of dead
babies ever again.
RUSTY
Gotcha.
JENNA
Now go put a bullet in that cunt’s
twisted fucking head.
RUSTY
I’ll do anything for you, Jenna.
Rusty pulls his gun out, checks the magazine, cocks it and
re-holsters it.
He tips his hat, winks, GRABS Jenna around the waist, dips
her and plants a huge sexy kiss on her.
He stands her up, tips his hat again and struts out.
RUSTY
I wont fail you again, my love.
FADE OUT:

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