BITCHES WITH KNIVES by Dan O'Sullivan

[email protected] 585.315.2499 FADE IN:

INT. BOTTLE’S BOTTOM – NIGHT A bar, small but bustling with life. The door opens, and in walks NASHA ROGAN, 25, and TAYLOR DIGGS, 24. Both beautiful and brunette, both with black eye-liner, and both looking... well... their trashiest. They move to the bar counter and slink onto some open stools toward the end. TAYLOR You really shouldn’t be here. NASHA Seriously -- make like a bulb and lighten the fuck up. TAYLOR You said you were gonna cut back on the drinking. NASHA I say a lot of things. Besides -- what the hell else are we gonna do tonight? Nasha waves to JOEL, 40’s, the bartender at the other end. NASHA (CONT’D) Joel! Two Buds. TAYLOR You could do the job you were supposed to do. Nasha pulls a crumpled pack of cigarettes out and shoves the last one in her mouth to light it. NASHA Fuck the job. Joel steps over, placing the bottles in front of them. JOEL Hey -- Reese was here earlier lookin’ for ya. NASHA And fuck Reese! 2.

TAYLOR It’s bad enough you’re gonna have Kimball all over you for not doing the job you’re supposed to be doing at this moment but now you’ve gotta deal with your prick ex? NASHA Well, Kimball and Reese can go ram each other for all I care. I’m having a drink. TAYLOR We’re in here fucking ourselves with beer bottles when you owe too many people too much money not to be doing this job. A BAR PATRON a few seats down starts to get into a sickly coughing fit, practically hacking up a lung as Nasha cringes. NASHA Look, Taylor -- the job will get done when it gets done. And until then, both Reese AND Kimball won’t do Jack diddly Daniels shit. So take a pill. Everything’s cool- cool. Taylor takes a deep breath and drinks, casually looking around until her eyes stop at the door, where CAMILLE RODGERS, 23, female, enters. She’s blonde, busty, beautiful and well-dressed for the wrong environment. In tow are CAMILLE’S FRIEND #1 and CAMILLE’S FRIEND #2, females, 20’s. TAYLOR Oh, shit. NASHA What? TAYLOR Don’t look now, but Camille just came in with the plastic pussy patrol. Nasha looks and quickly slumps her shoulders, blocking the side of her head with a hand. NASHA Fuck. TAYLOR Something I should know about? 3.

NASHA Well, I, uh... her sister and I... you know... TAYLOR Jesus, Nasha -- give her one MORE thing to be pissed at you about. Ya know, one of these days someone’s gonna snip your tongue out for sticking it in the wrong places. Camille and Camille’s Friends walk over to them. CAMILLE Listen, you no-good nickel-worth clitty-licker trash -- your people, and my people, DO NOT MIX. So stay the fuck away from my sister. NASHA Isn’t Bottle’s Bottom a little too downtown for you, Camel? Shouldn’t you be out somewhere making yourself available as some frat guy’s penis depository? CAMILLE The name is CAMILLE, bitch. Why don’t you be a little more cleverly immature? NASHA Sorry -- just the name I’ve heard. All the humps and spitting. CAMILLE Well, I guess YOUR name would’ve been more elegantly presumptuous if your mother was never filled by some dirty Portuguese cock. NASHA Hey, your sis came onto ME, honey. CAMILLE I don’t give a shit HOW it happened. All you have to know is that she’s not some two-bit sleazy lesbo like you, so stay the fuck away. 4.

NASHA You sure all this big sister anger isn’t really a cover for something that runs in the family? ‘Cause you can vacuum my carpet any time, honey. CAMILLE In your dreams, you skanky gutter slut. Tell me -- is your lesbianism only a recent thing or was momma packin’ pussy into your lunchbox in elementary school? JOEL Easy, girls. No trouble tonight. NASHA Hey, Joel -- when did you move this place to Egypt? A camel seems to have wandered in here. CAMILLE Oh, you think you’re funny? One hilarious trailer skank comedian. NASHA Well, your sis did enjoy my stand- up act more than my lie down. CAMILLE Go to hell! Camille turns and walks away with Camille’s Friends following. Nasha chugs the rest of her bottle and dabs the cigarette out in a tray. Taylor shakes her head. TAYLOR God, what a prissy cunt. NASHA Yeah, I feel bad. I shoulda bought her a beer. Nasha grabs her empty bottle and gets up, hurrying over toward Camille. NASHA (CONT’D) Hey, Camel, wait up! Let’s talk about this; I’ll buy you a round. Nasha smashes the bottle over Camille’s head, dropping her to the floor. Camille’s Friends quickly start to tackle Nasha. 5.

TAYLOR Goddamn it... JOEL Not again, Nasha! Taylor jumps from her seat and plows into Camille's Friend #1, hurdling her back into the jukebox. Nasha punches, pulls and kicks Camille's Friend #2. Taylor yanks her back by her hair, pulling her off. The other BAR PATRONS get rowdy by cheering it on. Camille, on her back, wildly claws at Nasha on top. They roll across the floor. Taylor and Camille's Friend #2 crash against some tables, shattering some of the glasses on top. Nasha clenches her teeth and balls her fist, sucker-punching Camille directly in the face. She starts to pound on her over and over. Camille’s face is bloodied in seconds. As Nasha lifts her red fist back to thrust again, FREEZE FRAME -- INSERT TITLES: “NASHA” BACK TO SCENE Nasha’s fist resumes its strike, cracking Camille in the nose again. Taylor throws Camille's Friend #2 to the floor. As she gets on her hands and knees, Taylor hops forward and punt- kicks her in the face with a FREEZE FRAME -- INSERT TITLES: “TAYLOR” BACK TO SCENE The kick resumes, sending Camille's Friend #2 back into some chairs. Taylor grabs Nasha’s shoulders, pulling her up. TAYLOR Come on! Let’s split! Nasha spits down on Camille, hurrying out with Taylor.

EXT. BOTTLE’S BOTTOM – CONTINUOUS Taylor and Nasha plow through some walking people and run down the sidewalk, constantly looking over their shoulders. They skid into a parking lot and over to a P.O.S. car, where Nasha unlocks the driver’s door. Taylor waits on the passenger side, banging her hand on the roof. TAYLOR Hurry the fuck up! 6.

INT. NASHA’S CAR – CONTINUOUS Nasha gets in and reaches over, unlocking the passenger door as Taylor jumps in. Nasha starts the car and they peel out of the lot. After a moment, Nasha slaps the steering wheel. NASHA Oh SHIT! Taylor jumps, fanatic. TAYLOR What?! NASHA That was my last cigarette. Taylor takes a breath of relief.

EXT. MINI-MART – LATER Nasha’s car pulls up to a small twenty-four hour mini-mart. She gets out with Taylor and they walk toward the building.

INT. MINI-MART – CONTINUOUS A CLERK, male, 20’s, sits behind the counter. TAYLOR Ya know, you’re gonna have to do SOMETHIN’. You don’t want a nine- to-five and you don’t want to run dirty jobs for people like Kimball. NASHA Money’s everywhere. Just a matter of how you get it. (to Clerk) Pack of smokes and a Lucky Bucks lotto. (to Taylor) Fuck Kimball and the money and jobs I owe him and fuck a counter job. (to Clerk) Sorry. CLERK You can have mine if you want. She pays the Clerk and starts to scratch the lotto ticket. 7.

TAYLOR It’s amazing with all the money you already owe to all the people that already hate you, your expense budget allows you to support the California state lottery. NASHA Point made, noted and erased. I told you everything’s under control. God -- you were never like this when we dated. TAYLOR Because you never got into shit you couldn’t shovel your way out of. I just can’t believe you’re not taking some of these people you owe more seriously. Nasha finishes scratching the card and squints her eyes, confusingly staring down at it. TAYLOR (CONT’D) What? What’s wrong? NASHA I didn’t drop acid with my beer, did I? Tell me I just didn’t win that. Taylor looks over the card, face growing more serious. TAYLOR Oh my God. Is this... is this right? Match three to win? NASHA That’s what I thought it said. TAYLOR You just -- holy shit. You just won. Holy shit, Nasha! You just won a hundred thousand dollars! NASHA I fucking won! TAYLOR Oh my God, you fucking won! Nasha and Taylor ecstatically start to jump up and down, squealing and shrieking and grabbing each other’s arms. 8.

NASHA I fucking won! (to Clerk) I just won a hundred thousand dollars! TAYLOR You’re rich! You are so RICH! Nasha grabs the back of Taylor’s head and lays a hard, long kiss on her lips. The Clerk’s mouth drops as he stares. CLERK Damn... I wish girls would win the lottery here more often...

INT. NASHA’S CAR – MINUTES LATER Nasha, driving, punches the steering wheel and proudly shakes the ticket in her hand. NASHA A hundred thousand! Look at that! Six digits, baby! TAYLOR Goddamn... you never think it would happen to you, and bam -- you’re one rich bitch. (beat) So... ya know... I was just thinking... after you’ve cashed the ticket and had all your sexy fifteen-minute fame on TV and are living in a decent house without wheels -- If you ever get... lonely... and need someone to help fill up space in your guest room or whatever, then... NASHA You know I wouldn’t dog you like that. You’re like, my best friend. We’ve been through a lot. You know there’s nobody else I’d rather live with. Taylor hides her blushing. Nasha playfully reaches over and hits her arm. NASHA (CONT’D) Now if you’d cut all this sappy happy mushy Polly Princess shit (MORE) 9. NASHA (CONT’D) out maybe we can start talkin’ about how we’re gonna spend this mother-fuckin’ money after I pay off all these shit-heads. Taylor chuckles, grabbing the lotto ticket from her and starting to rapidly tongue the bottom corner of it. Nasha laughs and grabs it back, turning her radio up louder.

EXT. NASHA’S TRAILER HOME – MINUTES LATER Nasha’s car pulls up alongside her decent-sized trailer, a total shithole among a plethora of other shithole trailers.

INT. NASHA’S CAR – CONTINUOUS Nasha puts it in park and turns off the engine. TAYLOR You wanna hang for a bit? NASHA Nah. Just gonna make some calls to some of my auspicious debt collectors. Let ‘em know I can pay ‘em up now. Nasha gets out. Taylor follows.

EXT. NASHA’S TRAILER HOME – CONTINUOUS Another car parked down the street hits its headlights on. Nasha and Taylor start to walk toward the trailer home. TAYLOR You sure that’s a good idea? I mean, you can’t turn the ticket in ‘til at least tomorrow, so you start telling people you hit it big tonight they’re gonna know that and have an inclination to stop by looking for it. If I were you, I’d sleep with it up your ass or somethin’. The car hits the gas full-on, squealing the tires as it roars down the street. Nasha and Taylor turn their heads to it. A few FIGURES emerge hanging out from the open windows. They start to fire automatic guns. 10.

NASHA SHIT! Nasha and Taylor run as bullets blaze, hitting the trailer. A few plant pots are blasted away. Nasha and Taylor dive down behind the porch, taking cover. The car passes and the tires screech as it takes off. Smoke sifts through the air like a fog. A dog barks. Nasha zips her eyes and peeks her head over. Taylor sits up and looks around, then sets her eyes on Nasha, who gets up and wipes herself off. TAYLOR So which one of your many “auspicious debt collectors” do you think that was? NASHA Fucking Kimball. He’s the only one who has the balls to pull somethin’ like this! TAYLOR You see? This is what happens when you borrow money from the wrong kind of people and don’t pay it back when they want it. NASHA I really don’t need a lecture right now, Taylor. TAYLOR I think you should spend the night at MY place to be safe. NASHA Fuck that. I’m going inside to call him and chew his ass out. TAYLOR And piss him off even MORE so he can send another dose of bullets through your windows while you’re having a wet dream? Forget it. I’m not leaving unless you leave with me. Taylor stubbornly crosses her arms and looks away. Nasha steps over and puts a hand on her. NASHA Look, I’m gonna sort this shit out, all right? I’ll be okay. I swear. 11.

Taylor takes a deep breath, flickering concerned eyes. TAYLOR Call me the second something comes up. For ANYTHING. NASHA Thanks. Now go home. Nasha gives her a hug and kiss on the cheek. Taylor turns and steps off the porch, walking down the street. Nasha sighs as a piece of the trailer’s awning falls beside her. She grits her teeth and opens her door.

INT. NASHA’S TRAILER HOME – CONTINUOUS Nasha steps up inside. Messy and unorganized, promoting her trashy image even more. She peeks out one of her windows through the blinds. She shakes her head and pulls her phone out, dialing.

INT. KIMBALL’S HOUSE – BASEMENT - SAME TIME KIMBALL TRENT, late-20’s, lifts his head up from snorting coke on a table. He’s dressed nicely, money well spent. His cell phone rings, and he picks it up with a FREEZE FRAME -- INSERT TITLES: “KIMBALL” BACK TO SCENE Kimball puts the phone to his ear. INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION NASHA What the fuck do you think you’re doin’ comin’ at me with a drive-by attempt like you’re some kinda nigger thug or somethin’?! KIMBALL Hey! I’m the only one who has a right to be pissed right now. It’s like you’re really giving me no other choice. NASHA No other choice?! What the fuck, man?! You are the most impatient prick I know! 12.

KIMBALL What would you do in my position, Nasha? Huh? You owe me money, and don’t have any. So I give you a few jobs to run. And then you don’t do the jobs. So what do you expect? NASHA For your information, you dickless irrational white Tupac wannabe -- tried my luck at a scratch-off lottery ticket tonight and I’m now a hundred thousandnaire. KIMBALL Of all the shit that could reverse its way from your ass to out of your mouth... NASHA Yeah, I wouldn’t believe me, either. Guess you’ll have to watch the TV and papers the next few days to see my smiling pussy-sucking lips during news interviews. Kimball sighs, holding back anger as he clenches his fist. KIMBALL If you’re fuckin’ with me right now I swear to God I’ll drive over there myself and bury a bullet in your forehead. NASHA Look... I was gonna call you. I swear. You know screwing you over isn’t my style; otherwise I’d already be gone. (beat) So don’t blow a stress vessel. Sit back, pump some more sugar up your nose and I’ll have your money for you ASAFP. With double interest, if that makes your ass happy. Kimball sits back and thinks, tapping his knee. KIMBALL I want your twatty-dippin’ fingers dialing my number as soon as you cash that shit in. We clear? 13.

Kimball closes his phone. Nasha hangs hers up and pulls out the lottery ticket, smirking.

EXT. NASHA’S TRAILER HOME – CONTINUOUS A car pulls up to the trailer home. The door opens, and a FOOT steps out onto the grass.

INT. NASHA’S TRAILER HOME – CONTINUOUS A KNOCK comes from the door. Nasha cautiously peers out the window, letting out an agitated sneer. She opens the door. REESE CALUM, mid-20’s, steps up inside, cigarette butt dangling from his mouth. He’s good looking, a little muscular, short black hair with a chin goatee. REESE Hi, honey. I’m home. As he removes the cigarette butt from his mouth and flicks it, FREEZE FRAME -- INSERT TITLES: “REESE” BACK TO SCENE The cigarette butt continues to soar through the air, bouncing across the carpet as Nasha tries to stomp it out. NASHA What the fuck, man?! You trying to burn my fucking place down? Reese scans his eyes across the disastrous mess. REESE I’d be doin’ you a favor. Maybe if your pussycat wasn’t so inclined to wander then you could’ve ditched this mobile hell-hole and been livin’ with ME. NASHA Yeah, Reese? Well, I assure you -- getting my pussycat fixed wouldn’t have solved HALF of our problems. REESE Whatever. Play the blame game all you want. You didn’t have to fly back to the fairy dyke kingdom. 14.

NASHA Better than the animal kingdom like you with your annoying little parrot. But I guess every ass- pirate has gotta have a mascot on his shoulder, right? REESE Don’t stand there and deny that YOUR beak hasn’t lost its taste for grade-A old-fashioned manly dick. NASHA Is there a reason you’re here bothering me right now? Reese scratches his nose, looking away. REESE I, uh... I’m a little strapped for cash. Look -- I wouldn’t fucking be here if I knew anyone else to ask. NASHA No, you wouldn’t fucking be here if you had any brains to remember my financial status before tonight. You know that Kimball Trent sent a drive-by after me tonight because of what I owe him? God knows what anybody else is planning. REESE What do you mean, “before tonight”? Nasha leans against the counter and crosses her arms, flashing him a cool look as she rolls her tongue. NASHA Let’s just say MY financial troubles are over with. REESE What’d you do, land first place in a pussy pie eating contest? NASHA Stick your rod into an electric socket. REESE Seem to remember lighting YOU up a few times. 15.

NASHA A hundred K on a scratch-off lottery ticket. Reese lets out a quick smirking laugh, shaking his head. REESE You are somethin’ else, ya know that? Least you could come up with something more inventive. Nasha pulls the ticket from her pants and shakes it. NASHA You see, I don’t give a donkey dick damn whether you DO believe me or not, because frankly, honey -- I don’t have to anymore. He inquisitively steps over and reaches out for the ticket. She jerks it back, sliding it into her rear pocket. REESE You’re serious. You’re really deadly serious. That’s a winning ticket. Lemme see it, then. NASHA You can kiss my furry fuckin’ bush. Maybe I’ll invite ya to my house- warming party. REESE What’re you gonna do with all that money, huh? After you’ve paid off everybody, you’re gonna have a hefty sack of pennies left over. What’s the harm of lending some to an old boyfriend? NASHA Because you’re a bad investment. Sorry to disappoint ya, buddy, but there is no “us” in the word “money”. There’s damn sure a “me”, though. REESE I could triple it in no time. NASHA Yeah, with your fancy little drug dealer dreams. I’d stick to small- timing. (MORE) 16. NASHA (CONT'D) You’re fuckin’ THAT up enough as it is. Now -- if you wouldn’t mind deploying your sorry ex-ass outta my soon-to-be ex-trailer home, I’ve got a night of masturbation celebration to get started on. REESE All right. Okay. You won’t help me, that’s cool. I’m an asshole for the shit I did to you. At least lemme help start that celebration by throwin’ down a drink with you before I watch you give the finger to this place. For old time’s sake. She stares at him for a moment and contemplates. NASHA Then you leave? He kisses his fingers and crosses his heart. She sighs and shakes her head to herself as she turns to the sink, grabbing a liquor bottle. She twists the cap off and pours some into a shot glass, handing it to him. She pours the remainder into another for herself. NASHA (CONT’D) God, you really are an asshole. He smirks and raises the glass to toast without a return. He gulps it down and sets the glass aside, watching her walk away and bend over to pick up some clothes from the floor. He looks at the empty liquor bottle on the counter. NASHA (CONT’D) If it wasn’t enough that you converted me back to lesbianism, now you’re gonna have me spending most of the money emotionally perfecting my alcoholism. Nasha does her shot. Reese quickly scurries over and grabs the liquor bottle, smacking her across the back of the head as she topples to the floor unconscious. He drops the bottle, crouching down to nudge her. She doesn’t move. He picks her up and heaves her onto the bed stomach-side, reaching into her rear pocket to pull out the ticket. He looks it over and gives a shocked grin. He tucks it in his pocket and turns away before doing a double-take back to Nasha and her... very tempting rear end. He thinks and steps forward, undoing his belt buckle. 17.

EXT. TRAILER PARK – DAY Some EARLY MORNING RISERS are up and about. An old man sits on his trailer porch in a wife-beater and shorts, belching with a breakfast-of-champions beer bottle in hand.

INT. NASHA’S TRAILER HOME – CONTINUOUS Nasha, face down, groans as she awakens, brushing some hair from her face. She rubs her nose and holds her head. NASHA Shit... She swallows and rubs her head, looking over her shoulder to freeze at the sight of her bare legs. She reaches down and lifts her shirt a little, revealing her bare ass. NASHA (CONT’D) What the fuck...? She notices her pants crumpled on the floor. As she moves to get up, she sharply stops and groans again, immediately grabbing her ass. NASHA (CONT’D) Ah, shit! She grits her teeth and grabs the pants, fighting to climb in as she shimmies them on. She sees the empty liquor bottle on the floor and picks it up, staring at it. INSERT: FLASHBACK: Reese knocking her over the head with it from behind. BACK TO SCENE She drops it to the floor. NASHA (CONT’D) Son-of-a-bitch... She realizes something and frantically pats her pockets, reaching inside. She jolts up and zips her head around. NASHA (CONT’D) Son-of-a-bitch! She throws items, scrounging and digging. NASHA (CONT’D) Fuck! Mother FUCKER! 18.

She throws a plate across the room.

EXT. REESE’S APARTMENT – LATER Nasha’s car screeches to a halt in front of a duplex in a crummy neighborhood. She gets out and stomps her way across the lawn, up onto the porch. She pounds her fist against the door. No answer. She tries the knob, but it’s locked. She angrily kicks the door. NASHA FUCK! REESE! YOU FUCKIN’ MOTHER FUCKER!!! She kicks it over and over, slamming her fist with rage. NASHA (CONT’D) FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! She kicks the door again and stammers back to her car.

INT. NASHA’S TRAILER HOME – LATER Nasha paces. The door opens and Taylor steps up inside. TAYLOR So what’s up? What’s wrong? NASHA I’m a hundred thousand dollars poorer, that’s what’s fuckin’ wrong! TAYLOR What? Did Kimball and his guys come back last night? NASHA No, but fuckin’ REESE did! Showed up after you left and stole the goddamn ticket! TAYLOR He WHAT?! How the hell did THAT happen? How could you let him do that?! Nasha picks up the liquor bottle and shakes it. NASHA I didn’t! The prick knocked me out from behind! 19.

Nasha tosses the bottle aside and plops herself onto the couch, burying her head in her hands. NASHA (CONT’D) I got so fucked up the ass. TAYLOR Well, yeah, I’d think that someone stealing your winning lotto ticket would be pretty bad... NASHA No, I mean literally -- he knocked me out, stole the ticket and fucked me up the ass. TAYLOR What are ya gonna do? Call the cops? NASHA There’s no proof. It was an instant win scratch card that I bought with cash. There’s no way to prove it was ever mine to begin with. TAYLOR So what then? Sit on your dick- pounded ass and let him get away with it? Screw that. Let’s go to his place. Right now, me and you. Kick his teeth out with some bitch power and take back the ticket! NASHA I already went. He’s not there. Went to cash it in, no doubt. Taylor’s optimism drops as she sits on the couch. NASHA (CONT’D) This is bullshit, ya know? I deserved that money. I mean -- I’ve done a lot of fucked up shit and I’m not the best model citizen, but even I deserved somethin’ good comin’ to me, and now it’s gone. TAYLOR What about Kimball? How are you gonna pay him off now? 20.

NASHA I doubt he’ll take McDonald’s Monopoly game pieces. TAYLOR Look, let’s just ditch. Let’s get out of here. Out of L.A. We can drive anywhere. Start new. I’ll go with you. NASHA To where? Taylor gives a soft shrug, dropping her eyes to the carpet. TAYLOR I dunno... maybe... Miami Beach? I heard it’s really nice there. Pretty sunsets. It’s clear across the country. NASHA And what do I get outta that? TAYLOR Uh, your life? NASHA What kinda life is getting fucked over like this on a daily basis? I’m tired of being the fuckee. Why can’t I ever be the fuck-ER? (beat) Life isn’t Miami Beach sunsets, Taylor. It’s one long sexual shin- dig without the payoff of an orgasm. Taylor’s eyes hang to the floor. She looks at Nasha and tries to perk a comforting face. TAYLOR Least ya still got ME... Nasha stands, taking a deep breath. NASHA FUCK!!! Nasha angrily kicks the liquor bottle across the floor and it shatters upon hitting a wall. She frustratingly shoves her way out the door. Taylor solemnly watches. SERIES OF SHOTS: 21.

- Nasha drives through the city with dispirited eyes. - Nasha walks down the sidewalk and stops to look at the front page of a newspaper in a machine. The headline reads “Local Man Hits Big Instant $$$” with a picture of Reese. Nasha kicks the machine and keeps walking. - Nasha looks through the front window of Reese’s apartment to see the completely dark and empty interior. - Nasha sits on a counter stool in Bottle’s Bottom drinking a beer and holding a lit cigarette. She takes a drag and dabs the ashes into the tray, resting her head in her other hand.

INT. NASHA’S TRAILER HOME – DAY Nasha and Taylor sit on the couch watching TV. Nasha sighs and lifts the remote, changing the channel. INSERT: TV: The news with an ANCHORWOMAN behind a desk. ANCHORWOMAN -- as that continues. In health news, the City of Angels seems to be officially entering the hurricane wave of flu season as local pharmacies are seeing increased sales in medicines flying off the shelves, so if you get that tickle in the back of your throat, be sure to play it safe so you can play in that gorgeous weather out there. Now let’s go to our top story today with a local resident who recently won big on a scratch- off lotto card. Tina Jenners is on location. TINA JENNERS, female reporter, stands outside of a shopping mall with a microphone next to Reese, who has PARRY, a green parrot, sitting on his shoulder and a small crowd around him. TINA JENNERS (to camera) I’m here with recent local lottery winner Reese Calum, who raked up one hundred thousand dollars off an instant scratch card earlier this week. And boy does he have a glowing smile. (to Reese) Doing some shopping, Mr. Calum? 22.

REESE Yeah, ya know, just pickin’ up a big screen TV or two to hang in my new place. BACK TO SCENE Nasha clenches her teeth as she watches. INSERT: TV: Parry flaps his wings. PARRY Raaawwwk! Big money time, bitches. TINA JENNERS Oh my -- seems like your little green friend here is just as excited about your luck. Did you just pick him up as well? Reese gives Parry a soft pet on the back. REESE Nah. Parry’s been with me for a while. Gonna fly the high skies of success with me now. TINA JENNERS So how does all this make you feel? What was your reaction when you noticed that you had a winning ticket? REESE Oh, man -- on top of the world, baby. On top of the world. BACK TO SCENE Nasha’s breathing grows increasingly rapid. INSERT: TV: Tina Jenners smiles and nods. TINA JENNERS And is there a particular someone out there you’d like to give a one hundred thousand dollar smile to? Maybe a special girl? REESE I think if she’s out there watching right now, she can bet her bottom that I credit her completely for my luck. 23.

He looks to the camera and smiles, winking. Tina Jenners turns to the camera as Reese leaves with the crowd. TINA JENNERS And there you have it. Lucky young Reese Calum and his one hundred thousand -- BACK TO SCENE Nasha grinds her teeth and quickly reaches under her pillow cushion, pulling out a handgun to shoot the TV set four times, completely destroying it in a frenzy of sparks. Taylor scrambles back against her end of the couch, squeezing the armrest as she stares wide-eyed at the TV. TAYLOR What -- the FUCK?! Nasha takes a few deep breaths and stands, pacing. NASHA Sorry. Had to get that out. TAYLOR What the fuck are you doing with a gun under your couch cushion?! NASHA What? It’s for protection. TAYLOR Were you ever planning on informing me about this, or were you just gonna let me sit there another twenty times until my vagina ate a surprise lead bullet lunch? NASHA Hey, better safe than sorry, especially with all the shit we go through. TAYLOR No, you mean especially with all the shit that YOU go through that you always somehow involve ME with. Taylor rests a hand on her forehead, rolling her eyes. Nasha sighs and leans against the counter. NASHA This sucks major balls! Tell me that doesn’t piss you off! (MORE) 24. NASHA (CONT'D) Seeing him rubbing it in my fucking face! And I hate that stupid-ass bird of his! What kind of a name is “Parry”? That’s what a fucking four-year-old would name their parrot. (beat) I don’t deserve this. He’s not gonna get away with this. Not this time. TAYLOR What are you gonna do about Kimball? He’s gonna come for you. NASHA I don’t give a shit. Look, I don’t wanna deal with this right now. Let’s go to Bottle’s Bottom and get fucked up. TAYLOR Go to a regular place where he knows to find you. THAT’S a great idea. NASHA Fine. Then let’s go and score some grass. TAYLOR You think a strip club will be any safer? NASHA I meant the OTHER kind of grass. I just wanna get blazed and forget about this bullshit for a while. TAYLOR I can’t. Some of us have an actual job to go to. NASHA Come on -- be a rebel for once and blow off that shitty record store to take a trip up the beanstalk, Jack. I’m sure the five total customers will understand. TAYLOR Fuck you, skank! The boss is away and left me in charge of the place. (MORE) 25. TAYLOR (CONT'D) He said if I did good he might even consider giving me a promotion to assistant manager. NASHA Well, you have fun on your “queer career woman” quest. I’m gonna go get toasted. Nasha grabs a pack of cigarettes from the counter and heads for the door. TAYLOR If you’re not too ripped later and can find it, can you pick me up from the store after I close? Nasha sticks her middle finger downward and shakes it. NASHA I’ve got a new record for ya -- Can you hear it? Want me to turn it up for you? Nasha turns her hand upright to flick Taylor off and leaves. Taylor struggles for a good response. TAYLOR (mumbling) Yeah... Like THAT’S original...

EXT. APARTMENT COMPLEX – NIGHT NASHA leans against her car outside of a crummy apartment complex, finishing off a cigarette. Another old beat-up car pulls up behind hers. CHAZ SHEFFER, 27, gets out. He’s a bit scruffy with a five-o’clock-shadow. NASHA Jesus fuckin’ Christ Almighty; Look who decides to finally show! CHAZ I’m sorry, I’m sorry. NASHA You know I’ve been waiting here for you for forty-three fuckin’ minutes? I wanna light up before I have to pick Taylor up from work later. 26.

CHAZ Relax, it’s worth the wait. Best around. NASHA I’m fuckin’ serious, Chaz. I need to jump a joint like you wouldn’t believe. Chaz starts to lead her across the street. CHAZ What got up YOUR ass? NASHA Reese Calum. CHAZ Oh, shit -- you hear he won the lottery? Nasha snivels as they enter the complex.

INT. APARTMENT COMPLEX – LOBBY - CONTINUOUS Chaz brings Nasha up some stairs. CHAZ All right, listen -- when we go up to see Rasta-Mon -- NASHA Rasta-who? CHAZ Rasta-Mon. The guy you’re buying the weed from. He’s Rastafarian but since no one can understand how to pronounce his fuckin’ name, everyone just calls him “Rasta- Mon”. Anyway, when we’re up there, just act cool. NASHA Please. ME, not act cool? I INVENTED cool, dick-knocker. I’m a goddamn Antarctic Disco Ice Queen Mother Fucker. 27.

INT. APARTMENT COMPLEX – HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS Chaz leads Nasha down the hall to a door. Music can be heard thumping from inside. CHAZ Gimme a break, Rogan. It’s like red wire, blue wire with you. Nobody knows when you’re gonna snap. Just -– don’t piss anybody off. Please? Nasha rolls her eyes and gestures for him to knock on the door. He sighs and does so. RASTA-MON, 30’s, African- American with dreads practically as long as his legs, opens the door and smiles at Chaz. He speaks with a ridiculously thick Jamaican accent. RASTA-MON Ah, Chaz-Mon! What da deal, white bwoy? Get yo’ bobo ass in here!

INT. RASTA-MON’S APARTMENT – LIVING ROOM – CONTINUOUS The place is decently large; the living room is the bulk of it with a kitchen to the side. GIRL CLIENT and GUY CLIENT are sitting on chairs off to the side of the room readying some heroin needles on a table. Rasta-Mon closes and locks the door behind Chaz and Nasha, handing Chaz a joint as he puffs. RASTA-MON You want to black up a beenie, eh, mon? CHAZ Just a little ganja for my lady- friend, here. Your special kind. RASTA-MON (to Nasha) Wha’appen, lady? Whatchu doin’ wit dis battybwoy? He da grindsman to ya glamity? CHAZ Nah, nah, she’s a... Chaz wiggles his tongue between the “V” of his index and middle fingers. Rasta-Mon lets out a belly-laugh and turns away as Chaz cocks a grin, glancing at Nasha. She’s staring at him with rigid eyebrows and backhands his chest. 28.

NASHA Fuckin’ asshole. I’m gonna hit the john; just get a good amount for me from him while I’m in there so we can get the hell outta here. CHAZ You really need to work on your social skills. Makes dealin’ feel a lot more friendly and a lot less illegal. NASHA Blow me, blowtard. I’m not gonna babysit your ass after you get baked and can’t handle yourself like always. Now where’s the loo, or whatever the fuck they call it in Jamaican? CHAZ First door around that corner. Nasha moves past him and heads for it.

INT. RASTA-MON’S APARTMENT – BATHROOM – CONTINUOUS Nasha enters and closes the door, pulling down her pants to sit on the toilet. Some water splashes over the side of the curtain-less bathtub next to her as she questionably glances at it. A big brown seal emerges from under, barking as it flaps a flipper. Nasha grabs her pants and falls off the toilet to the floor. NASHA What the fuck -- ?! The seal splashes. “ARF, ARF, ARF!” Nasha holds her pants up to her waist, speechless as she watches it. She gets to her feet and fixes her pants as she heads to the door, giving another glance back at it.

INT. RASTA-MON’S APARTMENT – LIVING ROOM – CONTINUOUS Rasta-Mon is sitting next to Chaz on the couch. Chaz is smoking a blunt, already getting stoned out of his mind as Rasta-Mon preps marijuana on a side table. Nasha turns her head back to the bathroom as she walks over next to Chaz. NASHA There’s a fucking seal in his bathtub. 29.

Chaz’s stoned eyes veer up to her as he chokes back a cough. CHAZ You mean, like –- a Navy Seal? NASHA No, I mean like an animal seal. Chaz takes another hit from the blunt. CHAZ That’s just... that’s just fuckin’ insane, man. Nasha, man –- take a hit of this shit. I’ve been... sm-smokin’ it for like two seconds and I’m already fucking bugged outta my mind, dude. Great shit. NASHA Holy damn it, Chaz! What did I fucking say to you? You know you can’t handle your moocah. I don’t have time to fucking jerk off! Rasta-Mon laughs and bobs his head. Chaz breaks out in laughter and rolls over, hitting his arm. Guy Client starts to sickly cough as Nasha looks over at him. He hacks and holds his stomach, cringing. NASHA (CONT’D) Sounds like someone needs a detox. Chaz looks over and puffs on his joint, coughing. CHAZ Oh, him. That ain’t drugs. He’s got that –- that shit. That shit that’s goin’ around. That flu shit, man. NASHA Look, dingus –- The only thing I care about goin’ around is a vibrator on my clitty-coaster later while I’m high. Ask him how much this is gonna cost so we can bag outta here! Chaz and Rasta-Mon laugh. Chaz chokes on some smoke. The front door is suddenly kicked open, catching them off-guard. Nasha turns to see three MEN standing in the open threshold –- MARCO, mid-30’s, tall and clean-cut with a shaved balding head. Behind him are THUG #1 and THUG #2. Rasta-Mon scrambles off the couch as the two Thugs whip out small Uzis. 30.

MARCO Ah-ah-ah –- Park it, you Rastafarian fuck. Rasta-Mon freezes, raising his hands. He slowly sits back down. The two Clients off to the side watch with dazed eyes. Chaz takes another stoned puff as if nothing happened. One of the Thugs closes the door behind them. Marco takes a step forward and sees a plane ticket sitting on a small stand. He picks it up and taps the ticket against his hand, grinning. MARCO (CONT’D) Nine-thirty tomorrow morning, huh? Did you wanna cash a few more transactions before you left? You know, with all that merchandise that you still haven’t paid me for? RASTA-MON ‘ey, Marco-mon, I wassa about to -- MARCO You were about to shut your goddamn braided black nigger mouth up, is “wassa” you were about to do. I give –- you pay -- you sell. That’s one of the ways we roll here in the States. But seems you got in a little over your dreads this time. So me and a couple of my boys have come to collect -- for the last time. Marco’s two Thugs cock the loading hammers back on the Uzis. NASHA Uh, look -- I’m just here to buy some weed... Should I... come back another time... or something? MARCO Shut the fuck up, bitch! Marco steps forward and nods to Chaz. MARCO (CONT’D) And what would a party be without lowlife Chaz Sheffer? Maybe HE knows. (to Chaz) You know where my cash is? Chaz sucks in some air and tilts his head back to look up at Marco with droopy eyes. 31.

CHAZ What mass... man? What church is that at? Marco and his Thugs chuckle. Rasta-Mon inches his hand to the side of the couch, where a Glock in a holder is conspicuously taped. MARCO I’m takin’ it back. Along with everything else you’ve got. We’ll call it a seizure of your life’s properties. Including your life. Rasta-Mon grabs the Glock and whips it forward, blasting Thug #1 in the chest. He stumbles back to the wall and reflexively lets his Uzi rip, catching Chaz in the back of the head with some bullets. Rasta-Mon does a dive-roll into the kitchen as Thug #2 turns his Uzi on him, ripping bullets through the living room and the two Clients. Nasha’s eyes widen as she jumps behind the couch for cover. Rasta-Mon pops up from behind the counter and shoots. They exchange fire a few times before Thug #2 catches a couple Glock bullets. Marco growls and pries the Uzi from his dead hands. He steps forward and shoots toward the kitchen. Rasta-Mon jumps out to fire his Glock, but Marco hits him with a bunch of bullets, sending him stumbling back against the fridge as he slides to the floor, leaving a long bloody streak down. Marco turns the gun toward the couch and lets it rip. Windows, blinds, shades, lamps -– everything gets blasted as Nasha covers her head. The Uzi clicks empty. Marco grabs a new clip from Thug #2’s jacket and reloads as Nasha springs to her feet and runs across the room. A frenzy of bullets follow her as she jumps into the bathroom and kicks the door shut.

INT. RASTA-MON’S APARTMENT – BATHROOM – CONTINUOUS Nasha lies on her back and turns her head to see the seal splash and give a bark. She jerks her attention around the room until stopping her eyes on the toilet.

INT. RASTA-MON’S APARTMENT – LIVING ROOM – CONTINUOUS Marco walks over to the bathroom door. MARCO You dumb bitch! Are you gonna hide behind the fucking shower curtain? He readies his finger on the trigger and kicks the door open. 32.

INT. RASTA-MON’S APARTMENT – BATHROOM – CONTINUOUS Marco steps inside and immediately blasts an array of bullets into the bathtub wall, chipping tiles and drywall. He stops and the seal emerges from underwater, barking. MARCO What the fuck...? Nasha grits her teeth as she steps out from behind the door and wails the porcelain toilet tank lid over his head, knocking him out cold to the floor. Blood starts to ooze. She takes a wary step closer, trying to peak over. NASHA Hello? Are you dead? Marco doesn’t move. She drops the toilet tank lid and nods to the seal on her way out the door. NASHA (CONT’D) (to seal) Thanks. The seal gives an “ARF-ARF” and turns, waving its flipper.

INT. RASTA-MON’S APARTMENT – LIVING ROOM – CONTINUOUS Nasha glances at the apocalypse around the room and heads for the front door before stopping. She looks over her shoulder at an open duffel bag full of marijuana bricks and perks a thinking eyebrow. She grabs the duffel bag, zipping it up and hurrying out the door.

INT. GET AROUND LIKE A RECORD – NIGHT A HAND places a record player needle onto a spinning vinyl record. It turns a volume knob up. “Video Killed the Radio Star” by The Buggles starts to play. A pair of feminine HIPS in low-rider jeans start to lightly buck. The REAR END goes side to side. A FOOT taps on the floor. These belong to Taylor, who starts to lip-sync the lyrics as she works on putting some records away in the store –- it’s one floor, decently-sized, filled with rows and shelves of records, CDs and other music-related items, clad with posters and flyers on the walls. A few CUSTOMERS browse. 33.

EXT. GET AROUND LIKE A RECORD – SAME TIME Nasha crosses the street toward the store. A MAN IN A WHEELCHAIR runs into her on the sidewalk. She tosses an arm up as he wheels past. NASHA Hey, I’m fuckin’ walkin’ here! Open your eyes, asshole! She pushes open the store’s door and steps inside.

INT. GET AROUND LIKE A RECORD – CONTINUOUS The doorbell jingles as Nasha stops and scans her eyes around, slightly rolling them as she shakes her head. She struts over to the record player and turns the speaker volume down. Taylor slows her dancing and turns, spotting her. NASHA Jesus -– is it an operational requirement for you to blast pseudo- rad Eighties music here? TAYLOR Done tokin’ up already or are you waiting ‘til you get home so you can totally be out of it when Kimball comes over and puts a bullet between your eyes? NASHA You -- You lost me. What was the first one again? A SICK FEMALE CUSTOMER uncontrollably hacks and coughs as she browses through records. Taylor cocks her head over. TAYLOR (to Female Customer) Um, excuse me –- yeah. If you’re gonna hurl all over my records, I’ve got a whole Neil Diamond section down there to the right. Sick Female Customer continues to cough, putting the records back as she heads for the bathroom in the back. She closes the door and can be heard puking. Taylor grabs a record and as she walks past Nasha toward the front counter, Nasha catches a glimpse of her tee-shirt and stops her to unbelievably pry open the outer cardigan. 34.

NASHA What is this? The tee-shirt reads in big, bold letters, “LEGALIZE GAY”. NASHA (CONT’D) Oh -– my -– God. I fucking hate you. TAYLOR What? NASHA Have you been wearing that out in public? TAYLOR Yeah? So? NASHA It’s... a little gay. Kinda gay. TAYLOR Oh, well, excuse me for correctly expressing who I am, unlike SOME people I know. NASHA Oh, come on -– what is that supposed to mean? TAYLOR It means you treat your lesbianism more like a rep than a sexual orientation. You walk around all like, “Ooh, ooh -– I’m a lesbian. Look at me, look at me, I like to kiss girls and stick my tongue inside vaginas. Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh- ooh-ooh-ooh.” RECORD JERK #1 and RECORD JERK #2, both males, early-20’s, walk past them toward the entrance, chuckling. RECORD JERK #1 Holy shit –- the nagging in the relationship is twice as bad when they’re BOTH chicks. RECORD JERK #2 Yo, which one’s the butch and which one’s the bitch? 35.

NASHA Um, excuse me, cock-jacker number one and cock-jacker number two -– I think we’re both a little too hot to ever be butch, especially in any wet dream you could ever HOPE of having of us together. RECORD JERK #1 Whatever. Have fun fingering-off to Ellen DeGeneres tonight on TV, you fucking merry-go-dykes. Record Jerk #1 and Record Jerk #2 leave out the door. TAYLOR Lick my landing strip, assholes! (to Nasha) See what I mean? It’s dicks like that who prevent us from progressing forward into the accepting public! Nasha’s cell phone rings. She looks at the display. NASHA Shit. It’s Kimball. (into phone) Hello?

INT. KIMBALL’S HOUSE – LIVING ROOM – SAME TIME Kimball sits on a couch, lit only by a lamp beside him. KIMBALL So I turn on Channel Nine News earlier to see that asshole ex- boyfriend of yours ranting about his big lottery win. INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION NASHA Kimball -- No. Let me explain. KIMBALL What did I say about lying? NASHA I wasn’t lying, goddamn it! He stole the ticket from me and cashed it in for himself! (MORE) 36. NASHA (CONT'D) I know there’s no way to prove it was ever mine but -- KIMBALL Let me assure you, Nasha -- you’ve already cashed a ticket in. And it’s not for wealth. NASHA Kimball, please! Listen to me -- I’ve got your money. Well -- not exactly, but something as equally kick-ass as money. KIMBALL Always the same bullshit with you. You’re like a broken record from that piece-of-shit store your little twat bandit buddy works at. Why do I even bother fucking around with you? NASHA Just meet me. Anywhere. Right now. You won’t be sorry, I swear to Christ. Kimball sits back in silence for a moment. KIMBALL All right. The warehouse on Easton Street. Half hour. NASHA I’ll be there. Nasha hangs up. Kimball looks at the couch across from him. KIMBALL Do what you have to do and come back here. A pair of sexy FEMININE EYES look at him from within the shadows. Kimball reaches to the side of his couch and pulls up a small suitcase, setting it on the coffee table. KIMBALL (CONT’D) You get the rest when you bring her head back to me. 37.

INT. GET AROUND LIKE A RECORD – CONTINUOUS TAYLOR What did he say? NASHA Jesus! I told you -- don’t worry about it. I’m going to take care of it. Nasha heads for the doors. Taylor grabs her arm. TAYLOR No -- Nasha, wait -- this doesn’t sound right. NASHA It’ll be fine. If he wanted me dead, he would kill me when I least expected it like that lame drive-by attempt -- not when he calls me out and gives me the chance of theoretical expectation that it’s just a set-up. Anyway, I’ll go home and grab my piece just in case, Jiminy. TAYLOR JIMINY?! Fuck you and your good conscience cricket bullshit! I’m trying to save your ass here! You think bringing your GUN is gonna help? He’s gonna fucking kill you, Nasha! NASHA Better people have tried. Taylor shakes her head and circles around the counter, pulling out some keys from a drawer. TAYLOR Then I’m going with you. NASHA The hell you are. Just wait here. I’ll be back to pick you up around close. TAYLOR Which is now. If I can’t talk you out of going, then I’m not letting you go alone. 38.

Nasha flashes her a keen smirk. NASHA Closing the store three hours early? That’s pretty sexy. What would your boss think? TAYLOR What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Guess some of your bad habits are rubbing off onto me. Taylor flicks some switches as the lights and computer turn off. She follows Nasha to the doors and flips the sign to “CLOSED”, leaving and locking it behind them.

INT. EASTON STREET WAREHOUSE – LATER A large maze-like storage warehouse, filled with boxes and other items. It’s lit up with bright ceiling lights here and there but for the most part keeps a shadowy ambiance. Nasha and Taylor creep around, turning corners. Taylor gestures toward the duffel bag in Nasha’s hand. TAYLOR So what’s in the bag? Nasha slightly moves it away. NASHA Uh, this? This? Oh, uh... This is... my gym... clothes. TAYLOR Your gym clothes. NASHA Yeah. My gym clothes. TAYLOR YOU... went to the gym. NASHA Yeah. Before I picked you up. You’re always tellin’ me to fill my time with a hobby. I’m turning over a new leaf, goddamn it. Chill the fuck out. TAYLOR Bullshit. Why would you bring gym clothes HERE? And you don’t wanna wash them first? That’s gross. 39.

NASHA I... was gonna go again after we meet with Kimball. The gym is on the way home. I thought it would save time by changing here. And I like working out in already-sweaty gym clothes. Fuck, can’t a girl bask on a Treadmill in her own perspired garments without getting persecuted? Goddamn. Taylor reaches out for the bag. TAYLOR Okay, then -- lemme see. NASHA What? No. We’ve got more important things right now than you sniffing my sweaty-ass gym clothes, you weirdo perv. TAYLOR Whatever. You’re lying. Taylor stops and sharply listens, holding out a hand. TAYLOR (CONT’D) Wait -- did you hear that? NASHA Hear what? TAYLOR I thought I heard something. NASHA Just your insistent nagging. Nasha stops and sees a crumpled dollar bill on the floor. NASHA (CONT’D) Holy shit. A dollar. See? My luck is changing already. When she bends down to pick it up, a small knife shoots into a crate behind her, barely missing her head. She jerks back, giving a wild-eyed stare to it. NASHA (CONT’D) What the fuck?! 40.

Three more rapidly shoot like a nail gun, missing all around her as she scrambles out of way and hides behind the crate with Taylor, pulling her gun. TAYLOR I told you! He’s trying to kill you! Nasha lifts her gun on top of the crate and randomly shoots a few times. She peeks her eyes over and squints through the darkness, seeing a shadowy FIGURE leap about on higher crates above. The Figure disappears. NASHA Shit. I didn’t see where he went. TAYLOR Is it Kimball? NASHA Doubt it. Okay -- you go that way and I’ll go this way. TAYLOR Get fucking bent! I’m not going off on my own! Who knows who else is out there. NASHA If we split up, we’ll have a better chance of getting away. Now move your fuckin’ ass! I’ll meet you at the car. Nasha quickly slinks away, leaving Taylor to grumble and sigh, taking off in the opposite direction. Nasha weaves through and around tall stacks of crates, readily holding her gun as she peeks around corners. She coasts her eyes around, slightly turning in a circle. Some commotion comes from above, catching her attention. She dives out of the way as another knife sharply flings against a box behind her. She rolls on the floor and looks up. NICOLETTA DAMARRA, mid-20’s, blonde, bold and beautiful with thick black eyeliner and decked out completely in black, runs and leaps off the top of a tall crate, pulling out two knives from her belt as she soars through the air down toward Nasha with a FREEZE FRAME -- INSERT TITLES: “NICOLETTA” BACK TO SCENE 41.

She lands on her feet. Nasha, sitting up, raises her gun to shoot, but Nicoletta chucks another knife sideways, knocking it from her hand. Nasha gives a surprised gasp. Nicoletta charges in, swinging down her arm to slice her, but Nasha blocks it with the duffel bag. Nicoletta kicks the bag from her hands and Nasha rolls out of the way. Nicoletta twists and grabs the knife she threw from before, twirling both and throwing them. Nasha dives as they miss and stick into crates. Nasha sees the gun lying further away. She scrambles across the floor as Nicoletta runs toward it. They collide into each other, wrestling a bit. Nasha reaches her hand out for the gun. Nicoletta pulls her hair back. Nasha kicks her legs out and the two tumble across the floor. They get to their feet and spin each other in circles, crashing against boxes. Nicoletta falls backwards and takes Nasha down with her. Nasha manages to grab her gun. Nicoletta rolls Nasha on her back, lying on top as she swipes a knife off the floor. She sticks the blade to Nasha’s throat as Nasha shoves the gun barrel under Nicoletta’s chin. They lie there motionlessly, Nicoletta dropping her eyes to the gun. NICOLETTA Hmm. Nice moves. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? NASHA I’m a fuckin’ box of Cracker Jacks. NICOLETTA Drop it before I massacre that pretty face and give you a closed- casket funeral. NASHA Look, this isn’t a stand-off, you dumb bitch -- I’ve got the gun. NICOLETTA I’ll take blades over bullets any day, honey, and believe me when I tell you -- I’m VERY fast with mine. NASHA Who sent you? Nicoletta doesn’t reply. Nasha threateningly nudges the gun more under her chin. 42.

NASHA (CONT’D) Who sent you?! NICOLETTA Kimball Trent. NASHA That son-of-a-bitch bastard. NICOLETTA Well? NASHA Well what? NICOLETTA You gonna do it or not? Nasha looks at her gun and clears her throat. NASHA I’m -- I’m thinking about it. You seem a little cocky to not be making a move yourself. NICOLETTA Well one of us better do something. I’m getting bored. Nasha inquisitively looks into her eyes. NASHA Wait -- What’s your name? NICOLETTA What? NASHA Your name. What is it? NICOLETTA It’s Miss Fancy Fuck You. Nasha nudges the gun. Nicoletta sighs. NICOLETTA (CONT’D) Nicoletta. Nasha’s grip on her gun slightly loosens as she curves her eyebrows. She thinks for a moment and grins. NICOLETTA (CONT’D) What? 43.

NASHA Nothing. It’s... This might sound a little stupid, but, um... you didn’t go to Fellmore High, did you? Nicoletta suspiciously narrows her eyes. NICOLETTA Maybe. Why? Nasha gives a shaky, embarrassed grin. NASHA Dave Larkin’s party. Sophomore year. The upstairs bathroom. You, um... You were the first girl I ever kissed. Nicoletta Damarra. Nicoletta stares down at her, gaining recognition. NICOLETTA And Matt Matell came in and starting puking all over the place... Holy shit... Nasha Rogan... English class. NASHA At your mercy. NICOLETTA Christ, I didn’t even think about it when I took the job. God, it’s been a long time. I haven’t thought about that night in years. NASHA You know, you were like, the basis for every girl I kissed after that. NICOLETTA Really? You thought I was that good? NASHA Hell YEAH you were good. I mean, obviously then I didn’t have any other girls for comparison -- but you were good. NICOLETTA Thanks. You were pretty good yourself. 44.

NASHA So are you still... into... girls? NICOLETTA Have it no other way. You? NASHA Yeah. Took a detour recently, but... I’m back. They stare into each other’s eyes for a dragging moment. NASHA (CONT’D) Um... are you still gonna kill me? Nicoletta’s eyes drop to the gun. NICOLETTA You gonna kill ME? NASHA I won’t if you won’t. NICOLETTA Fine. Nasha carefully pulls the gun away, clicking the hammer back. Nicoletta drags her knives away and slips them into holders on her belt as she pushes herself off. The two get to their feet, brushing off their clothes. NASHA So you’re an assassin now. What’s up with all the knives? Aren’t guns usually more effective for your line of work? NICOLETTA Too cliché. Boring. Knives are a much more personal way of killing someone. NASHA Oh. Okay. Taylor rounds the corner and stops, gasping at the sight of them. Nicoletta quickly pulls two knives. Nasha snaps her gun back up to aim at Nicoletta. TAYLOR Nasha -- 45.

NASHA (to Nicoletta) It’s cool. She’s with me. (to Taylor) Taylor, everything’s cool. Nicoletta darts her eyes back and forth between them. Taylor nervously stares at Nicoletta. NASHA (CONT’D) Well, uh... THIS is a little awkward... NICOLETTA You’re tellin’ ME. Nasha slowly lowers her gun. Nicoletta twirls and dunks her knives back into their respective holders. TAYLOR Um... what the hell is going on here? NASHA Kimball sent her to dust me. TAYLOR Soooo, why aren’t you dead? NASHA (to Nicoletta) Nicoletta -- my friend, Taylor. (to Taylor) Taylor -- Nicoletta Damarra. Seems my would-be killer here and I have a lip-locking history. Went to same high school together. Taylor gives a short, awkwardly fake laugh. TAYLOR Oh. Heh... Heh. That’s... cute... NASHA So... what now?

INT. FRIENDLY’S RESTAURANT – LATER Nasha sits in a booth next to Taylor and across from Nicoletta looking over a dessert menu as a WAITRESS waits. 46.

NASHA With... Reese’s Pieces... and chocolate chips. NICOLETTA (to Waitress) Ooh, that’s good. I’m actually gonna change mine to that with chocolate sprinkles, too. WAITRESS Sure. I’ll be back with those. The Waitress takes the menus and walks away. NASHA So you really kill people for a living now, huh? How do you... get into something like that? NICOLETTA You kinda just fall into it. What have YOU been up to? NASHA Well nothing as glamorous as THAT... I guess you could sorta say I’m permanently between jobs. NICOLETTA So you really won the lottery? NASHA Yep. Yeah. NICOLETTA How’d THAT feel? NASHA Well... orgasmic. Nicoletta playfully bites the edge of her straw. NICOLETTA Really, now? Nasha blushes. Taylor notices and rolls her eyes, resting her head on her hand. The Waitress returns with their sundaes. At the table behind her, FRIENDLY’S EATER, male, starts to harshly cough as the OTHERS try to pat his back. All the girls look over and watch as he stands up and holds his stomach, puking all over his table. 47.

NASHA Ohhh wonderful... THAT’S appealing... The Friendly’s Eater wobbles as his friends start to help him away from the table. Waitress turns back to the girls. WAITRESS Wow. Glad that’s not MY table. Probably would’ve caught that thing that’s going around. (beat) Lemme know if you ladies need anything else. Waitress walks away. Taylor pushes her sundae dish forward. TAYLOR I lost my appetite. NICOLETTA So, you actually hopped the fence with this asshole who stole the ticket and went to the other side for a while? TAYLOR She’s more dykey than dyke. Like she’s got A.D.D. for sexuality. NASHA It just... kinda happened. But if there’s any reason now not to trust a guy it’s because of shit like that. NICOLETTA Well... now that I know you’re back on OUR team, I gotta ask -- You, um, seeing anybody? Nasha starts to blush again. Taylor looks at her and then at Nicoletta, lightly scoffing. Nicoletta notices. NICOLETTA (CONT’D) Oh, I’m sorry, are you two...? NASHA What? No. No. I mean -- we USED to go out, but -- that was a while ago. And it wasn’t anything serious. I’m single. Very single. 48.

Nicoletta licks ice cream from her spoon, trying to conceal a smile. Taylor stubbornly stuffs a spoon in her dish. NASHA (CONT’D) So what’re you gonna do now that you haven’t... “finished” your job? Wouldn’t want to tarnish your reputation or anything. NICOLETTA Don’t sweat it. My reputation precedes me. Besides -- couldn’t kill anything as cute as you. Taylor silently and sourly mouth-mimics Nicoletta. Nicoletta eats some ice cream as Nasha gives her a firm, serious stare. NASHA Teach me. NICOLETTA Huh? NASHA How to use and kill with knives. TAYLOR Come again? Nicoletta slyly smiles and playfully perks her eyebrows. NICOLETTA Yeah, as a matter of fact -- come all you want. NASHA I’m serious. I wanna learn. TAYLOR Why? NASHA So I can kill Reese. TAYLOR Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking joking. I can’t believe I’m hearing this. NICOLETTA Really? 49.

NASHA Yeah, really. That mother fucker stole my future and humiliated me every way possible. I wanna make his sorry ass pay, and you said yourself the most personal way to kill someone is with a knife. Nasha plucks a Reese’s Pieces from her ice cream. NASHA (CONT’D) And the sooner I get to cutting off Reese’s pieces, the better. NICOLETTA What I do isn’t a joke. It’s not culinary food channel bullshit. NASHA I wanna learn. EVERYTHING. How to throw, how to cut, how to slice, how to dice. I’ll pay you. TAYLOR With WHAT? Nasha sheepishly doesn’t have an answer. NICOLETTA Well... I’m sure we could work something out. Starting with a few dates, maybe? A promising smile shoots onto Nasha’s face. Taylor buries her head in her hands. TAYLOR I’m not gonna be a part of this. NASHA Taylor, please. Grow some balls. TAYLOR (to Nicoletta) And you wanna help her? Just like that? Just because you have a boner for her after like ten years? Kimball Trent is gonna be after YOU now, too, for not killing her and returning the money he gave you to do it. 50.

NICOLETTA Hey, he wants a refund, he can come and get it. I’m not afraid of men like Kimball. He’s the type of guy who goes to clubs with a fucking balled-up sock crammed in his crotch that likes to get off on putting over-exaggerated hits on two-bit slutty white garbage pussy. TAYLOR (offended) Nasha! Nasha looks up and shrugs, mouth full of ice cream. NASHA What? NICOLETTA Hey, what Nasha’s prick ex did was wrong. Somebody’s gotta teach him a permanent lesson. If someone spanks your right ass-cheek, turn to them the other. TAYLOR (to Nasha) What about your money? And what was in that duffel bag you were gonna give to Kimball? How dumb do you think I am?

EXT. FRIENDLY’S RESTAURANT – PARKING LOT - MOMENTS LATER Nasha leads Taylor and Nicoletta to her parked car. NASHA (to Taylor) Before you start flipping, let me state for the record that my intentions were only innocently noble as I thought the owner was dead. Nasha opens the drunk and unzips the duffel bag inside to reveal the square packages of marijuana. Taylor’s mouth hangs open. Nicoletta gives an admiring whistle. NICOLETTA That’s a lotta Jane. 51.

TAYLOR Are you serious?! There’s enough dope in here to stone-out a fucking herd of elephants! NASHA You wanna shout that a little louder? I don’t think the cook inside heard you. TAYLOR What the hell are you doing with all this?! NASHA All right, well, when I went to score some bud, Chaz took me to -- TAYLOR Chaz?! That little fucker had something to do with this?! I’ll fucking kill him! NASHA Well, he’s already dead. But anyway, he took me to score the weed from this Rastafarian guy who apparently was fucking over some other drug dealer guy who showed up and started shooting up the place until I was the only one left and hid in the bathroom with a seal and hit him over the head with a toilet tank cover and knocked him out. TAYLOR You knocked out a seal with a toilet tank cover? NASHA No. The drug dealer guy. I think he might be dead. So I took the bag thinking no one could really tie me to being there. Not like that shitty apartment complex had security cams or a sign-in log. This has gotta be worth a hundred fifty-K EASILY. I figured I would trade it to get Kimball and anyone else off my ass but then knives started flying at me so EXCUUUUUSE ME for not telling you sooner. 52.

TAYLOR That’s -- That’s just brilliant, Nasha. You really amaze me. You were going to trade Kimball Trent a bag of drugs you stole from another drug dealer. NICOLETTA What are you gonna do with it now? NASHA Know any dealers that might wanna buy it? TAYLOR What are you, a fucking drug dealer now, Nasha?! NASHA Well, it seems like the only viable option. Unless you’d rather me be a good samaritan by turning it into the police. NICOLETTA Hey, I may kill for drug dealers, but I don’t work with ‘em in that capacity. Sorry. You can have some of the money Kimball gave me to kill you if that’ll help. NASHA No. I’m not looking for any hand- outs from you unless it’s offering a knife. I’m getting back the money that was mine from Reese. NICOLETTA And how are you gonna do that? NASHA The night he stole the ticket he said something about investing. I’d bet my hot ass he’s gonna try to move it through drugs. The only questions are who he’s gonna team with and when and where it’s gonna happen. Maybe if I can find out, I can do something to fuck up his hopes and dreams. TAYLOR And just how would you find THAT out? 53.

NASHA I have an old... “acquaintance”... who might be in the loop of things. NICOLETTA She still gonna be up now? NASHA Trust me -- she works late.

EXT. BROKEN HALOS GENTLEMAN’S CLUB - NIGHT Nasha walks down the sidewalk with Taylor and Nicoletta to a boasting gentleman’s club with a neon sign above the entrance glowing “BROKEN HALOS”. A neon-outline of a sexy girl with a broken halo above her head is next to it. A line is circling around the building. NASHA This is it. TAYLOR Jesus -- all this just to get into a strip club? We’ll be waiting all damn night. The BOUNCER at the door smiles at Nasha and gives a wave. BOUNCER Nasha! My favorite superfly badass bombshell! Get yo’ ass in here, girl! Bring all yo’ little bitches wit’ ya! Taylor perks her eyebrows to Nasha. TAYLOR Been here before? Nasha innocently shrugs. NASHA Like... once or twice... a long time ago... for like a couple minutes... Taylor rolls her eyes and walks past the Bouncer. Nasha smirks and gives him a fist-pound. 54.

INT. BROKEN HALOS GENTLEMAN’S CLUB - CONTINUOUS Nasha and Taylor walk further inside, where it opens up. Typical strip club, right down to Kanye West’s “Golddigger” thumping over the sound systems. Sexy STRIPPERS do their thing on stages as hungry eyes watch. CLUB REGULAR #1, male, smiles as he passes by Nasha, offering a high-five. CLUB REGULAR #1 Holy shit! Nasha Rogan in the fuckin’ house! You crazy fuckin’ bee-atch! Last week was off the HOOK, son! Nasha tries to act ignorant as CLUB REGULAR #2 spots her nearby and points a finger. CLUB REGULAR #2 Hey everybody -- Nasha’s here! Let’s get her on the bull again! TAYLOR You’ve been coming to this club without me?! NASHA I might hold the mechanical bull- riding record here. Look, just get some drinks and toss a little lettuce at some bunnies while I go talk to my source. Taylor grumbles as Nasha pushes her way through the patrons. A BLACK STRIPPER in a g-string comes over to her and playfully rests a finger on her shoulder. BLACK STRIPPER Lookin’ for something a little more private, baby? NASHA No, I’m cool. Thanks. Nasha veers around the Black Stripper and stops at a stage where SAPPHIRE, mid-20’s, beautiful brunette in a skimpy thong and bra, snakes her way around the pole. The groups sitting around the stage cheer and wildly shake dollar bills. Sapphire cups her breasts and rolls her tongue, turning around to bend over with a FREEZE FRAME -- INSERT TITLES: “SAPPHIRE” across her ass. BACK TO SCENE 55.

Sapphire shakes her ass and spins around, seductively bucking her hips. Nasha looks up at her as she crawls on all fours. A MAN stuffs some bills into her bra. She lets another cram some into her thong before crawling over to Nasha. Nasha flashes a one dollar bill. NASHA (CONT’D) I need to talk to you. Sapphire eyes the one dollar bill. SAPPHIRE Doesn’t look that important. Nasha rolls her eyes and pulls out another one dollar bill, placing them together with a waiting face. Sapphire bends back and opens her panties, but Nasha instead leans back in her chair and stuffs the bills down her own crotch, waiting. Sapphire smiles and crawls forward, biting the bills out and then putting her mouth next to Nasha’s ear. SAPPHIRE (CONT’D) Let’s step into my office.

INT. BROKEN HALOS GENTLEMAN’S CLUB – PRIVATE ROOM – MOMENTS LATER Sapphire leads Nasha into a comfortable lounge with walls of mirrors, plucking the extra bills from her undergarments. Nasha sits on one of the comfy chairs. SAPPHIRE Been a while. NASHA Yeah, I know, I’ve -- kinda been lyin’ low lately. Too many of the wrong people lookin’ for me. SAPPHIRE “Trouble” has always been your middle name. NASHA I tend to go with “Mega Deep Shit”, but it’s a lot longer to write on applications. SAPPHIRE Well, you know how I love deep. 56.

Sapphire sits on Nasha’s lap and undoes the strings to her bra, revealing her soft plucky breasts. She begins to smoothly rock back and forth. SAPPHIRE (CONT’D) Didn’t think you’d be back any time soon considering our up and down history. NASHA Well -- you know how I love up and down. (beat) Look -- I came to ask you a favor. I need to know if you know what Reese has been up to. SAPPHIRE Holy shit, didn’t he just bang ass with the lottery? NASHA That statement’s more literal than you think. I need to know if you’ve heard anything here going around involving him. SAPPHIRE Why? You thinkin’ of getting back together with him? I thought you jumped the dick ship? NASHA I did. Just -- it’s a long story. So have you overheard anything? Sapphire slows her humping to a stop, giving her a stare. NASHA (CONT’D) You heard something. SAPPHIRE I might’ve... overheard something from Darrell. NASHA Darrell? That douche bag that works here? You guys are bonking now? SAPPHIRE I sucked him off and let him spunk his funk on my tits but that’s it. 57.

NASHA Sounds like a love-at-first-sight story you can tell your future children. That is if any more aren’t sprayed onto your milk duds. Now tell me what you know. SAPPHIRE Look, if it leads to something where you’re gonna be pissing in someone’s kitty littler box, then it’s gonna be MY ass for opening my mouth. NASHA Sapphy, please. I have to know. It’s important. You owe me this. For all the shit we’ve been through. Sapphire gives a big sigh, sitting back a little. SAPPHIRE All right. I might’ve overheard Reese’s name mentioned to Darrell. Darrell’s been rollin’ with Kimball Trent lately and they’ve got some kind of big deal going down on Friday with the Latinos and some Anthony Vendetti mob guy, and apparently Reese wants in. NASHA (in awe) Fuck me... SAPPHIRE THAT you’re gonna have to pay for while I’m on the clock. NASHA No, I meant I was right. I knew that asshole was gonna try to get in on something. And the fact that it’s with Kimball isn’t surprising. SAPPHIRE Look, if you’re gonna jerk Kimball off, you better go all the way. He’s not someone to leave with blue balls. NASHA Don’t I know it. 58.

SAPPHIRE I gotta get back out there. If you’re still alive, stop by again. Sapphire cups Nasha’s face in her hands, dipping in to give her a deep kiss.

INT. BROKEN HALOS GENTLEMAN’S CLUB - MOMENTS LATER Sapphire comes out from the private area door and beelines across the club. The Black Stripper leads a CLIENT toward the door and walks into Nasha coming out, blasting an offended face. BLACK STRIPPER Hold da fuck up! What da fuck is this? I thought you said you ain’t want no private dance! NASHA Changed my mind. BLACK STRIPPER What, I ain’t good enough for your cracka ass? You think, “I ain’t goin’ for no second-rate black dancer”. Well, you a racist bitch! NASHA Hey, look -- I’m not racist, okay? I just... sexually prefer white girls over black girls. It’s like preferring a brunette over a blonde. It’s just a preference, goddamn it. I have plenty of black friends. BLACK STRIPPER You a racist! You a racist skank- ass bitch! This girl talkin’ ‘bout my black pussy ain’t as good to her tastes as some white bread... NASHA You wanna make a big deal out of it, we’ll make a big deal out of it. But I suggest for your own safety and the interest of your paying customers that you step off. BLACK STRIPPER Motha fucka... I will stomp yo’ ass out. Racist little bitch. (MORE) 59. BLACK STRIPPER (CONT'D) Can’t make no money up in here without some rich Saltine cracker hoe gettin’ up in my face about her racial preference. NASHA You WANT me to be racist? ‘Cause I can BE racist for ya. I’ll be racist like no other, you fuckin’ black-ass big-booty midnight chicken-eating niggro. The grinning Client backs away from the hostility. Black Stripper grits her teeth and gets in Nasha’s face. BLACK STRIPPER I’m gonna turn you inside out, bitch! NASHA Oh, here we go. Time to get all fuckin’ “Shaneequa” on me now, huh? Black Stripper charges into Nasha, knocking her to the floor as the surrounding people jump back. The girls toss and turn, wrestling and punching, pulling hair and kicking. Nasha pulls Black Stripper up and throws her into a table, breaking it apart. A SECURITY GUARD runs up and tries to grab Nasha, but she kicks him in the chest and knocks him back. The Black Stripper gets up and runs into Nasha, throwing her onto a stage as the DANCING STRIPPER jumps out of their path. They roll and wrestle. Poison’s “Nothin’ But A Good Time” is cranking over the speakers. The crowd around them is in an uproar of cheering and throwing their arms in the air. Nasha gets on top of Black Stripper and grabs her by the back of her hair, slamming her head against the stage platform. NASHA (CONT’D) You like that?! You like that?! You think I’d want your dark fat fuckin’ baby mama bottom grindin’ in my lap?! Nasha balls her fist and begins to sharply punch her across the face over and over, beating her bloody. More Security Guards climb onto the stage and manage to pull Nasha away, who still tries to kick at the Black Stripper. The crowd claps and cheers. The Black Stripper slightly rolls and squints her eyes in pain, coughing and spitting out some globs of blood -- along with a couple teeth. 60.

EXT. STRIP CLUB - MOMENTS LATER The doors burst open, and two Security Guards throw Nasha out. She rolls across the sidewalk and crashes against trash cans on the curb. Nasha grunts and sits up, pulling out a pack of cigarettes as Taylor and Nicoletta exit the club and stop in front of her. Nasha sticks one in her mouth and lights it, taking a puff as she shrugs. NASHA Guess they have a “no touch” policy.

INT. KIMBALL’S HOUSE – OFFICE – SAME TIME Kimball, pants down to ankles, is mounting a beautiful BUTT- NAKED GIRL, 20’s, bent over the desk. The door opens and BASIL, male, 20’s, steps in to freeze at the sight of them, grabbing the doorknob to leave. BASIL Oh –- uh -– I’ll come back. Kimball stops, taking a moment to catch his breath. KIMBALL No. Are you finished? BUTT-NAKED GIRL Not even close, baby. KIMBALL Not YOU. (to Basil) Gimme something useful, Basil. BASIL Well, uh... Dante and Vick went to the warehouse, but there was... Kimball waits. KIMBALL My hard-on inside this bitch IS getting softer by the second. BASIL There was nobody there. There were maybe signs of struggle, but no blood -- nothin’. Like they just vanished. I’ve got some guys out lookin’ for them, but... they’re not at their trailers either. (MORE) 61. BASIL (CONT'D) And that record store her friend works at was closed early. KIMBALL And our lady of the assassins? She’s missing too? Basil seems reluctant to respond. Kimball fiercely stews. KIMBALL (CONT’D) So you’re tellin’ me -- the solution to the problem I wanted fixed has now become a problem itself? That I’ve now been fucked over by not one but TWO bitches? MARCO C’mon, Kimball –- you’re actin’ like this is MY fault. Just gimme a chance to -- Kimball holds a hand up for him to stop. KIMBALL No, no -– it’s all right. Do me a favor. Move a little to your left. Basil looks down at his feet and shuffles a bit to the left. Kimball waves his hand a bit. KIMBALL (CONT’D) Just a little more. Basil inches more. KIMBALL (CONT’D) That’s good. Right there. Kimball reaches under the desk and pulls out a small sawed- off shotgun, holding it forward and blasting Basil back against the wall. Butt-Naked Girl gives a startled jump. Kimball takes a deep breath and looks at the smoking shotgun, setting it aside. He grabs her hips and starts jackhammering her again. BUTT-NAKED GIRL Oh yeah! Oh God! Oh God! Oh yeah! (beat) Can we cover him up with something? 62.

INT. BOTTLE’S BOTTOM – LATER Nasha, Taylor and Nicoletta sit at the counter drinking. Nasha swigs some beer and lets out a very unladylike belch. TAYLOR Shit. We are so fuckomatically fucked. I mean -- goddamn, Nasha. The MOB? What kinda mob drug deals these days? NASHA Would you please stop wigging out? TAYLOR We don’t even know if Reese is gonna be there for sure! Joel walks by and grabs a few empty bottles. JOEL Hey, pretty wild stuff about him winning the lottery, huh? NASHA (mumbles) Oh, blow it out your ass... JOEL What? NASHA I said “bring me another beer”. Joel nods and goes to get it. TAYLOR Fan-titty-fucking-tastic. NASHA Well, I was right, wasn’t I? Reese is gonna try to at least move some of the money through a drug deal. NICOLETTA So when’s it going down? NASHA A few days. Friday. Supposedly. He’s hooking up with some Darrell guy; smalltime dealer with Latinos. All together they’re gonna try and pull off one big get-even-richer quicker dicker deal with the mob. (MORE) 63. NASHA (CONT'D) Now we have a good idea of the who, when and where. That just leaves the how. As in how I’m gonna twist his dick up into his ass. TAYLOR Well, you can figure that one out yourself. I can’t do this! Drug dealers, knife-training, duffel bags of pot, revenge -- I’m not taking any part in any more of your bullshit, Nasha! I’m going back home and moving on with my life! You two are out of your fucking minds! You’re fucking crazy! Taylor gets up and flicks each of them off, including Joel last. TAYLOR (CONT’D) Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you! JOEL Hey, what’d I do? Taylor kisses her index and middle fingers together and flashes them a peace sign as she heads for the door. NICOLETTA Going back home is a bad idea. They’ll know to look for you there. TAYLOR NO -- they’re looking for NASHA. NICOLETTA And they’ll probably use you to get to her -- and to ME, considering how I’ve now gone AWOL with Kimball’s money without completing my task. NASHA You would just dog me like that? Some friend YOU are. NICOLETTA Look -- you girls should come back with me to MY place outside the city, all right? At least until we can figure out our next move. Nasha slides off her stool and walks past Taylor, giving her bottom a friendly slap. 64.

NASHA Agreed. Although that doesn’t mean we don’t have time for a quick song. TAYLOR A song. Our asses are on the line and she wants to play a song. Nasha smiles and walks to the digital jukebox, using it. NASHA (to herself) Where is it, where is it? Ah-ha! Found ya. Nasha inserts a one dollar bill into the machine as Taylor zeroes suspicious eyes on her. TAYLOR Nasha...? What are you doing...? NASHA Nothing. TAYLOR No. No. You are not gonna do it. NICOLETTA Do what? What is she not gonna do? NASHA Oh, yes I am. Just for you, babe. T’Pau’s “Heart and Soul” starts loud over the speakers. Taylor smiles and shakes her head. TAYLOR Oh, you bitch. Nasha taps her beer bottle like a microphone. Taylor embarrassingly covers her face with her hands. TAYLOR (CONT’D) No. Nasha starts to silently lip-sync the lyrics, snaking around Taylor and shucking her hips. TAYLOR (CONT’D) This song is even too gay for ME. Nicoletta smiles and starts to clap with the beat. 65.

NICOLETTA Wooo! Go, girl! Nasha uses a stool to climb onto the bar counter and struts. The patrons in the bar cheer her on. Joel grins and shakes his head to himself as he wipes a glass. Nasha lowers herself to her knees and seductively lip-syncs to Taylor below. Taylor gives Nasha a playfully soft slap in the face. Nasha stands back upright and struts some more. When the main chorus starts, she gives a solid, glamorously boasting stance, showing the exaggeration in her face as she continues to lip-sync. She lets her bangs fall across her eyes and reaches a needful hand toward Taylor, closing it into a fist and pulling it back to herself. She clutches one of her breasts and stomps her foot, gloriously exaggerating into the microphone. Nicoletta cheers more and throws her arms in the air with the patrons. Nasha continues her marvelous performance, doing little dances and shimmying up and down. Taylor laughs and claps.

EXT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – LATER Nicoletta pulls her car up a long driveway to a big two-story house overlooking the city. Nasha’s car follows.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – MAIN FOYER – CONTINUOUS Nicoletta leads them in through the front door. They immediately gaze at the sight before them. It’s not over-the- top, but well furnished and expensive with a winding staircase going up to the second floor balcony hallway. NASHA Well, stick a shiny silver spoon up my ass and ride me like Ricky Schroder... Nicoletta takes off her belt and wrist-shooters. NICOLETTA Anybody ever tell you that you’re the queen of overexaggeration? TAYLOR You have no idea... Nasha wanders into the connecting living room. 66.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – DEN ROOM – CONTINUOUS There’s some nice furniture, a coffee table or two, but pretty empty other than that. She turns and sees a huge framed painting on the wall, crossing her arms. INSERT: The framed painting. It’s a sexy naked woman, clad with two hanging cross necklaces covering her nipples and her pubic hair region shaved in the shape of a cross. BACK TO SCENE NASHA Now that’s a religious experience. Nicoletta and Taylor come in and join her. NICOLETTA Oh, yeah. I kinda have this thing for shit like that. Hopefully it’s not offensive to you or anything, if you’re religious at all. NASHA Well, I’m on my knees a lot if that counts for anything... Taylor walks past the fireplace and picks up a gold stone dildo sitting upright on a square black marble base. INSERT: The small plaque on the marble base reads “LESBIAN OF THE YEAR”. BACK TO SCENE Taylor scoffs and sets it down. NASHA (CONT’D) So when do I start playing with knives? NICOLETTA Patience, lady grass-humper. It’s been a long night. Come on. I’ll give you the tour. Oh my God, you’ve gotta see the upstairs bathroom. The walk-in shower is INCREDIBLE. Nasha and Taylor start to follow her out the room. NASHA Ooh. Do we get a demonstration? 67.

Taylor disgustedly rolls her eyes.

START MONTAGE

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH - GARAGE – DAY Nicoletta stands next to a hanging dummy, pointing at its chest and head. Nasha, at the other end, starts to run and dive-rolls across a mat, sitting up to chuck a knife. It directly hits the dummy’s genitalia area. Nicoletta gapes her mouth. Nasha proudly wipes her hands.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – LIVING ROOM – DAY Nasha shrugs as she tries to work the knife shooter on her wrist. Nicoletta steps over to help and they fiddle with it. It abruptly goes off, shooting a knife into the wall next to Taylor’s head as she surprisingly jerks aside.

INT. NIGHTCLUB – NIGHT Nasha and Nicoletta do one shot after another at the counter, laughing and partying. Taylor shakes her head and takes a slower sip of her drink.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – KITCHEN - NIGHT Nicoletta and Nasha stand side by side at the center counter, wildly chopping celery sticks in a rapid manner.

INT. BANK – DAY Reese collects money from a CASHIER and turns, smiling as he flips through it and walks to the exit.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – BASEMENT – DAY Nasha kicks and boxes with a hanging punching bag.

EXT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – DAY Nasha, in cowboy hat and sunglasses, chucks knives at a posted target sign. She hits around the center section. Nicoletta gives her a congratulatory pat and tips her hat. Taylor, sitting on a wooden fence, watches and frustratingly stabs a knife into it. 68.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – BASEMENT – CONTINUOUS Nasha tries to twirl and handle knives, but drops them all.

INT. NIGHTCLUB – CONTINUOUS Nasha, Nicoletta and Taylor dance and groove with OTHERS on the strobe-lit floor. Taylor curves her eyebrows when Nasha and Nicoletta start to grind each other.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – KITCHEN – CONTINUOUS Nicoletta tosses a cucumber to Nasha, who immediately dices it up. When she finishes, she looks over to Nicoletta, who wiggles her tongue to the top of another cucumber. Nasha covers her mouth with a laugh.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – LIVING ROOM – DAY Nicoletta and Nasha sit on a couch cuddled by each other eating from a popcorn bowl. They laugh at the TV. Nicoletta playfully plucks a piece of popcorn into Nasha’s mouth. Over the other couch, Taylor crosses her arms.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – BASEMENT – CONTINUOUS Nasha whacks and punches the punching bag.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – GYM - NIGHT Nasha rolls across a mat, chucking a knife to a target on the wall. She dives and throws another, rolls and throws, stands up and throws.

EXT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – DAY Nasha works on her crafty knife-handling, much improved.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – BASEMENT – DAY Nasha cuts the punching bag down and jumps on top of it, wildly and crazily stabbing and slicing it. 69.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – GYM – NIGHT Nasha and Nicoletta stand and stare at a few target signs, which have knives all around the center. Nicoletta bobs her head and slaps her a low-five. END MONTAGE

INT. THE SWORD SOURCE – DAY Nicoletta leads Nasha and Taylor into a knife and metal weapon shop. RUSSELL, a shaved head tattooed army buff in his 40’s, appears from behind the check-out counter. NICOLETTA Yo, Russ! My baby come in yet? RUSSELL Got it in yesterday, Nic. NICOLETTA Holy hell; pull that fucker out! Russell turns and grabs a custom box, placing it on the counter and opening it to reveal a shiny knife. Nicoletta gently takes it out and inspects it. NICOLETTA (CONT’D) Buck Limited Edition Rush. Two- point-five drop point with black anodized aluminum frame. Paua Shell insert; Jesus Christ, Russ -- how have I not had this in my collection? RUSSELL With the amount of shit you buy to keep me in business, babe, ya got me. Russell starts to cough and hack, wiping his mouth. NICOLETTA Time to switch to lights, honey. RUSSELL Think I’m comin’ down with that flu. You wanna look at that eight- incher I was tellin’ you about? NICOLETTA Easy, big boy -- you know I only play hopscotch with girls. 70.

Russ smirks and goes into the back room. NASHA I’m gonna grab a smoke. And maybe find some chalk for the sidewalk. Nicoletta and Nasha exchange friendly eyes as Nasha leaves. Taylor casually looks around the store. TAYLOR God, she’s the queen of subtlety... NICOLETTA She know that you’re still in love with her? TAYLOR (defensively) What? NICOLETTA Hey, if you got somethin’ goin’ on, then I don’t wanna get in the way. I don’t like eating off another chick’s taco platter. TAYLOR Look, it’s not what you think. It’s not like that anymore. There’s -- nothing. It’s nothing. It was a long time ago. Nicoletta nods. Taylor lightly sighs and turns away.

EXT. THE SWORD SOURCE – SAME TIME Nasha steps to the curb and pulls her cigarettes, putting one in her mouth and lighting it as she leans against a blue post office mailbox. A FLIRTING GUY, 20’s, walks by and checks her out, smiling and backtracking over to her. FLIRTING GUY Hey. How you doin’, gorgeous? Nasha plucks the cigarette from her mouth and blows a stream of smoke, staring at him with a grin. 71.

NASHA Well, aside from owing twenty grand to a drug dealer that sent an assassin to kill me who I now befriended in a concept to get back at the prick who stole my winning lottery ticket, I have enough problems without being a single dyke in L.A. Flirting Guy bobs his head and a waves, moving on. FLIRTING GUY Right on. Have a good one. Nasha rolls her eyes. Her cell phone rings. She pulls it and looks at the screen, then puts it to her ear. NASHA (into phone) Whoever this is, you’ll get whatever I owe you. I’m good for it. Actually -- no I’m not. But if you wanna kill me instead, you’re gonna have to take a number. VETERINARY SECRETARY (V.O.) Um, actually I’m calling on behalf of the Pet Care Animal Hospital on Clemont Boulevard. I was trying to reach a Mr. Reese Calum in regards to acquiring some missing additional background information for a parakeet named “Parry” left on an overnight check-up. NASHA So why the fuck are you calling ME? VETERINARY SECRETARY (V.O.) We’re required to call secondary contact numbers on file if we’re unsuccessful with the first and this was the one listed on file. NASHA Well, un-file it, bitch. I’m not affiliated with that moron anymore. VETERINARY SECRETARY (V.O.) Terribly sorry, ma’am. We’ll remove it from our records immediately. Sorry to have disturbed you. 72.

NASHA Wait, wait -- hang on -- Are you saying the parrot is still there waiting to be picked up? VETERINARY SECRETARY (V.O.) Yes, ma’am. NASHA Where are you located again?

INT. THE SWORD SOURCE - MOMENTS LATER Nasha hurries inside. NASHA I might have found a way to get my money back. Sort of. But we gotta go NOW if we’re gonna beat him there! NICOLETTA Where? Who? To do what? NASHA I’ll explain on the way! Grab your shit and let’s go! Come on, come on! Nasha turns and runs directly into a display rack of knives, loudly crashing them all over the floor as she falls with them. Nicoletta and Taylor exchange looks. TAYLOR (mumbling) Great... can’t wait to see what THIS is all about...

INT. PET CARE ANIMAL HOSPITAL – FOYER - LATER Nasha and Nicoletta, wearing eye-only black ski masks, threateningly hold knives out across the counter to a VETERINARIAN, male, slightly bald and nerdy, who fearfully has his hands raised. Taylor, also in a ski-mask, holds a knife on the VETERINARY SECRETARY, female. NASHA DON’T FUCK WITH ME, JAG-OFF! VETERINARIAN Okay, okay! Please don’t hurt us! Just take money and go! 73.

NASHA We don’t want the money! Take us to the animals! Nicoletta kicks her way through the swinging door behind the counter and forcefully leads Veterinarian into the back. Nasha grabs Veterinary Secretary and Taylor follows.

INT. PET CARE ANIMAL HOSPITAL – BACK - CONTINUOUS Nicoletta shoves Veterinarian past the rows of noisy caged critters and around the corner. Taylor stops when she notices a small, playful golden retriever puppy. Her eyes melt. TAYLOR Ohhhhhh, oh my God! Look at you! How adorable are you? The puppy barks and happily wags its tail as she sets her knife down and opens the cage to pull it out. TAYLOR (CONT’D) Yes, you’re a cutie. Yeah, you’re a cutie, aren’t you? Yes you are. She holds and rocks the puppy, turning to Nasha. TAYLOR (CONT’D) Can we steal him, too? Nasha, still holding the knife on Veterinary Secretary, does a double-take back to Taylor. NASHA Goddamn it, will you put that little shit machine down and go watch the door for patients?! Taylor puts it back into the cage as Nicoletta emerges carrying the cage with Parry, followed by Veterinarian. NICOLETTA I got him! Nasha grabs Veterinarian and Veterinary Secretary and shoves them into a large open cage, locking it. NASHA Let’s go! Get your asses in there! Birds were meant to fly free! (MORE) 74. NASHA (CONT'D) How does it feel to be caged up, assholes?! Animal cruelty’s not so fun now, is it?! VETERINARIAN But this is an animal hospital... Nasha threateningly waves her knife, struggling for words. NASHA Dolphin-free tuna forever! TAYLOR (mumbling to Nasha) You’re the expert on eating tuna... NASHA (to Taylor) Shut up! Come on! Nasha and Taylor chase after Nicoletta.

INT. NICOLETTA’S CAR – MINUTES LATER Nicoletta drives as Nasha, sitting shotgun, turns to look at the bird cage next to Taylor in the back seat. NASHA This is genius! Pure fucking genius! Now we’ve got Reese’s pride and joy to ransom! TAYLOR You think that’s gonna work? NASHA Of COURSE it’ll work! PARRY Raaawwk! Slut-bag. NICOLETTA What did it just say? TAYLOR I believe it said “slut-bag”. NASHA No doubt Reese has given it quite the colorful vocabulary. PARRY Run a train on that ass. 75.

NICOLETTA So what then? You’re gonna call him to meet him somewhere and do the exchange? And then what? I thought you wanted this fuckin’ asshole dead? NASHA I haven’t gotten that far yet. Let’s just get back to your place and call him then. PARRY Pound time in Pussy Town. Raaawwk!

INT. REESE’S CAR – DAY Reese drives with his car filled with shopping bags. His cell phone rings. He picks it up and looks at the screen, hesitating before hitting the button. REESE What the fuck do YOU want?

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – KITCHEN – SAME TIME Nasha stands at the counter with her phone. Parry and his cage are sitting in front of her. NASHA Hi, honey! Have you missed me? INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION REESE Miss? No, I seem to remember always shooting on target with you. NASHA Oh, Reese -- you and your clever anecdotes. So how’s all the shopping goin’? You know, from that money you stole from me? I heard Bennison’s Sex Outlet is having a sale on butt-plugs. 76.

REESE Look, you gay princess carpet cleaner -- you can call and bitch to me all you want, but you and I both know I got away with cashing in that ticket because you’re a dumb broad, and there’s nothin’ you can do about it now. So whatever you had in mind you can shove right back up your snatch because it’s over with. NASHA That’s okay. I just wanted to call and let you know that I stopped by the pet care to pick up Parry for ya. REESE Wha-what? Parry? How -- How did you -- Nasha holds the phone up to Parry’s cage. NASHA (to Parry) Say “hi”. PARRY Hello, cock-sucker, hello. Anyone there? Raawwwk. Leave a message! REESE Parry! What the -- what the fuck? How...? NASHA Might wanna update your secondary contact phone numbers, dick-face. What you wanna be askin’ is how much your green trash-talkin’ buddy is worth to have back. Reese angrily punches the steering wheel. REESE You BITCH! YOU FUCKIN’ BITCH! I’ll fucking hunt you down and cut your throat! You should already be dead! 77.

NASHA Yeeeeeah, but that little assassin trick Kimball tried didn’t work so well, did it? Not when we’re getting along so well. Reese stews, trying to hold back a rage of anger. REESE What do you want? NASHA What the fuck do you THINK I want? I want my money. All of it. You know, that hundred grand you were plannin’ on partially using at your little drug deal shindig with Kimball, Darrell and the Italian mob on Friday night? REESE How do you know about that? NASHA Let’s just say another little bird told me. REESE I can’t get you all of it. I spent some. And then there’s the taxes I had to pay. NASHA I tawt I taw a puddy cat. A puddy cat with a knife! REESE All right! Fuck! Fine! I’ll get you all of it! Just don’t fucking hurt him! NASHA The alley behind Bottle’s Bottom. Tomorrow, midnight. Come alone or I give this little ranting green son- of-a-bitch a lead cracker niblet. Nasha ends the call, giving high-fives to Nicoletta and Taylor. Reese clenches his jaw and dials another number on his phone, putting it back to his ear. REESE (into phone) It’s Reese. We’ve got a problem. 78.

INT. BROKEN HALOS GENTLEMAN’S CLUB - PRIVATE ROOM – NIGHT Sapphire hangs her head as blood trickles from her nose. A fist soars in and pops her across the face. DARRELL WINSTEAD, mid-20’s, lanky and tall, shakes his hand from the sting as he circles the chair she’s tied to –- she’s dressed in her usual skimpy stripper getup. Reese stands against the wall nearby watching. DARRELL I could do this all day. Of course, you know I’m only doing you a favor for your job by knocking all your teeth out so you can suck cock better. She spits a glob of blood to the floor. SAPPHIRE Untie me and my fist will return the favor so you can work better on HIM. Darrell grins and shakes his head, belting her across the face again. He grabs her hair and yanks her head back. DARRELL You keep this up, YOU’RE gonna be the one blowing him. SAPPHIRE (to Reese) Think I’ll pass. Nasha’s told me all about your little pencil knob. You couldn’t hit pussy if you had one yourself. REESE Suck my balls, bitch! SAPPHIRE I’d rather not. Marbles can be a choking hazard. Darrell steps forward and cracks her across the jaw with another punch. Blood pours from her mouth to her chin. DARRELL You know what’s comin’ when you say shit like that, don’t ya, baby? Jesus. (MORE) 79. DARRELL (CONT'D) You’re just like a short-term memory patient who keeps hitting the shock button during a test. (beat) So what do ya want? You want button number one again? SAPPHIRE Go fuck yourself. Darrell punches her in the face. She cringes from the pain. The door opens and Kimball calmly enters, walking over. DARRELL (to Kimball) She hasn’t said jack yet. Kimball pulls out a pair of clipper piers. Sapphire’s eyes drop to them as he crouches before her. KIMBALL Listen, you two-dollar titty tart tramp -- We know you’re the only one that could’ve told Nasha about the deal. Now you’re gonna tell us what we need to know and maybe we’ll leave a fat tip. But if you’re stone-set on dickin’ around, well, then –- He wiggles one of her toes as she tries to jerk back. KIMBALL (CONT’D) -- Every single one of your little piggies are gonna leave for the market and never come back. SAPPHIRE Look -- she came to me and asked what Reese was getting into. That’s it. KIMBALL What is she planning? SAPPHIRE How the hell should I know? KIMBALL Where is she? SAPPHIRE I -- don’t -- know. 80.

DARRELL You fuckin’ lying slut! KIMBALL She doesn’t know anything else. But that doesn’t change the fact that she still told her about Friday and increased my odds of looking like an asshole to Vendetti. Kimball leans forward with the clipper pliers, grabbing Sapphire’s foot. SAPPHIRE NO! He snips. Sapphire throws her head back in excruciating pain as tears flow. Kimball’s bloody fingers toss the toe to Reese. He quickly drops it and wipes his hands on his shirt. Darrell throws his hands up. DARRELL Goddamn it, Kimball! Why didn’t you just kill Nasha yourself?! You had to get all fancy by hiring someone for your own twisted entertainment! Now she’s gonna try and fuck things up for us! Especially with this assassin bitch! You know how dangerous I’ve heard this chick is with a knife? Kimball lights a cigarette and calmly sits back on a couch. Sapphire sniffles and sobs. SAPPHIRE I have an idea on how you can settle this. (to Kimball) How ‘bout you suck Darrell’s dick while he gets fucked in the ass by Reese? Darrell steps up to her and lays a punch across her face. REESE Nasha’s gonna try something, I know it. This bitch is PISSED at me for what I did! DARRELL Maybe we should reschedule with Vendetti just to be safe. 81.

KIMBALL Don’t tell me you’re actually SCARED of that twat-twanging trash. Even if they DID show, what could a few bitches possibly do? They wouldn’t last ten seconds. You guys are actin’ like a couple of a scared pussies. REESE But they’re holding my parrot ransom! And if I don’t meet ‘em tomorrow and give her the money they’re gonna kill him! KIMBALL FUCK YOUR PARROT! You give them one cent of the money you’re puttin’ into this deal then consider yourself a dead man, Reese. With the money we’ll be pullin’ in by teaming with Vendetti, you’ll be able to buy an entire fucking rainforest of parrots. Nasha’s all talk and no walk. They’re not gonna do shit. Reese takes a calming breath and shrugs. REESE What do you want us to do about the girl? KIMBALL What girl? REESE “What girl”? THIS girl! Darrell’s girl! KIMBALL I don’t see any girl here. Kimball pulls the gun and POW! He blasts Sapphire in the head, knocking her and the chair over. Darrell jumps back in surprise. Reese stands, frozen eyes staring. KIMBALL (CONT’D) I’m not fucking around. Friday goes down as planned. There’s too much riding on this deal with Vendetti. (MORE) 82. KIMBALL (CONT’D) And if those crazy cunt-rags crash the party with any neurotic-knife shit, we take care of ‘em then, got it? Or you need more time to shake in your cheap-ass shoes? (to Darrell) Tell your boss to bill me for the damaged goods. Reese and Darrell stand in fearful silence. Kimball gets up and leaves the room.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – GUEST ROOM – NIGHT Nasha sighs as she lies in bed, tirelessly throwing the covers. She walks through the dark room and out the door.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – SECOND FLOOR HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS She streams her hand along the railing at the edge, looking over. She goes up to a closed door and puts her ear to it, listening. She continues down the hall to the door at the end. She listens and goes to grab the handle, but the door slightly opens. She quietly begins to push her way in.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – NICOLETTA’S BEDROOM – CONTINUOUS The door starts to creak as Nasha peeks in. Nicoletta, in bed under the covers, pulls a knife from under her pillows and quickly sits up, flinging it toward the door. It sharply sticks into the wall, barely missing Nasha’s head as she lets out a shriek. Nicoletta turns a light on. Nasha stares at the knife beside her head. NASHA Jesus shit! NICOLETTA Sorry. Force of habit. NASHA Maybe next time I’ll knock. NICOLETTA You okay? NASHA Yeah. I’m sorry, I -- were you sleeping? I’m fine. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll go. 83.

NICOLETTA Can’t sleep? NASHA Not used to sleeping in a place this big. NICOLETTA Was hard for me to get used to at first. Did you wanna... talk... or something? NASHA No, I’m good, thanks. ‘Night. Nasha goes to leave out the door. NICOLETTA Did you wanna sleep in HERE? Nasha looks back. Nicoletta seductively smiles and shifts over a little, pulling more of the covers away to extend the open side, as well as revealing herself in a sexy tank top and panties that have the bold words “EAT ME” printed on them. Nasha smiles and closes the door, slinking over to the bed.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – SECOND FLOOR HALLWAY – DAY Taylor yawns as she exits her room and tiredly shuffles down the hall, peeking into another room to see the bed empty. She turns and looks over the side of the railing, perking her ear to hear nothing below. She glances at the door at the end of the hall and walks over, listening. She barely knocks her knuckles against it and turns the knob.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – NICOLETTA’S BEDROOM – CONTINUOUS She glances inside and does a double-take at the knife sticking in the door’s threshold, giving a weird expression. She looks at the bed, where Nasha and Nicoletta are sleeping under the covers naked; Nasha with her arm wrapped over Nicoletta. Taylor’s face drops as she stares before dejectedly ducking out.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – LIVING ROOM – LATER Nasha paces around, practicing and twirling with some knives. Taylor reads a magazine on one of the sofa chairs. Nicoletta fiddles with one of the wrist knife shooter mechanisms on the couch. Nasha nods to the shooters. 84.

NASHA Where you get somethin’ like that? NICOLETTA Custom-made by Russell for me at The Sword Source. Just gotta find or make knives small enough to load in ‘em and they really kick ass. NASHA Hell yeah they do. TAYLOR Kinda like Spider-Man, but with knives. Nasha and Nicoletta give her blank looks. Taylor’s smile awkwardly fades and she goes back to reading. PARRY Girl, you looks good, won’t you back that ass up / You’se a fine motherfucker, won’t you back that ass up / Call me big daddy when you back that ass up. NASHA God, I wish that thing would shut the fuck up already. NICOLETTA (to Nasha) So you never did say how much you were into Kimball for and why. NASHA What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. NICOLETTA Shut up. You did not. NASHA I asked him for a little loan about a year ago, ya know, to pay some bills, pay my rent, some groceries. Odd jobs weren’t exactly cutting it. So with all the luck people have in Vegas, I thought maybe I could go and toss the dice like a high rollin’ mother fucker. Turns out I... lost a little more than I anticipated. 85.

NICOLETTA How much? NASHA Twenty grand. NICOLETTA Twenty GRAND? You borrowed and blew an entire twenty thousand dollars in Vegas?! TAYLOR I, unfortunately, was present to witness the three-day atrocity of regrettably epic and fool-hearted events. NASHA Oh, Little Miss Thang? You didn’t seem to be complaining much when that hooker I bought was takin’ the strap-on to you. Taylor widens embarrassed eyes and grits her teeth. TAYLOR (quietly) You said we were gonna forget about that! NASHA (to Nicoletta) Anyway -- I’ve been trying to pay him back the past year, running little errand jobs and bullshit like that and borrowing bucks from OTHER people who in turn are still waiting for THEIR money back. NICOLETTA Wow. I see now why he hired me to take care of you. NASHA I’d say job accomplished. Nasha licks her lips at Nicoletta, who puckers her lips. Taylor rolls her eyes. Nasha steps over to Nicoletta and grabs the other wrist knife shooting mechanism. 86.

NASHA (CONT’D) Look, it’s all mundane now. As soon we meet Reese and give him his bird, I’ll have enough to get Kimball off my ass. TAYLOR You really think he’s gonna give you your money back and let you walk away after the trouble he went through boning you over to get it? NASHA What goes around, comes around. Would you quit being such a fuckin’ pansy-ass like you always are? TAYLOR You’re not being cautious enough! You’re gonna fuck something up like you always do! NASHA Oh, eat me! Maybe if we could get through one thing when you’re not peeing in your panties then nothing WOULD go wrong! As Nasha waves the wrist knife shooter, it accidentally goes off, sending a knife directly into the cage and hitting Parry with a squawk and burst of green feathers. He falls off the stick to the bottom. Nasha stands completely still, staring toward the cage with wide, unblinking eyes. Nicoletta sits completely frozen. Taylor stares at the cage with her mouth hanging open. The last of the feathers trickle and float down to the bottom of the cage, slightly burying the bird’s body with the knife sticking out. NASHA (CONT’D) That did not just fucking happen... Nasha, Nicoletta and Taylor walk over to the cage, staring into it. Nicoletta sticks her fingers between the wires. NICOLETTA What are the fucking odds...? Look at these openings. I mean, that was -- unreal. That was like -- the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. Nicoletta’s excited smile quickly fades as she clears her throat and looks at Nasha, who doesn’t find it amusing. 87.

NICOLETTA (CONT’D) I mean -- if you weren’t so -- screwed now.

INT. PET SHOP – LATER Nasha, Taylor and Nicoletta all closely and intensely stare into a bird cage, where a green parrot inside barely moves. NASHA (to parrot) Hey. Say something. The parrot sits still. It blinks. Nasha taps the cage. NASHA (CONT’D) (to parrot) Come on! Talk. Call me a whore. Can you say “tribadism”? Tri-ba-dism. The parrot bites under its wing and goes back to staring. TAYLOR I don’t think this one talks. NICOLETTA The store owner said it talks. NASHA With WHAT? Fuckin’ SIGN LANGUAGE?! Nasha unwraps a plastic shopping bag and pulls out Parry with the small knife sticking through him, holding the bottom end. NASHA (CONT’D) They don’t even LOOK the same! BIRDIE GIRL, 6, excitedly runs up to the cage to see the parrot. BIRDIE GIRL Mommy! Look at the birdies! Birdie Girl looks at Parry in the hands of Nasha next to her and terrifyingly screams, running away. Nasha quickly wraps Parry back up in the plastic shopping bag, looking around. NICOLETTA They’re pretty close. It’s not like we have any other choice. This is the best-matching one in here. 88.

NASHA He’s never gonna fall for it. I mean, Reese is dumb, but his bird was his fuckin’ soul mate. (beat) Okay. Okay. Let’s just get a grip. We’ll think this through. We’ve got time before we gotta meet him tonight. TAYLOR I can’t believe this! You’re seriously gonna still meet him! And what is this “we” stuff? Everything is fucked, Nasha. You’re gonna trade him a mute parrot? And he probably knows you’re gonna pull somethin’, so what makes you think Kimball won’t be there to put a bullet up your ass? NASHA I’ll figure something out. Would you take a pill, Diggs? Shit. TAYLOR Oh, fucking forgive me for pointing out the miniscule fact, yes, FACT, that we’re here dildoing around with an already-absurd revenge plan. I’m getting a little pissed at being dragged around while you two work on your suicide mission. NASHA Fuck, Taylor. Change your fucking rag already. No one made you come. TAYLOR Fine. (beat) Outta here. Taylor throws her arms up and turns, walking through the store and leaving. Nasha and Nicoletta exchange a look before hurrying after.

EXT. PET SHOP - CONTINUOUS Nasha catches up to Taylor down the sidewalk. 89.

NASHA What the hell is your damage? TAYLOR Write me from prison. Or hell. I’m going home. NASHA You don’t even have a car! TAYLOR I’ll take a bus. I’d ask your new girlfriend to give me a ride but I guess she’s been too busy giving YOU one! NASHA What the fuck is THIS? Fine! Go! Be a whiney bitch! You never know how to have a good time, ya fuckin’ drag! Taylor flicks her off and keeps walking. TAYLOR Stick it up your ass! NASHA Go drive off to your Miami Beach sunset and relax your level-ten P.M.S. with a fucking Margarita! Taylor stops and turns, looking at her with glassy eyes. TAYLOR You know what? This whole time I’ve been debating who’s crazier -- you for trying to get yourself killed or me for trying to not see it happen because I love you. NASHA (dumbfounded) What...? TAYLOR And no, I don’t mean that in a best friend, sisterly way or we-used-to- sorta-date-but-now-that-we’re-just- friends-I’ll-always-love-you-kinda- way. (MORE) 90. TAYLOR (CONT'D) I mean it in the way that I don’t give a shit about a Miami Beach sunset because that’s where you take me every time I look at you. (beat) Yeah, life sucks. We live in trailers and we’re scratching for money every chance we get. And generally your attitude and outlook drives me crazy, but for some messed up unseen reason, I am completely fucking bedazzled by you everyday. Because I know you’re more than that. Nasha stares frozen at her, speechless. TAYLOR (CONT’D) So no. I don’t give a shit about you getting your money back, because you’re MY lottery. Fuck me for being your good conscience polar opposite but you’re the entire fucking world to me up and down. So I’m sorry if my bitching has upset you. But I just don’t wanna be a part of you getting yourself killed. Taylor walks away, leaving Nasha as if she’s been hit by a ton of bricks.

INT. BOTTLE’S BOTTOM - NIGHT Taylor enters and heads for the counter. Joel notices. JOEL Hey! Look what the cat dragged in. Where’s Nasha? Taylor tiredly sits on a stool and pulls a pack of cigarettes. TAYLOR Just beer me, Joel. JOEL One of those nights, eh? Sounds like you need a flaming homo on a bar stool. TAYLOR Don’t I know it. 91.

JOEL No, I mean my drink -- it’s the drink I made recently -- inspired by Nasha. TAYLOR Look, I really don’t wanna talk about Nasha, okay?! JOEL Jeez -- if she pissed YOU off to this extent, it must be bad. Joel concocts a special drink shot combination, topped off with a quick burst of fire. Taylor blows it out and gulps it, slightly cringing. TAYLOR Better keep ‘em comin’.

INT. BOTTLE’S BOTTOM - LATER The bar is a bit quieter now with fewer patrons. Taylor dabs a cigarette out in a full ashtray and slides off her stool, nearly falling over as she balances her way toward the back. She pushes the bathroom door open to see a SICK BATHROOM MAN kneeling beside the toilet coughing. TAYLOR Jesus -- is EVERYBODY in this city sick? Taylor keeps walking further in back.

EXT. BOTTLE’S BOTTOM - REAR ALLEY - CONTINUOUS Taylor exits and wobbles against the brick wall, positioning herself next to a dumpster. She drops her pants and squats, relieving herself. When she’s finished, she stands back upright and fumbles to zip her pants up. She hears a FLICK and turns her head to see Reese lighting a cigarette in his mouth within the shadows. REESE Didn’t anybody tell you never to piss where you sleep? Reese takes a puff and sends her a hard stare. REESE (CONT’D) Where’s my bird? 92.

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – KITCHEN – NIGHT Nasha and Nicoletta sit at the counter, eating quietly from a pint of ice cream. NICOLETTA You wanna... talk about it? NASHA We have this... history. I just... Look, I’ll just deal with it later. We’ve gotta start figuring out how we’re gonna pull this off with Reese now that we’re ditching the deal tonight. Nasha’s cell phone rings. She looks at the screen. NASHA (CONT’D) Shit. It’s him. Probably wonderin’ where we are. What do I say? Nicoletta shrugs. Nasha puts it to her ear. NASHA (CONT’D) (into phone) I take it this isn’t a booty call?

INT. KIMBALL’S HOUSE – BASEMENT – SAME TIME Reese paces around with his phone. Darrell leans against a table nearby. INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION REESE Been there, done that. Low and behold I show up for our little swap and you’re nowhere to be found. Luckily your beaver-banging buddy was there gettin’ shit-faced but she’s been a little reluctant with explaining your mysterious absence. Reese turns and walks over to Taylor, who is tied to a chair. He holds the phone out. REESE (CONT’D) (to Taylor) Say “hi”, sweetheart. 93.

Taylor warily looks up to him and then at the phone. TAYLOR (into phone) Nasha. NASHA Taylor?! What the fuck is going on?! Reese puts the phone back to his ear and picks up an electric cattle prod, looking it over as he presses the button and jolts some electricity. REESE You know what an electric cattle prod is, Nasha? Just picked one up. Always wanted one. Maybe it’s the boy in me that likes to poke and shock things. NASHA I swear to God, if you touch her I’ll rip your damn head off. Reese gives Taylor a small zap. Taylor jerks and screams in pain. Darrell gives a pleased smirk. NASHA (CONT’D) TAYLOR! REESE Hey, I didn’t touch her. The cattle prod did. You’re gonna have to be more specific next time. NASHA Stop jacking off and tell me what the hell you want! REESE Parry for Taylor. NASHA What about the money? REESE “What about the money?” I’m going to dead your friend if you don’t give me Parry and you still ask about the money. Jesus -- gay or straight, all you bitches are the same when it comes to priorities. 94.

NASHA I know you, Reese -- you’re not gonna do shit as long as I have your feathery sex toy. I’m holdin’ the high ace and you know it. The bird and my money for Taylor or I’m having tiny drumsticks with my mac and cheese. Reese stiffens his jaw. REESE Fine. Tomorrow before our deal. Midnight, at Donny’s Dockside Distribution. NASHA What am I, a friggin’ asshole? So my titties can be deflated by bullets from fifteen guns before taking the first step toward you? Don’t be a fucktard and let’s settle this privately. REESE Looks like we’re both holding high cards. So if you don’t want me to bullet-fuck your lesbo friend to death, you’ll come alone and won’t even think about trying anything. Now lemme talk to my boy, you goddamn bitch. Nasha covers her phone. NASHA (to Nicoletta) He wants to talk to the parrot. Nicoletta gives another shrug. Nasha looks at the silent parrot in the cage and holds the phone away from her, clearing her throat. NASHA (CONT’D) (into phone) (mimicking parrot) Raaawk! Hi, dickhead. Eat my balls. REESE Don’t worry, buddy! Everything’s gonna be okay! You’ll be home soon! (to Nasha) (MORE) 95. REESE (CONT'D) Don’t do anything stupid, Nasha. Maybe if you’re a good girl I could convince ‘em to keep you around. I could always use more ass-pounds. Especially when your immobile body allows me to get in a few extra squeezes and smacks. NASHA YOU FUCKIN’ SON-OF-A-BITCH ASSHO-- Reese hangs up. Darrell shrugs. DARRELL Why are we wasting time screwing with these bitches? Let’s just ice this one now like we planned to do at the exchange? REESE Nasha might be a mega-bitch but she’s not stupid. And if THIS pussy-chewer won’t tell us what she’s planning, then I’d rather play it safe by keeping her alive just in case. I can’t take any chances with Parry involved. I don’t give a shit WHAT Kimball says. DARRELL Dude, your devotion to that bird is just a little too scary... Reese and Darrell head for the door. TAYLOR Hey! You assholes are just gonna leave me in here for a day with no food or water?! DARRELL Just holler when you’re hungry and I’ll come give you a mouthful of cock chowder, sweetie. TAYLOR I’d rather go for the abundance of pussy around here. Darrell snatches the prod from Reese and threatens to zap her before Reese stops him. 96.

REESE Whoa, whoa -- chill. Don’t touch her. I want her in good shape to watch what happens to her partner- in-crime tomorrow. Darrell backs off. REESE (CONT’D) (to Taylor) Sweet dreams, baby. I’d leave the lights on for ya, but I’m sure your cooch is so dirty it’ll give off a radioactive glow. Darrell chuckles as Reese turns the lights in the room off. They leave her alone in darkness. TAYLOR (groaning) God, he is such a prick...

INT. NICOLETTA’S RANCH – KITCHEN - SAME TIME Nasha angrily throws her phone to the floor, breaking it. NASHA Fuck! I HATE that fuckin’ douche bag! She covers her face, trying to calm down. Nicoletta lays a hand on her shoulder. NASHA (CONT’D) Taylor was right. I did nothing but drag her into this, and now look what’s happened. It’s all my fault. And if anything happens to her... I just... I couldn’t deal. I care about her too much, and I’ve been too big of a dumb cunt to see it. NICOLETTA We’ll get her back. NASHA How? Reese is right. Even with your crazy knife and assassin skills, there’s gonna be too many fucks there for us to handle. I’m dead. Kimball’s gonna kill me. Just as long as... (MORE) 97. NASHA (CONT'D) As long as Taylor can get away, and she’s safe, then... I guess that’s all that matters. That’s the way the shit cookie crumbles. Nicoletta thinks, licking her lips. NICOLETTA Not necessarily. I think I can get us some help. I know a guy who’s pretty... elusive. NASHA Not sayin’ I don’t appreciate the help, but one extra body isn’t gonna make a difference when Kimball and his crew start shootin’. Nicoletta grabs a nearby knife -- NICOLETTA The best thing about knives? -- and stabs it down into the counter. NICOLETTA (CONT’D) This mother fucker’s got unlimited ammo. So time to put those new skills of yours to use. SERIES OF SHOTS: -Nasha pulls some black spandex pants over her underwear. -Nicoletta puts on black gloves. -Nasha pulls a black shirt over her head. -Nicoletta straps her utility knife belt on. -Nasha twirls and dunks some knives into her own belt. -Nicoletta straps on her two wrist knife shooters. -Nasha tucks some knives into slim holders on her ankles. -Nicoletta puts her hair into a French braid. -Nasha puts her hair into a ponytail. -Nicoletta looks at Nasha and spins some knives. Nasha gives her a steady glare back. 98.

EXT. DONNY’S DOCKSIDE DISTRIBUTION - NIGHT A large riverside warehouse center on the cusp of city limits. All seems quiet with the exception of light water splashing against dock barriers. Two armed male SENTRIES stand guard at the entrance -- one on each side. Nasha walks across the lot carrying the bird cage in one hand and duffel bag in the other. The Sentries stiffen up. She stops when she reaches them and holds the cage up to SENTRY #1. SENTRY #2 goes to reach for one of the knives on her belt. She sends him a sharp eye. NASHA Touch it and you’ll be jackin’ off like Captain Hook. SENTRY #1 Lotta good they’ll do ya in there anyway, tough girl. Only way you’re leavin’ with ‘em is in your back. Nasha calmly eyes them and they let her pass. Sentry #2 looks over his shoulder inside and then nods to Sentry #1. SENTRY #2 Hey. Hey. Ya know, we been standin’ out here waitin’ for this shit to go down, and it’s been giving me a lotta time to think. Ever hear about gay guys that try to self-suck themselves? Sentry #1 gives him a judgmental look. SENTRY #2 (CONT’D) Nah, man -- hear me out. If there’s guys who try to self-suck themselves, don’t ya think there’s girls who would try to self-LICK themselves? ‘Cause we’re waitin’ on these dykos here, and I was wonderin’ if either of them has ever tried it? You think? SENTRY #1 I don’t fuckin’ know, man. Why don’t you go in and ask one? Now shut yer trap and keep an eye open for that psycho assassin friend of hers. 99.

INT. DONNY'S DOCKSIDE DISTRIBUTION – SAME TIME Nasha walks through the maze of boxes and crates until coming to a large more open back area, where Kimball, Reese, Darrell, a few THUGS and eight LATINOS stand waiting. One Thug holds a suitcase. Reese throws his head back and laughs, gesturing his gun toward her get-up. REESE Oh, get a load of THIS shit! Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me, Nasha? You’re just humiliating yourself now. And where’s your friend? I know she’s hiding here somewhere. NASHA Let’s just do this. Where’s Taylor? REESE What’s in the bag? Nasha tosses the duffel bag toward them. NASHA A hundred fifty-K worth of ganj. Reese exchanges a look with Kimball. Darrell steps out and unzips the bag, revealing its contents to his partners. REESE Where did YOU get a hundred fifty-K worth of pot? NASHA (to Reese) Out of your mom’s fat ass. (to Kimball) The bird for the bitch and the weed for my clean slate. We leave L.A. and you never see us again. I was hoping I could settle this all here tonight... two dicks with one stone. KIMBALL You really don’t get it, do you? It wasn’t about paying me back anymore, Rogan. Why do you think I hired that cunt to kill you? (MORE) 100. KIMBALL (CONT'D) Because at this point, no amount of money or weed in the world could beat the satisfaction of watching you suffer after all of the bullshit you put me through. NASHA You gonna give me Taylor or not? ‘Cause I’ll bring this bird down to hell with me, Reese. Reese turns and nods to one of the Thugs, who steps aside and pulls Taylor out from behind a crate. NASHA (CONT’D) Tay, you all right? TAYLOR Do I look all right, Nasha? We’re both about to die. That’s pretty ridiculously un-cool in my book. NASHA You’re not gonna die. I promise. TAYLOR Didn’t we already have this conversation? How fucking dumb are you? You think they’re really gonna let either of us walk outta here? You should’ve never came. And even if we miraculously got out of this, it’d only be a matter of time before you got us into some other cracked-out trouble. NASHA You’re right -- I’m sorry. This was all my fault. I don’t ever mean or want to drag you into all my bullshit, but the truth is that I’m scared. That’s hard for me to admit, but I’m scared of you coming to your senses and taking off and leaving me all alone, okay? I only act like a cool badass most of the time because I know I always have YOU by my side. And I’ll do anything to keep you there, because I love you, too, Taylor. TAYLOR Y-You... you do...? 101.

NASHA I couldn’t do anything without you. You’re my rock, and I’ll die to make sure you walk outta here safe. You’re my bitch. TAYLOR You really want me to be your bitch? Nasha grins and nods. Taylor glances at Reese with love- stricken eyes and a dreamy smile. TAYLOR (CONT’D) (to Reese) I’m her bitch... DARRELL What is this, a goddamn Lifetime channel lesbian movie-of-the-week?! Let’s fucking waste these hoes, man! REESE Shut up, Darrell. (to Nasha) That’s so touching I could shed a tear, Nasha. Now hand over Parry. The bird for the dyke. Let’s go. Put the bird down. NASHA Send the dyke over. REESE The bird first. NASHA The dyke first. REESE The bird! NASHA The dyke! Kimball groans and gestures his gun toward Nasha. KIMBALL (to Reese) Would you stop clowning around and let her go so I can fucking shoot this bitch already? (MORE) 102. KIMBALL (CONT'D) Anthony Vendetti is gonna be here any fucking moment! Reese hesitates, then gives Taylor a push forward. Taylor walks over next to Nasha. NASHA (to Taylor) You better split. TAYLOR I’m not leaving you. Nasha looks back at the group, who awaits her move. She takes a few steps forward and sets the bird cage down, backing up. One Thug grabs Nasha and pulls her away, kicking her to her knees. Another Thug holds Taylor back. Reese smiles and bends over, picking up the cage to tap it. REESE Hey, buddy. Hey, how ya doin’? Sorry for your trip to Clam Licker Land but you’re back high-rollin’ it with your rich pal now. The bird hardly moves. Reese questionably curves his eyebrows, tilting the cage and tapping it again. REESE (CONT’D) Parry? Yo, Parry, what’s up, bud? (to Nasha) Why the fuck isn’t he saying anything?! Realization sets in when he looks back at the bird. REESE (CONT’D) This isn’t fucking Parry! What are you tryin’ to pull?! Where’s my GODDAMN BIRD, YOU BITCH?! He furiously throws the cage aside and aims his gun at Nasha. ANTHONY VENDETTI, 50’s, the perfect Italian face for a black- suit-and-tie mob leader, comes marching in with six MOB MEN. VENDETTI What the fuck is THIS? KIMBALL Goddamn it... I’m sorry, Mr. Vendetti. Just protecting your investment by fixing a small problem. 103.

Kimball pushes past Reese, walking up to Nasha. He loads the gun, placing the barrel to her forehead. KIMBALL (CONT’D) Enough of this bullshit. Time to finally pay in full, Rogan.

EXT. DONNY’S DOCKSIDE DISTRIBUTION - SAME TIME Sentry #2 shoots a keen smirk to Sentry #1. SENTRY #2 That’d be hot to watch, though. SENTRY #1 Would you shut the fuck up about that shit already? You’re givin’ me a headache. A dagger flies into Sentry #1’s head. He topples over. Sentry #2’s eyes go wide as he readies his stance and grips his gun. Another dagger shoots into his throat as he chokes and wobbles, falling to the ground. INT. DONNY’S DOCKSIDE DISTRIBUTION - SAME TIME Kimball holds the gun against Nasha’s forehead as she closes her eyes. One of the Thugs in the group lets out a sharp scream. Kimball turns his head back. Nasha opens her eyes. The Thug falls face-first to the floor. A ninja star is stuck in his back. Darrell steps aside. DARRELL What the fuck...? Another ninja star zips through the air, sticking into the throat of another Thug as he gags in shock and topples over. Reese hops aside, confused. KIMBALL It’s the assassin bitch! The tops to one of the crates nearby pops off, and a small NINJA MIDGET, male, dressed in navy blue ninja attire that only reveals his eyes, pops up. Kimball and Reese jerk their heads in complete bafflement. Nicoletta runs across the taller crates by the ceiling above, taking a giant leap off as she pulls and flings a knife through the air. It spins and spins, sticking a Latino in the chest. 104.

Nasha kicks the gun out of Kimball’s hand and takes off running with Taylor. Nicoletta lands on a box and jumps down in front of Darrell to pull a knife and sharply slash it across his throat, spewing blood like a sprinkler as he gags wide-eyed, holding it and falling over. Everyone spreads like wildfire. The Latinos pull their guns, some of them automatics, ripping rapid bullets through crates. Vendetti and his Mob Men pull their guns. VENDETTI What the fuck?! Kimball covers his head and slinks over to swipe his gun off the floor, retreating from ground zero of the chaos. Ninja Midget jumps down from a crate above, swinging and twirling nun-chucks. NINJA MIDGET Ninja attack! Yah! Hee-yah! He belts a Thug across the face with it, making him drop Kimball’s suitcase full of money. Nicoletta uses her wrist knife shooter to hit an oncoming Latino. Another aims his gun at her, but she yanks a knife from her belt and chucks it, nailing him in the head. She runs and leaps behind a crate, dodging the automatic gunfire from a Thug. Nasha leads Taylor through the maze of crates throughout the building. TAYLOR Jesus Christ, Nasha! What the hell is going on? Was that -- a midget? A ninja -- MIDGET? A Latino pops out in front of them. Nasha pulls a knife and throws, hitting him in the chest. Two Thugs come at her from her sides. She kicks one of their guns from their hand and they try to grab her in a wrestling match. A Thug comes up behind Taylor and grabs her as she shrieks. He drops his gun but wraps his arms around her anyway, wrestling to the floor with her. Two Latinos circle around Nasha, one curving a sly smirk. LATINO Whatchu got, chica? You gonna use some ninjitsu like the little ese? They charge her. Nasha shoves one of the Latinos against a crate and kicks the other one away. She cross-draws two knives from her belt, sticking both the Latinos as they step toward her. 105.

She yanks the knives out and spins, stabbing them both in the chest to pull out again as they drop to their knees. She twirls the knives upward and drops to her knees as well, thrusting them up under their chins. They flop over. Nasha stands upright and victoriously pumps her chest at them. NASHA I call that “trailer-cunt-doh”. Nasha turns to see the Thug pinned on top of Taylor trying to choke her. She grits her teeth and reaches to her ankle, pulling a knife and flinging it, where it sticks directly in his open mouth. His eyes roll and he falls over. Nasha jogs over and pushes the body off of Taylor, who just lies there and stares up at her with a lovey dovey smile. Nasha dips down and grabs her hand, yanking her to her feet. She grabs Taylor’s face and lays a long, soft, passionate kiss on her lips. Taylor pulls away and takes off before stopping. TAYLOR Nasha! Let’s go! Nasha notices a black magic marker on the floor among other spilled items from a box. NASHA Hold on; I’ve always wanted to do this. She draws an “X” over both of the Thug’s closed eyelids and snickers. Taylor smiles and shakes her head, taking her by the hand. TAYLOR I so love how demented you are. Back at ground zero, Nicoletta stands up and directs her wrist knife shooter, nailing one, two, three Thugs as they all grunt upon the hits and fall dead. Vendetti rushes for the exit with a couple Mob Men in tow. VENDETTI (shouting) The deal’s off, Kimball, you fuck- up! He gives the flick-off brush under his chin and they turn to run. Nicoletta jumps down from a crate directly in their path, landing on her knees as she shoves a knife up into each of the Mob Men’s crotches. She pulls them out and stands, twirling them and scissor-chopping their heads off with a hungry wide-eyed excitement as blood speckles across her face. Vendetti steps back and sneers. 106.

VENDETTI (CONT’D) Vai all’inferno, cagna. NICOLETTA Sorry. I only speak blood. Nicoletta shoves the knife into his throat and through the back of his neck. Vendetti gags as blood spurts everywhere. He collapses to the floor. Nicoletta thumbs away some blood from the corner of her mouth. Nasha and Taylor wind around crates and emerge back into the ground zero area, where Reese is trapped. NASHA Well, well, well... what’d ya know? Finally... some alone time, Reese. Reese tries to run, but Nasha and Taylor draw their blades as he freezes. Nicoletta joins by pushing him against a crate. Ninja Midget gets on top of the crate, grasping his throat. Nasha smiles as she taps the tip of her knife against her finger. REESE Fuck! Come on, Nasha -- You’ve proved your point. All right? No more fuckin’ around. You win. Nasha steps up to him, skimming the blade across his chest. NICOLETTA Cut him good, Nasha. REESE Holy shit, don’t listen to this crazy bitch! She’s brainwashed you! I’m sorry! Think of the few decent times we DID have together. Just don’t kill me! NASHA Was there even any money in the suitcase? REESE Fuck, Nasha, cut me a goddamn break! You knew there wouldn’t be! But I can get you some, I swear to God! NASHA That’s okay, Reese -- Nasha looks at Taylor. 107.

NASHA (CONT’D) I’m already the richest bitch in the world. TAYLOR Cheesy, but you’re still gettin’ it good tonight for sayin’ it. Nasha turns back to Reese. NASHA I won’t kill you, Reese. Only because I pity what a pathetic asshole you are. I will, however -- be inclined to take something from you, since, after all, this all started by you taking something from ME. She skims the edge of her blade down his chest, dropping her eyes. He does a double-take down, realizing as he shakes his head in a tearful panic. REESE Oh, God, no -- fuck, Nasha! Don’t! That’s fucked up! Please, no! Please, don’t fucking do it! Just kill me then! Just fucking kill me! She bites her tongue and slowly begins to unbutton his pants. He tries to struggle but they all hold him back. Taylor cringes and looks away. Nasha opens the flaps to his jeans. She slowly draws the blade near his stomach. NASHA See, you assume that I can show some kinda sympathy just because it’s a dick. But all you boys seem to underestimate the one basic thing that dykes have in common with dicks -- She brings her face close to his, looking at his lips. NASHA (CONT’D) We think pussy is pretty fucking cool, too. Nasha strongly jerks her arm, clenching her teeth as he throws his head back with an endless, earth-shattering scream of pain. Nicoletta and the Ninja Midget release their grips, letting him fall to the floor. Nasha tosses the body part down at him and walks back toward Taylor. 108.

Reese notices a handgun lying on the floor nearby. He reaches a bloody shaking hand out, grabbing it and sitting up to point it at her. Nasha pulls a knife from her belt, spinning to chuck it directly into his right eye. He stiffens in surprise and falls over, body twitching. Nasha sighs and turns back to Taylor, wrapping her arms around her for a big hug. Kimball walks over from a row of crates, holding his gun. KIMBALL Well, You can take the girl out of the trailer park but you can’t take the trailer park out of the girl. Fucked me over again. Nasha pulls away from Taylor, drawing a knife. Nicoletta hops off the crate and draws two herself, and the Ninja Midget stands ready for more battle. NASHA Drop it. Kimball hopelessly tosses the gun to the floor, shrugging. KIMBALL So you gonna cut MY cock off, too? NICOLETTA (excitedly) Yeah! NASHA No. Nasha picks up the duffel bag and tosses it at his feet. NASHA (CONT’D) There’s more than enough interest included to make up for your troubles -- no matter how pissed off you might be over them. (beat) I’m gonna spare your life. Consider that my TRUE payback. You’d do best to remember that and remember who you were fucking with... because if you even think of coming after any of us again, you can be sure that three horsewomen of the apocalypse will come riding an Armageddon right up your ass. 109.

Kimball bends over and picks up the duffel bag, flashing the girls steely eyes before carrying it away. Taylor turns to Nasha and crosses her arms, playfully grinning. Nasha smiles and wraps her arms around Taylor’s neck, giving her a passionate kiss. Nicoletta turns to Ninja Midget. NICOLETTA (to Ninja Midget) Thanks for the assist. I owe ya one. Even though WE did most of the work. Ninja Midget grabs and shakes his crotch. NINJA MIDGET Hey -- choke on it. NICOLETTA Please. I have dildos bigger than you. Nicoletta gives him a fist-pound and he leaves. NICOLETTA (CONT’D) So what are you guys gonna do now? NASHA Might be time to finally ditch L.A. Besides -- I hear Miami Beach is nice this time of year. Nasha sends a coy look to Taylor. Taylor responds with a warm smile. A sick HOMELESS MAN in raggedy clothing emerges from behind a crate and slowly slinks his way toward the girls, head hanging. He’s in pretty bad shape. Nicoletta is the first to notice him, readily pulling out some knives. Nasha and Taylor turn and draw their blades as well. NASHA (CONT’D) Who the fuck is THAT? Nicoletta calmly holsters her knives. NICOLETTA Chill. Just some bum. Must’ve wandered in from the back. The Homeless Man groans as he drags his feet, head still drooped as he gets uncomfortably close to them. NASHA Hey -- buddy. Beat it. Probably ain’t the best place for you to sleep tonight. 110.

Homeless Man doesn’t say anything. They all exchange looks. TAYLOR He looks kinda... really fucked up. Nicoletta reaches and touches his shoulder. NICOLETTA Hey, man -- The Homeless Man brings his head up with a snarling growl. His face is completely bloody and deteriorated with eyes pulsating a sickening yellow. Nicoletta and Taylor jump back in surprise. NICOLETTA (CONT’D) Holy shit! Homeless Man ravenously lunges forward, clutching hold of Nicoletta as he tackles her against a shelving unit. He snarls and tries to bite her. NICOLETTA (CONT’D) GET THIS ASSHOLE OFF ME! Taylor tries to pull him away, but he turns and backhands her, knocking her against a crate. Nasha grabs a handgun from the floor and runs over, strongly ripping him away from Nicoletta. He growls and moves toward her as Nasha threateningly aims the gun. NASHA Back off, you crazy shit! Homeless Man keeps coming. Nasha stiffens her jaw and unloads the few remaining bullets into his chest, but he’s unaffected as he continues to slowly surge toward her. She gives a weird look at the gun. NASHA (CONT’D) Wha...? Taylor breaks a wooden board over his back. Homeless Man lunges to bite her. Nasha wrestles with him as Nicoletta gets to her feet and pulls her knives, beginning to slice him up as he grunts and cowls. She kicks him in the chest, sending him back against a crate, then flings a knife into his head. He finally topples over motionless. The girls pant out of breath. NASHA (CONT’D) What -- the FUCK -- just happened? Nicoletta retrieves her knife from Homeless Man’s head. 111.

NASHA (CONT’D) I must’ve plugged three or four into that mother fucker and he was still going! TAYLOR Maybe he was wearing a bulletproof vest? NICOLETTA Yeah, because that’s how bums are keeping warm these days. TAYLOR Did you SEE him? Did you see his skin? Oh my God; I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so gross. He looked like he was dying! NICOLETTA Not dying... (beat) Dead. Nasha and Taylor look at Nicoletta, who gives serious eyes. NICOLETTA (CONT’D) Looking dead and reeking like he was dead... bullets going into him and doing nothing... coming at us like he wanted to eat us... there’s only one logical explanation. TAYLOR An illegal immigrant? NASHA No, Taylor. She means a goddamn zombie. Straight-out “Dawn of the Dead” bullshit. But zombies aren’t fucking real, Nic! Another sickly-looking CIVILIAN comes slinking around the corner, groaning. One comes from another direction. NICOLETTA How ‘bout we make like a library -- AND GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE. Nasha, Taylor and Nicoletta take off running through the warehouse. 112.

EXT. DONNY’S DOCKSIDE DISTRIBUTION - CONTINUOUS A GUNSHOT rings out in the distance. Taylor frantically turns her head around. TAYLOR Where the hell is your car?! NASHA Down the street. TAYLOR Why the fuck is it down there?! NASHA Well we can’t exactly pull off a surprise warehouse attack by parking up close, can we?! The girls run down an alley to Nicoletta’s car. Nasha jumps in the passenger side as Taylor gets in back. Nicoletta opens her door when Taylor spots the zombie behind her. TAYLOR Nic, behind you! Nicoletta turns and elbows the zombie in the jaw, kicking it back into a pile of trash. She gets in the car and tries to start it up, but it won’t turn over. NASHA Come on! NICOLETTA I’m trying! The zombie outside gets up and waddles over, punching through the glass as it shatters over Nicoletta. He grabs and tries to pull her out as the car starts up. Nicoletta hits the gas and the zombie holds on, getting dragged as she chokes and tries to pry the hands free. The car slams against each wall of the alley until breaking free onto the street, skidding with a peel as the zombie lets go and rolls, only to be demolished by a large honking semi truck.

EXT. DOWNTOWN - CONTINUOUS Utter chaos on the streets -- small fires burn. Gunshots ring out. Civilians are attacked. Sirens and alarms wail in the distance. 113.

INT. NICOLETTA’S CAR - CONTINUOUS Taylor shakes her head as she watches out her window. TAYLOR Holy shit... Holy shit, these things are fucking everywhere! It’s that goddamn fucking flu shit everybody was getting sick with! That’s GOTTA be it! What are we gonna do?! NASHA (to Nasha) Slow down! You’re gonna get us killed! NICOLETTA Everybody shut up and let me drive! Taylor widens her eyes and points forward. TAYLOR Watch out! A zombie crosses the road in front of them. Nicoletta doesn’t have time to brake, so it gets mowed down -- upper torso splattering into guts and gore across the windshield. She hits the wipers, but they only make visibility worse. TAYLOR (CONT’D) We can’t see! NICOLETTA Yeah, no shit! Nicoletta swerves, trying to peek through clear spots. Bright headlights blare toward them. The girls scream.

EXT. NICOLETTA’S CAR - CONTINUOUS Nicoletta’s car turns as it hits another car, completely flipping as it soars through the air and landing upside down as pieces go flying.

INT. NICOLETTA’S CAR - CONTINUOUS The girls all groan as they shift themselves in their seats. 114.

NICOLETTA Unhh... Guess everyone can cross off being in a car that flipped from their bucket list. NASHA Three years ago -- going down on Lauren Fox while she drove. Pussy tasted like birthday cake. Totally worth it. Nasha unbuckles her belt and drops to the roof.

EXT. STREET - CONTINUOUS The girls manage to crawl their way out of the car, each a bit dinged up. ANGRY DRIVER, male, pushes his way out of the dented door of his car nearby. ANGRY DRIVER You fucking goddamn crazy women drivers! A zombie attacks him, biting his neck and ripping an arm off as Angry Driver screams. The girls watch in terror. Another zombie rounds their car. TAYLOR Nicoletta! Nicoletta turns and yanks a knife from her belt, flinging it at the zombie’s head to take it down. A few more emerge growling from an alley behind them. NICOLETTA We can’t stay here! TAYLOR Where we supposed to go?! Nicoletta spots a Jack-in-the-Box fast food restaurant one block down, all lit up and full off people as she points. NICOLETTA There! There’s people inside! Come on! They take off running. 115.

EXT. JACK-IN-THE-BOX - MOMENTS LATER Nicoletta pulls the door open and the girls frantically rush inside.

INT. JACK-IN-THE-BOX - CONTINUOUS They charge to the counter. NICOLETTA You gotta call the cops! There’s some fucked up shit going on outside! The SERVER slowly turns in a daze -- it’s a zombie. Nicoletta’s mouth drops. She notices the COOK trying to flip burgers in a trance, also a zombie. She turns with Nasha and Taylor -- their jaws drop at the sight of an eatery filled with the undead -- all taking immediate notice to the sexy flesh that just got added to the menu. NASHA Oh fuck... The first one hungrily lunges toward Nasha, who clocks it across the face with a hard fist and grabs a knife from her belt, slashing it. Nicoletta pulls some knives and strikes at another incoming body, slicing its head off. An all-out- attack ensues. The girls slice and dice anyone that comes near them. Nasha kicks one’s footing out from under it as it drops to its knees -- she spins and chops its head off. Taylor stabs and cuts one in the torso as it stumbles back. It keeps coming. NICOLETTA (to Taylor) The head! You gotta give ‘em some head! The zombie growls as Taylor grits her teeth and swings her arm, lopping its head off. Nicoletta turns and jumps onto the counter, kicking into the Server on her way down to the other side and turning to the Cook, who she slices across the neck. She spins and kicks the Server back against the counter, finishes off the Cook and goes back to the Server, grabbing it and shoving it head-first into the deep-fryer. A zombie tackles Taylor against a trash receptacle as she mutters to get free. Nasha lops through two zombies and whirls around to fling a dagger into the head of the one attacking Taylor. Nasha gives a smile and puckers her lips at her. 116.

Only one zombie remains, catching Nasha’s attention as it moans toward her -- It’s the Black Stripper from Broken Halos, decaying in her g-string. NASHA No fucking way! It’s that black bitch from Broken Halos! Oh, I SO got this one. TAYLOR If you kill her, you might be considered racist. NASHA I AM NOT FUCKING RACIST! Nasha yells and charges forward, plowing the Black Stripper to the floor and starting to wildly beat on her. She grips the handle of her knife between her fingers and uses it as an extension of her fist. NASHA (CONT’D) You like that?! Huh?! Just couldn’t get enough before, could ya?! How ‘bout a private dance NOW, bitch?! Why can’t you get it through your weave-braided head that I -- Nasha gives her face and head a sharp punch with each word. NASHA (CONT’D) -- JUST -- DON’T -- PREFER -- BLACK -- WOMEN -- SEXUALLY! Nicoletta and Taylor speechlessly watch. Nasha pants out of breath as she stands, looking down at the twitching mess Black Stripper has become. Nasha sharpens her jaw and raises her foot, bringing it down to splatter the head. She toughly extends her arms out. NASHA (CONT’D) Holla for a dolla -- bitch. What! Taylor turns her head to shoot Nicoletta a smile. TAYLOR (to Nicoletta) I love that woman... Nicoletta chuckles as she leans on the counter. A zombie comes out of the kitchen from behind and takes a gouging bite over the shoulder and into the side of Nicoletta’s breast as she hollers in pain. 117.

Nasha and Taylor defensively hold their knives. Nicoletta angrily stabs the zombie in the head, kicking it away as it fumbles back against the drive-thru cash register, dinging it open and slumping to the floor. Nicoletta cringes as she examines her injury while Nasha and Taylor hurry through the counter door. NASHA What happened? NICOLETTA Ahh! Fuck! Goddamn it! He bit me in the fucking TIT! TAYLOR That’s gross. NASHA How bad is it? Nicoletta peaks down her shirt. NICOLETTA Well, I won’t be making this month’s Playboy spread. NASHA The first thing we need to do is clean it up. You should take your top off so we can check out how serious it looks. Taylor gives Nasha a light shove. TAYLOR This isn’t funny, Nasha! This is bad! NASHA So we’ll man up and put a frozen bag of curly fries on it. If it gets really bad, we’ll give her nigger liposuction with a Wal-Mart shopping bag. NICOLETTA What definition of bad would you like? The one describing how bloody and fucked up it looks, or the one that goes along with that OTHER age-old rule in the zombie handbook -- that states if you get bitten, you turn. 118.

TAYLOR Oh my God... Oh my God, she’s right. That’s what happens! NASHA We don’t know that. All this shit started from a flu; maybe it can’t be contracted from a bite. NICOLETTA You wanna hang here to find out? NASHA As appealing as it sounds to use a Jack-into-Her-Box as a fortress, I think we should roll and get the fuck outta La-La Land. This city has pissed me off for the last time. Taylor is hungrily eating some fries and a burger. Nasha and Nicoletta give her weird looks. Taylor innocently shrugs, mouth full of food. TAYLOR What? Those assholes didn’t feed me ANYTHING while they had me. NASHA Eww... you are totally gonna fart. NOISES and THUDS divert their attention to the outside perimeter of the restaurant, where zombies have started swarming the building, pounding the glass walls to get in. TAYLOR Oh, shit! There’s more trying to get in! They’re gonna get in! NICOLETTA She’s right. That’s only glass. Sooner or later they’re gonna bust through. You guys gotta split while you can. NASHA Go to fucking hell. You’re one of the baddest cunts I’ve ever met. I’m not gonna let some tiny fun-bag chomp keep you down. You’re comin’ with us. NICOLETTA I’m fucked. Forget about me. 119.

TAYLOR So, what? You want us to, like... kill you... or something? Nicoletta squints her eyes from the pain and takes a breath, shaking her head. NICOLETTA I can hold ‘em off... distract ‘em while you get out. NASHA No! Fuck you, skank! You’re comin’ with us! The zombies manage to break through the glass doors and windows, ravenously flooding inside. Nicoletta readies her blades. NICOLETTA GO! NOW! Name a pre-school after me or something! The first two zombies push through the counter door. One reaches out with its hand as Nasha grabs a culinary knife from a cutting board and chops it off. Nasha and Taylor dice them up. Nicoletta throws a blade into the face of one on the other side of the counter and grabs Nasha and Taylor by the back of their heads, pulling them in close to give them a big three-way kiss on the lips. NICOLETTA (CONT’D) You two sure as hell put the “girls” into girls’ night out. Now go before you piss me off! Nasha’s reluctant but her face shows concurrence. NASHA Thanks -- for everything. NICOLETTA Been fun, bitch. Nicoletta wings a blade past her head, nailing a zombie. Nasha and Taylor fight their way out of the kitchen toward the back. The zombies seem to endlessly flow inside the restaurant. Nicoletta slides to the floor with her back against the wall. She reaches over and turns on some gas knobs to a stove as it hisses and sizzles. 120.

INT. JACK-IN-THE-BOX - KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS Nasha and Taylor hurry to the back exit and ready their knives. Nasha yanks the door open as a zombie steps out in front of them, growling. Taylor shoves her knife into its face. The girls hurry out, closing the door.

EXT. JACK-IN-THE-BOX - REAR - CONTINUOUS A zombie eats away at an individual next to a sportbike lying on the ground. Nasha runs over and stabs the zombie before cutting its head off. She lifts and gets onto the sportbike. Taylor hops on behind her. NASHA Hold on! Taylor curls her arms around Nasha’s waist. Nasha grabs Taylor’s hands and plants them instead over her breasts. NASHA (CONT’D) Higher. Taylor coyly grins as Nasha tries to kick-start the bike.

INT. JACK-IN-THE-BOX - KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS The zombies groan as they invade the other side of the counter, trying to reach and get over. One crawls on the floor and over the body of one of its companions as Nicoletta watches it round the corner toward her. Except -- it’s not just any zombie. It’s Kimball, completely in a morbid state of decaying undeadness. Nicoletta gives an unbelievable chuckle as he groans and growls. NICOLETTA You gotta be shitting me... Kimball slithers his way closer. Nicoletta pulls her last cigarette from her crumpled pack and sticks it into her mouth, then pulls a silver Zippo lighter from her pocket, flipping the top open with her thumb. NICOLETTA (CONT’D) Come get some, baby. Kimball has just about reached her. Nicoletta, cool and calm, brings the lighter up to her cigarette as her thumb flicks the flame on. There’s a quick spark. 121.

EXT. JACK-IN-THE-BOX - REAR - CONTINUOUS Nasha and Taylor rip away from the building on the sportbike as it blows up behind them, sending fiery debris high into the air. The bike revs and roars down the street into the approaching purple dawn. SERIES OF SHOTS: - The morning sun rises over a promising beautiful L.A. day. - The Hollywood signs is in flames. - Corpses line the streets; body parts everywhere among low- burning fires. A dog scurries off with a hand in its mouth. - Gunshots rattle in the distance with some screams. - Groaning zombies mindlessly wander.

INT. GET AROUND LIKE A RECORD – DAY Nasha, leaning on the counter, looks at a record as Taylor comes up from the back carrying a box filled with various items. NASHA You done yet? I’m all for a good soundtrack during the zombie apocalypse but me thinks we should be looting weapon stores right now instead of picking out Duran Duran. TAYLOR I’m sure gonna miss this place... You know, I always thought it was the one spot that actually felt like a home to me. But then I think of YOU... and I know that you’re my home wherever I go. My mobile home. Taylor lovingly wraps her arms around her neck. TAYLOR (CONT’D) And you are perfect just the way you are. So maybe we WILL get into trouble wherever we go, but maybe it’s our destiny. Maybe we really are meant to do something like go around the world killing drug dealers and zombies for a living. Wouldn’t that be fun? 122.

NASHA Finally -- something I’m good at. Taylor giggles and cups Nasha’s face, kissing her lips. NASHA (CONT’D) I’m gonna hit the little slut’s room, then we can hit the gas, and then I just might hit THIS. Nasha slaps and squeezes Taylor’s ass cheek, walking across the store to the bathroom and opening it to have the sick Sick Female Customer, now a zombie, scowl and lunge at her, tackling her to the floor. NASHA (CONT’D) SHIT! Taylor gasps! Nasha wrestles with the Sick Female Customer, who tries to tear and bite her. NASHA (CONT’D) Get off me, you soulless whore! TAYLOR Hang on, baby, I’m coming! Taylor grabs a knife and charges over to pull Sick Female Customer off, but she’s batted away and stumbles into a CD rack, spilling discs everywhere. Nasha struggles and manages to pull her knife, but Sick Female Customer knocks it away as it slides under a shelf. Nasha pushes her upward as Sick Female Customer groans and hungrily opens her mouth. And then -- SSSHIK! CRUNCH! A knife soars into the zombie’s head, seizing its actions as it lifelessly topples over. Nasha pushes it away and looks up. Taylor turns her head as well. Nicoletta stands tired, bloody and burnt like hell, holding another knife ready in her hand. She grins and perks a playful eyebrow. NICOLETTA You two REALLY need supervision... Nasha and Taylor excitedly smile. Nicoletta gives a wink. CUT TO BLACK END.