EXT. SANTA MONICA – BAY STREET – NIGHT
A leafy side-street off the main drag. Quiet. Bucolic.
Small homes. Some nice, some shitty. The cheap seats. But safe.
A WOMAN (40) comes walking toward us down the sidewalk.
Tough-looking, but very hot. Cigarette dangling off blood-red lips.
Curves galore. Legs for days. Lips for nights.
Meet KELSEY HAZARD, a tight, taught bundle of swagger.
Long chestnut hair tied tight in a ponytail.
Eyes flashing with that world-weary air
of someone who’s seen it all.
She gets to the corner. Starts walking across the street.
The job had gone well.
We’d made off with
a little over a million bucks.
All in all, not a bad haul.
Kelsey gets to the front door of a small MARKET. Goes in.
INT. MARKET – NIGHT
Kelsey walks over the beer cooler.
Grabs a couple six-packs.
Takes them up to the register.
I’d been holed up for two days
with a low-level errand boy
for a local crew, and needed supplies.
All that fucking makes a gal thirsty.
(to the clerk)
Can I get a carton of Marlboro one-hundreds?
The AWKWARD CLERK (20) nods.
Reaches up above for the smokes.
KELSEY (V.O.) (CONT’D)
We’d all been laying low for a few days
after the score until the heat died down.
Awkward rings up the total.
Looks at the register.
That’ll be seventy-two dollars
and thirty-eight cents.
(gives him some cash)
Fucking cancer sticks are gonna
break the bank one of these days —
You should smoke generics, like I do.
She looks at him more closely. Appraising.
You live around here?
Uh — yeah. On t-tenth street.
(arches an eyebrow)
Maybe sometime we could –
work out a trade.
Uh — yeah. Sure —
(nods, big smile)
He stares. She grabs her bag.
Starts for the door.
Hey. You forgot your change —
(over her shoulder)
Keep it. Get yourself something nice.
Splurge. Live a little.
And she’s gone. Awkward watches her go.
Shakes his head. Wow.
EXT. BAY STREET – NIGHT
We watch from the across the street
as Kelsey walks down the sidewalk with her bag.
Heels CLICK-CLICKING on the cement.
The name’s Hazard. Kelsey Hazard.
I’m a heister.
I steal for a living. Big jobs, mostly.
Armored cars. Stadium jobs. Race tracks.
Even jacked a coin convention once.
But no banks. That shit’ll get you killed.
And besides, it’s a federal offense.
I’ll stick with the local heat, thank you.
She turns onto a driveway.
Starts walking up to a Craftsman bungalow.
Once nice, now crumbling in disrepair.
KELSEY (V.O.) (CONT’D)
I do one or two jobs a year.
Then live off the take the rest of the time.
I plan my jobs meticulously –
and I’ve never been caught.
Kelsey opens the front door, goes in.
INT. BUNGALOW – LIVING ROOM – NIGHT
Dimly lit. Decor, ‘early dorm room.’
She walks through into —
I’m completely off the grid.
Have never paid taxes.
INT. KITCHEN – NIGHT
The kitchen, where she puts
the smokes on the counter.
The beers into the fridge.
As far as Uncle Sam goes, I don’t exist —
She pulls off two cans, walks into —
INT. HALLWAY – NIGHT
Dark, with light spilling out
from an doorway at the end.
She walks toward the bedroom.
I’m back —
Gets to the door. Starts to walk in —
Rested up for the next round?
She looks, sees a YOUNG STUD (25)
propped up in bed.
A long SAMURAI SWORD stuck in his neck.
Pinning him to the head board.
Must have been SOME geyser.
Kelsey RACES over to the closet.
Opens it. Looks.
She WHEELS AROUND.
Head whipping back and forth.
In a RAGE.
The MONEY —
She stops. Closes her eyes.
Takes a deep breath. Opens them.
Now blazing. Full of FIRE.
(under her breath)
PDB: Your titles are pretty damn eye catching. Do you spend a lot of time on them?
CP: YES. That’s one of the first things I learned from the pros. You HAVE to have a title that when someone hears or reads it, they go, ‘DAMN. I wanna see that!’
Example. My next project? ZOMBIE AND JULIET.
Everyone I tell it to gets excited, smiles or laughs. Get the idea?
CP: Wow. Too many. Chandler. Tarantino. Hammett. Spillane. Rodriguez. Leonard. MacDonald. Miller. Coen brothers. Besson. Jean-Pierre Melville. Lumet. (Interesting that some of ’em are novelists, huh?)
PDB: Why were you kicked off Faceache?
CP: Hard to say. I was warned about ‘inappropriate images,’ but they were never removed like they said they were. Methinks it was some disgruntled stalker I defreinded who then went on a rampage.
PDB: Tell us a bit of jucy gossip?
CP: Tom Cruise is GAY. One of the Warchowski brothers is now a ‘Warchowski sister’, and Hollywood won’t acknowledge it. I’m single.
PDB: Avatator, Aviator or Ace Ventura?
CP:Aviator. But Ace is a close second. Haven’t seen the other, and never will.
PDB: If Carole Parker were a song she would be …?
CP: ‘Kiss, Kiss, Kill, Kill’ by Horrorpops. Or maybe ‘The Look Of Love’ by ABC.
PDB: What’s next…?
CP: See above. ZOMBIE AND JULIET. The Carrie Love drama pilot LEGS is about to be pitched to the premium cable networks, and THE HEISTERS is about to ‘go out wide’ in Hollywood. And don’t forget the NOWHERE GIRL comic book, which is supposed to come out this fall.
It’s my year, baby.
Carole Parker’s HARDCORE & HARDBOILED blog, THAT KILLING FEELING, is HERE
PART THREE OF SPOTLIGHT ON CAROLE PARKER CONTINUES NEXT WEEK!