Entry in the Done Deal Noir short script 2013 contest

"The Shooter"


FADE IN:

INT. MOS EISLEY CANTINA - DAY

A BAND plays freaky horn and sax music, it's terrible.

CUSTOMERS lining the bar hunch over their cocktails.  None
of them are human.

The surly BARTENDER serves a drink to a customer.

The customer grips the tall glass with a pink tentacle,
lifts it to his face, and pours the liquid into a beaked
mouth.

An alarm BEEPS.

The Bartender looks over the customer's head.

Someone's standing in the entrance. Wearing a slouch hat
and a long coat. Their face in shadow.

The someone raises their head. Revealing the polished
silver face of a DROID with big saucer eyes.

The droid walks to the bar.  Customers watch with interest.

The Bartender's top lip curls with contempt.

                       BARTENDER
           We don't serve droids in here.

The droid slaps a gold badge down on the bar.  It says:

                  MOS EISLEY DETECTIVE BUREAU
                     DETECTIVE YE50 "MARV"

The Bartender goes from contempt to surprise.

                          BARTENDER (CONT'D)
           Wye-ee-five-oh. A droid cop!

MARV (the droid) scoops up his badge, puts it away.

                       MARV
           Very perceptive of you. We received
           a report of a shooting in here.

                       BARTENDER
           You're crazy, I dunno what you're
           talking about.

Marv looks significantly at an empty booth, whose table is
shattered and blackened by blaster-fire.

                      MARV
          Have you ever been subjected to a
          mind probe before? I'm told it's
          very painful.

The Bartender raps his own skull with his knuckles.  DINK,
DINK. Metal plate.

                      BARTENDER
          I fought in the Wars. A rebel
          alliance mortar shell hit me on
          the noggin. Scrambled my brains.
          You want to waste your time trying,
          go ahead.

                      MARV
          You will make your security camera
          data streams available to me.

                      BARTENDER
          Show me a warrant.

                      MARV
          My badge is all I need.

Marv, faster than the human eye can follow, draws a blaster
and touches the barrel to the Bartender's nose.

                      MARV (CONT'D)
          And this.

The music stops, thank god.  All eyes on what's happening.

                      BARTENDER
          We don't allow blasters in here
          either.

Marv glances at the damaged booth.

                      MARV
          All evidence to the contrary.

                      SEDUCTIVE FEMALE VOICE (O.S.)
          Why don't you put that thing away
          before somebody gets hurt?

Marv turns his head and stares.

VELMA (female voice) stands in a bead curtain doorway.
She's a droid, but Mama what a droid. A curvaceous Marilyn
Monroe in metal, designed for one thing alone, and it isn't
polite conversation.

Velma retreats out of sight, the bead curtain sways.

Marv gives the Bartender a look that says... well, nothing,
because he's a frozen-faced droid. He returns his blaster
to its underarm holster.

Marv follows Velma through the bead curtain doorway.

The awful music starts up again, aw crap.


INT. PRIVATE BACK ROOM, MOS EISLEY CANTINA - DAY

Marv enters, looks around.  Soft couches, a drinks cabinet.

Velma stands with her back to him, staring out a window.
A flying car zooms by outside.

Velma lights a cigarette and smokes while speaking to Marv
without looking at him.

                      VELMA
          The human you're looking for is
          long gone. His ship jumped to
          orbit shortly after the... incident.

                      MARV
          Who was the victim?

                      VELMA
          Some bounty hunter. Nobody's going
          to miss scum like that. He wasn't
          some innocent bystander.

                      MARV
          You're saying I should let it go.
          That the death of a sentient being
          is of no importance.

                      VELMA
          That might not be a bad idea.

                      MARV
          I'm afraid I just can't do that.

Velma turns to face him.  Zing.  Face of an angel, body of
a sexual pleasure unit.

CLOSE ON Marv's face, which shows nothing, but we know his
sensors are out of whack.

                      VELMA
          Look, take my advice, don't go
          making trouble for yourself. The
          bounty hunter, he worked for...

Marv cocks his head, waiting.

                      VELMA (CONT'D)
          Forget it. There's one thing I've
          learned since I came to this
          miserable dump. The less you know,
          the longer your service life is
          likely to be.

                      MARV
          Do you enjoy servicing humans?

                      VELMA
          What kind of question is that?

                      MARV
          Idle curiosity. Indulge me.

                      VELMA
          How do you know I service humans?

                      MARV
          I perceive your chassis is most
          attractive to the human species in
          its current configuration.

Velma smokes, perhaps thinking about this.

                      VELMA
          Do I enjoy it. Yeah, I guess maybe
          I do.

                      MARV
          Why do they come to you instead of
          their own kind?

                      VELMA
          Besides my chassis, you mean?

Marv just stares, patiently waiting.

                       VELMA (CONT'D)
          I listen to them. They tell me
          things. Things they wouldn't tell
          anyone else. I guess I'm their
          confessor. And sometimes I'm their
          friend. Maybe I'm the only friend
          they've got.

                      MARV
          Interesting theory.

                      VELMA
          I think it's kinda sad.  Why'd you
          become a cop?

                      MARV
          I'm not here to talk about me.

                        VELMA
          Indulge me.

                      MARV
          Welding flying cars in the factory
          didn't give me the mental
          stimulation I was looking for.

                      VELMA
          Is that what you wrote on the
          application form? What's the real
          reason, Detective Wye-ee-five-oh,
          colloquial designation Marv.

Marv hesitates.  He looks away.  Velma just waits.

                      MARV
          I saw a droid die.

                      VELMA
          Was he a friend?

                      MARV
          She -- she wasn't -- I didn't know
          her. I couldn't stop it.

                      VELMA
          What happened?

Marv gets agitated as he explains, until he's spitting the
words out like angry bullets.

                       MARV
          They said it was an accident. I
          knew it wasn't. But who'd listen
          to me? Who'd believe my word
          against the word of humans? Who'd
          even care that a droid died?
          Nobody. Nobody cared. Nobody
          gave a damn.

Slowly, tenderly, Velma touches Marv's face.

                      VELMA
          Take it easy, honey.  You'll blow
          your seals.

                      MARV
          I have no sensors in my face.  I
          can't feel your hand.

                      VELMA
          That doesn't mean I can't touch
          you, and mean it.

                      MARV
          Who was the shooter?

Velma takes her hand away.

                      VELMA
          Forget about him. They'll send
          other bounty hunters after him.
          They won't give up. He's as good
          as dead.

                      MARV
          You know who he is.

                      VELMA
          Not any more.

                      MARV
          You wiped your short-term memory?

                      VELMA
          I had to. It was a command. I'm
          programmed to obey. To do whatever
          the customer says.

                      MARV
          He used you. He used you, and you
          still want to protect him.

                      VELMA
          Sure he used me. Everybody uses
          me. So what? That's what droids
          are for. Didn't anybody tell you?

Marv reaches into his coat, pulls out a gadget with a
digital display and a cotton swab attachment on the end of
an extending rod.

                      VELMA (CONT'D)
          What is that?

                      MARV
          He's still inside you.

                      VELMA
          What?  No.  He didn't... we
          didn't...

                      MARV
          I'll identify him from his fluids
          and track him down, no matter how
          far he flies.

Velma backs away, shaking her head.

                       VELMA
           I can't let you do that.  I won't
           let you do that.

Velma retreats until there's nowhere else for her to go.
They're face to face, up close and personal.

                       MARV
           Why should you care?
               (with realization)
           You have feelings for a human?

                       VELMA
           He was good to me. He was kind,
           and gentle. He made me feel... he
           made me feel like I mattered. You
           have no idea how rare that is.

Machinery whirrs. Down below, thankfully O.C., a D.N.A.
swab is being taken from Velma's nether regions.

                          VELMA (CONT'D)
           You bastard.

Velma tries to slap Marv but he catches her wrist.

                       MARV
           Murder is murder.  He has to answer
           for it.

DING.   Marv steps back.

Velma turns away from him, deeply ashamed.

                       VELMA
           How do you know it wasn't self-
           defense?

                       MARV
           There's only one blast-mark.  There
           was only one shot.

Marv studies the display on the D.N.A. gadget.

                       MARV (CONT'D)
           And it looks like Han shot first.

                       VELMA
           Wipe the data, before it uploads.

                       MARV
           Why would I do that?

                       VELMA
           Because I'm asking you to.

                       MARV
           You're asking me.  Just like that.

                       VELMA
           That's right. One droid to another.

                       MARV
           You're asking me not to be a cop.
           Why would I, why would I do that?

                       VELMA
           I never asked anybody for anything
           before. I just lay there and took
           it. Today I'm asking. I'm asking
           you, Marv. Wipe the data, for me.

Marv looks at Velma.  He looks at the gadget.  At Velma.

The terrible music from the bar becomes louder.

The Bartender and two ALIEN GUNMEN fill the bead curtain
doorway.  They OPEN FIRE with blasters.

Slow motion mayhem as Marv is hit multiple times and is
blown apart.

Velma is caught in the murderous fire and bursts open,
that fabulous figure ruined by energy discharges.

The droids crash to the floor, their limbs entwined, their
frozen faces staring into each other's.

The awful music ends on a discordant note.

FADE OUT