Short screenplay from the Done Deal "Devil's Deadline" contest,
       Sept 2008

       "Vice Squad"

               FADE IN:

               EXT. GHETTO STREET - NIGHT

               Music blares, families argue, a baby cries, dishes shatter, 
               a frightened woman screams, a dog barks, some poor bastard 
               whimpers as he dies with a needle in his arm.

               The full Moon casts ink-black shadows across this shitty 
               suburban landscape.  A burly shape lurks in one of those 
               shadows.  DETECTIVE MARTY FINK, face like cracked stone, 
               lips that don't know how to smile.  Fink's dead fish eyes 
               stare at a 2nd-floor apartment window across the street.  
               The light in the window goes off.  Fink watches.  Ten seconds 
               later the apartment entrance opens and ALIZE steps out, a 
               skinny junkie ho wearing a shiny boob tube and a cheap leather 
               skirt so short it's technically a handkerchief.  Alize clicks 
               down the street in her oversize high heels.

               Further up the street, a pimpmobile turns on its lights and 
               peels out.  It catches up with Alize in seconds and slows to 
               cruise alongside her, matching her pace.  Alize takes deep 
               breaths, she doesn't want to face this.  She stops, and the 
               pimpmobile stops too.  She bends down to talk to the DRIVER, 
               a large shadow wearing a wide-brimmed hat.

                         Bitch, you been trying to dodge me?

                         I had the flu.  Been in my bed all 
                         day.  On my own.

                         Give me any of that crap, I will 
                         stick the barrel of my gun between 
                         your skinny legs and pull the trigger.  
                         You owe me.

                         Just gimme a couple hours.  Tonight 
                         for sure.

                         Crackhead ho, you spend my money on 

                         I had to get my act together, you 

                         Ah shit.  Now I'm gonna have to kill 

               The Driver opens his door, his bulk eases out from behind 
               the wheel.  Alize steps back, scared.  She fumbles in her 

                         I got it, I got some money here.

               A knife glints.  Alize shudders in fear.  The Driver presses 
               her up against the wall.  No escape.

                         Want you to scream, scream loud as 
                         you can.  Gotta set my other bitches 
                         an example.

               Fink crosses the street, moving fast, coming up from behind.  
               Alize sees Fink, her eyes widen.  The Driver spins round, 
               pulls out a silver howitzer.  Fink swings a baseball bat 
               with all he's got, the wet impact is horrific, the Driver is 
               blasted onto the pimpmobile's hood.  He lies there for a 
               moment, arms spread wide, unseeing eyes staring up at the 
               Moon, the side of his head crushed and leaking.  Then he 
               slides down off the hood, tumbles onto the street like a 
               giant sack of jello, leaving a gleaming black smear.

               Fink tosses the bat away.  He grabs Alize by the arm and 
               hussles her down the street, into a...

               EXT. DARK ALLEYWAY - NIGHT

               ...where Fink's car sits waiting, pointing the other way.  
               Fink opens the passenger door, pushes Alize inside, slams 
               the door shut.  Fink climbs into the driver's seat, starts 
               the engine, zooms away.


               Alize stares at Fink.  As he drives, Fink peels off latex 
               gloves and slips them into his inside coat pocket.

                         What am I supposed to say when the 
                         cops ask questions?

                         They might not do that.

                         Suddenly you own the entire police 

               Fink back-hands Alize across the mouth.  The blow stuns her 
               but doesn't seem to bother her.  She wipes blood from her 
               lip, smiles.

                         Where'd you get the bat?

                         Hector's crackhouse.

               Takes Alize a couple seconds to figure things out...

                         You think the cops will blame it on 

                         Why not?  Him and your pimp hate 
                         each other.  Known fact.

                         You pick up anything else while you 
                         were there?

                         Look under your seat.

               Alize bends and reaches under her seat, pulls out a carryall, 
               unzips it.  Filled with thousands of little plastic packets 
               containing white powder.

                         It's all for you, baby.

               Alize is overcome with emotion, she looks out the window, 
               eyes brimming with tears.

                         You really do love me, don't you?

                         As much as a vice cop can ever love 
                         a ho, yeah.

               EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT

               Fink's car zooms into the night, becomes one with the blaze 
               of the city.

                                                                  FADE OUT:


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