The Dark –Noir/Hard-Boiled Detective Electrician Thriller
EXT. STREET - NIGHT
A typical dark, wet, city street from any Noir film. A 2nd storey building window features the name “Lightfoot Electrical” stenciled on it.
It was raining. (Sound of RAIN) The type of rain that always seems to be accompanied by a lone saxophone. (SAX starts) In a city like this, even the soundtrack ends up in the gutters.
A tiny, cramped and cluttered office containing a desk, filing cabinets, impossibly slow ceiling fan, and business name stenciled on door. Light from the street cuts through the venetian blinds casting shadows. A worn out looking man LIGHTFOOT, sits with his feet up on the desk which contains nothing else but a bottle of cheap liquor. He’s dressed like a typical hard-boiled detective, except he’s actually an electrician.
The sign on my door said I was open for business. But the files on my desk said there was none.
A young, well dressed woman, BUSTY enters.
NARRATOR (VO) CONT.
I could tell the moment I saw her, the dame in the doorway was trouble.
She had eyes like a cup of Costa Rican and pair of legs that went up to where legs were meant to go. It was a trip I wouldn’t mind taking but in this town, a vacation like that could get your light snuffed. So I settled for the coffee.
The guy downstairs says you’re the guy to see about a light bulb…
…She says, her voice low and husky like the light from a dusty desk lamp, begging you to lean in a little closer.
The guy downstairs would be right. Say, you’re Charlie Black’s girl? Why don’t you get him to change your light bulb?
I think Charlie’s fixing some other bulbs.
That so huh? Well I don’t think he’d appreciate me performing that service. I think the last guy who stuck his screwdriver in where it didn’t belong, blew a fuse.
It’s just a 40 watt. Charlie doesn’t need to find out. Can’t you help a girl out?
She smiles and bats her eyelashes
I had a feeling this was going to end badly. Like the time the squirrel got into the fuse box. But I decided to help her anyway. With legs like those, how could I refuse?
I typical city apartment as inhabited by a 1950s femme fatale. All the usual furniture etc. the only noteworthy fact being that there are many lamps, of which at least half are switched on.
It’s just through here, in the other room…
I followed her in. Her apartment was lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. I couldn’t believe this broad need any more light but I followed her anyway, like a moth to a flame.
They make their way into the apartment, she removing gloves and hat as she goes while switching on more lights.
Just in here…
…She said, reaching for another door.
It’s the bulb in here…
She gestures toward the dark and glances back at LIGHTFOOT who suddenly looks scared.
…Say, what’s the matter with you? You look like you’re about to stick your screwdriver in a live outlet but can’t remember if you cut the power.
Hey! You didn’t say anything about a closet.
It’s just a closet. Say, don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark.
LIGHTFOOT just stands there sweating.
Seriously? An electrician who’s afraid of the dark? Well I never heard such a thing.
Wait until I tell the girls about this!
And just like that, I was heading into her black hole.
They both enter the closet and close the door behind them.
Inside the closet is total darkness. Sounds of HEAVY BREATHING, RUSTLING and FUMBLING.
The darkness inside the closet was thick and dark as molasses. It seemed like it might have been a smart move to leave the door open, but the dark makes you do funny things.
I can’t find the hole.
To the left…
No not there!
Sound of GLASS BREAKING
What about now?
No. You’ll have to screw it much tighter.
Sound of SOMETHING FALLING OVER.
Sound of a SWITCH BEING THROWN followed by the light coming on
A small but crowded walk-in closet. LIGHTFOOT and BUSTY are standing in close proximity with a light bulb dangling between them. She looks coy, he looks flustered.
See? Not so bad after all, huh?
LIGHTFOOT looks around.
I guess not…
(looking her straight in the eye)
BUSTY stares back, batting her eye lashes like a femme fatale would. Then she reaches out and throws the switch off.
(He’s cut off)
A fat mobster-type guy CHARLIE BLACK enters, throws his hat down on the table and starts to make his way through the apartment; turning off some of the lamps as he goes.
He calls her name several more times until he comes to the closed closet door. The sound of FUMBLING comes from within. He reaches out, turns the knob and opens the door revealing LIGHTFOOT and BUSTY locked in a 1950’s style Hollywood smooch!
Excuse the nightmare formating!!!! If I do it properly, I end up with chunks with lines through it that won't disappear!
Oh and I'm still open to better metaphors and whatnot... some of them are a bit thin :)