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...