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-   -   The CP "Film Noir" Script (http://www.chiefsplanet.com/BB/showthread.php?t=93324)

Braincase 07-17-2004 06:23 AM

The CP "Film Noir" Script
 
The Music Game and the Movie Line Game have taken on a life of their own, so I now I propose that the talented harangeurs of the Planet take on the responsibility of writing a Film Noir Tough Guy Detective script, like those grainy flicks of the 40's and 50's.

You guys use these lines every day...

An example or two..

Why not borrow detective Walter Brown's line from The Narrow Margin: "What kind of a dish was she? The sixty-cent special--cheap, flashy, strictly poison under the gravy."

Or you can simply emulate the classics with Follow Me Quietly's immortal "Follow that car!" Life may be a crooked game of blackjack with no more chips left to play. "The next person that says Merry Christmas to me, I'll kill them."

We have so many wanna be Mickey Spillane on this board, this could be fun.

First line in the next post.

Braincase 07-17-2004 06:24 AM

It was one of those kind of nights. I was in my office late, having my favorite setup - scotch with a scotch chaser, when the knock came upon that door that read "Lamar Hunt, Private Detective"... yeah, my door.

Braincase 07-17-2004 06:59 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by BrainCase
It was one of those kind of nights. I was in my office late, having my favorite setup - scotch with a scotch chaser, when the knock came upon that door that read "Lamar Hunt, Private Detective"... yeah, my door.

At just that moment I belched loudly, doubly incriminating, as whoever it was outside my door now knew that I was there, and I was also reminded of the chili and egg sandwich I'd had for dinner.

Ultra Peanut 07-17-2004 07:13 AM

I then got up to answer the door, as reluctant as I was to do so. Like a recalcitrant bulldog, my every instinct told me not to do it, but despite my doubts, I slowly turned the knob.

Saggysack 07-17-2004 07:18 AM

I don't know why I said it. It just came out.

"NO! I don't have anymore POT!"

Lamar had this funny look on his face...

"Ummm, okay....donut?"

Ultra Peanut 07-17-2004 07:21 AM

"Don't ever call me that again," was the only response that could be mustered.

Braincase 07-17-2004 07:48 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Psicosis
"Don't ever call me that again," was the only response that could be mustered.

Then she walked in. Without a word she looked over at the dessert spread I had prepared, the shot glasses filled to the brim. She walked over to the desk, with a sachet that would make a priest head for confession. With a single motion, she threw the amber liquid between her ruby lips, and swallowed. Her tongue ran over her upper lip, absorbing the last traces of the scotch.

"Your a friend of the Walker boys, too.", she said, looking out the window at the streetlights.

Thig Lyfe 07-17-2004 08:06 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by BrainCase
Then she walked in. Without a word she looked over at the dessert spread I had prepared, the shot glasses filled to the brim. She walked over to the desk, with a sachet that would make a priest head for confession. With a single motion, she threw the amber liquid between her ruby lips, and swallowed. Her tongue ran over her upper lip, absorbing the last traces of the scotch.

"Your a friend of the Walker boys, too.", she said, looking out the window at the streetlights.

All of a sudden, my paranoid instincts kicked in.

"Who? Why do you want to know? Are you a Commie??!? ARE YOU!?!?"

She stared at me for a while.

"I mean the Walker boys from down the street. The bicycle repairmen..." she said in a way that can only be achieved by a mysterious woman with a huge overbite.

"Ah, yes," I fumbled, trying to cover my tragic outburst, "what about them?"

Ultra Peanut 07-17-2004 08:08 AM

"They're okay fellas, I guess, but they tend to get into spots they have trouble removing themselves from sometimes," was her reply.

"You know, actually, it's you're," I said, unable to control myself after thinking over her earlier statement. Being a grammar nazi can really hurt business sometimes, and her eyes betrayed the second thoughts she was having about being here in the first place.

ExtremeChief 07-17-2004 08:16 AM

"I said You're" she replied... "One would think a detective would be able to deduce the fact that the apostrophe is silent!" "Maybe I should take my business elsewhere." she stated sarcastically.

Ultra Peanut 07-17-2004 08:20 AM

"Maybe you should shut your mouth, bitch!"

Well, that did it. She stormed out the door, slamming it behind her so hard I thought the glass was going to shatter. My temper had lost me yet another client.

I sat back down and poured another drink. It looked like it would be a long night.

ExtremeChief 07-17-2004 08:25 AM

Being constantly reminded that I hadn't won a big case since the 70's by my "friends" in Denver had taken a toll on me as of late. Hopefully the sixteenth shot of scotch would take the edge off and help me deal with this striking yet incredibly annoying bitch.

"What exactly do you want, Miss...? I inquired, not knowing her name.

ExtremeChief 07-17-2004 08:25 AM

damnit!

Thig Lyfe 07-17-2004 09:01 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by ExtremeChief
Being constantly reminded that I hadn't won a big case since the 70's by my "friends" in Denver had taken a toll on me as of late. Hopefully the sixteenth shot of scotch would take the edge off and help me deal with this striking yet incredibly annoying bitch.

"What exactly do you want, Miss...? I inquired, not knowing her name.

"It's Miss Davis," she said, with hope glistening in her eye.

"You got something in her eye, there, honey," I told her, gesturing towards her deep blue eyes.

"Oh..." she sighed. She rubbed at her eye for a bit, and pulled something from her eye in an unexpectedly sexy way. "It was just a piece of hope, that's all."

"I see... anyway, where were we?" I responded.

Braincase 07-17-2004 10:07 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by ArrowheadWolf
"It's Miss Davis," she said, with hope glistening in her eye.

"You got something in her eye, there, honey," I told her, gesturing towards her deep blue eyes.

"Oh..." she sighed. She rubbed at her eye for a bit, and pulled something from her eye in an unexpectedly sexy way. "It was just a piece of hope, that's all."

"I see... anyway, where were we?" I responded.

She looked at me, and her eyes were both cloase and far away at the same time. I could feel those eyes in a deep, down low kind of way.

"I've lost something, something very dear to me.", she said. The tone in her voice told me that when she lost it, she was dealing with a hard-boiled egg, the kind of egg you drop in really hot water and forget about for 20 minutes.


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