Figment Daily Theme: Daemonettes
EXT. DIRTY BACK ALLEY SOMEWHERE IN LOS VEGAS
TWO MEN laboriously, painfully turn over in a pile of spilled garbage bags in front of a tipped over bin.
One reeks of YUPPY GONE TO POT, pop-collared salmon shirt smeared across a big belly borne of beer, while the other might've dropped straight off the nearest REDNECK FARMER catalog, all jeans and plaid shirt and baseball cap (Go Braves!).
CAPTION: MIKE JEONATHON, 80's LEFTOVER
MIKE
(yuppy)
Oh, Jesus.
He promptly vomits into a nearby corner.
CAPTION: BUTCH WALLAR, ETERNAL REDNECK CHAMPION
BUTCH
Well, that could'a been way worse, Mike. I mean, look up there. That's, what, three, four stories? Dayum, could'a been ugly.
Mike makes it to his feet unsteadily. One hand on the tumbled bin, he walks toward Butch. The second is a little steadier. The third brings him close enough to PUNCH Butch right in the jaw.
Butch stumbles back a few steps and rubs at the redness.
BUTCH
I may have deserved that.
MIKE
What was that all about, man! Seriously! First we're having a nice talk on top of this perfectly lovely building with a couple of girls--
BUTCH
(deadpan correction)
Daemonettes.
MIKE
(continuing)
--daemonettes, and we're making some good time I though, and then--
BUTCH
I saved your life!
MIKE
You pushed me off a building!
BUTCH
I may have pushed you off a building. Just a li'l. But I done jumped down after you, that counts for somethin', right?
Mike pauses and draws a slow breath, broken in the middle by the filthy, fetid scent of a Vegas alleyway.
HOMELESS GUY
(OS)
Hey, keep it down, willya!
Mike wheels toward the end of the alley and raises a shakily balled fist.
MIKE
Yeah, I'll keep it down, old man! I'll keep it down your scrawny ass, you son of a--
The pressure of Butch's hand on his forearm slows the intended invective.
BUTCH
Look man. I know it ain't ideal. But we can't just leave them Demonettes runnin' around Vegas. It ain't right. Throws shit right out of balance. And you know what happens then.
MIKE
Yeah, maybe we get overrun by hot, sexy girls who are DTF any and all the time, in the city that's all about that life.
BUTCH
And they kill a bunch of dudes. And then there's a mess. And then there's a bigger mess when they find out they ain't human, which they will, and then it all goes to shit.
Mike sighs heavily and tries to knock the worst of the filth off his shirt. It's a heroic effort.
MIKE
Alright. What now, man? Back to the bar upstairs where we found those two?
BUTCH
Naw. Not really my style.
(beat)
I did steal one of their cell phones, though. Might be useful.
Mike gives Butch a side-ways look.
MIKE
Dude, there are easier ways to get a girl's digits.
He holds up his palm with a telephone number written in some daemonic script with a sharpie on the back.
BUTCH
Damn. I hope when we get back to the room this ain't the phone that rings.
MIKE
Yeah, I'll bet you wouldn't come through with the reach-around.
BUTCH
Wat?
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