Darrell Vickers – Mick Fire For Hire: Chapter Two
Mick Fire is a flaming, insalubrious has-been rock photographer. When albums were king, he was the toast of the town. Then, he was just toast. With the coming of CD’s, his career sank quicker than a Pakistani ferryboat. His fairytale life consists of a long suffering daughter, a 23 year old girlfriend, an ex-wife, an agent who hates him, a room-temperature refrigerator and a dead ferret. Then one day, as Mick is wallowing at the bottom of his self-made shit well, someone lowers him a bucket. A job! A job that could put him back on top. And that’s when his troubles begin.
Katy Perry – I Kissed a Girl
SKYCHILD (OS)
I think I might be bi-sexual.
INT. FIRE LIVING ROOM – DAY
Skychild and Fanny sit cross-legged and naked on the floor. The lucky ferret stands between them. They have burning candles sticking out of their respective ears. Both appear to be in a state of higher mellowness. Their eyes are closed as they daintily nibble on fish sticks.
FANNY
How long have you thought that?
SKYCHILD
Since I started sleeping with your mother.
This halts Fanny, mid fish-stick-nibble.
FANNY
My father doesn’t even do that.
SKYCHILD
He doesn’t know what he’s missing. She’s a complete wild woman in bed.
FANNY
Putting aside that super-icky picture, I now can’t get out of my head, aren’t my parents a little bit old for you?
SKYCHILD
I matured faster than most people. I was a Weimaraner in another life.
INT. SONDRA CRATER’S OFFICE – DAY
Sondra Crater looks on unamused as Mick snorts a big line of white powder off her desk. His head rockets up in Peruvian delight.
MICK
Oh yeah! I feel so much better, now.
Sondra puts her private stash of Client Pleaser away. Mick looks sorry to see it go.
SONDRA
Now listen, you washed-up, alcoholic dirtbag. I just pulled a fucking miracle out of my ass and got you a gig.
MICK
Who is it this time? A polka band?
Ernie Felsenthal’s Polka Passover
MICK (CONT)
Some rich fuck who thinks his daughter can sing?
Cindy-Allen Birkshire -Hitchin’ My Way Back to Sagaponac.
SONDRA
For some unfathomable reason, The Civilians want you to do their reunion cover.
MICK
The Civilians? They’re as old as I am.
SONDRA
But imminently more charming.
MICK
And they’re all in AA!
SONDRA
Some people actually learn from their mistakes, Mick. I obviously don’t, because you’re still here.
MICK
This is probably the perfect time to talk to you about a generous advance.
Mick leans forward on her desk and smiles. Sondra picks up her stapler and drives a staple into the back of his hand. He reacts accordingly.
MICK
AHHH!! Jesus Christing Fuck Pudding!
SONDRA
Now, get the fuck out of here before I have you arrested for stealing office supplies.
MICK
(pulling out the staple)
You’ll be hearing from my pro bono lawyer.
SONDRA
(unmoved by his pain and threats)
The listening party is 4:45 at Thunder Sound. Be there, be on time, or I am taking you off my books.
MICK
How would I know if that happens?
SONDRA
Careful, Mick. Frank has been itching to shoot you for the last three years. And he’s as unbalanced as a two-legged dog.
50 Cent – Guess Who’s Back?
FRANK (OS)
I figure I could kill just about every motherfucker in this place before the SWAT Team took me out.
INT. CRATER AND SAND AGENCY COMMON ROOM – DAY
Frank talks to Joe Bonamassa. He slams the clip into the handle of his pistol and starts to wave it around.
FRANK (CONT)
Bladdam! Badouche!
(shrugs sadly)
But, my mom’s doin’ her special lasagna tonight. No way I’d wanna miss that.
JOE
(Petrified)
I’m just here to get some promo shots for an Ernie Ball ad.
INT. SONDRA CRATER’S OFFICE – DAY
The harangue continues.
SONDRA
Have you ever thought about getting into a different line of work? One that you’re not a complete failure at?
MICK
Hey, I’m 59, dirt-adjacent poor and I look like Keith Richards on a bad hair day. Despite that, I have a 23 year-old girlfriend and a picture of me in a threesome with The Judds. In what other fucking universe would that be possible?
SONDRA
Listen, Fuck-Teeth. All I’m asking is that you don’t disgrace this agency. While that may seem like a crucible beyond endurance to you, I still know some of those insane mob guys who ran MCA Records. Do you understand me?
MICK
As the naked virgin said to Dracula, you can Count on me.
SONDRA
What?
MICK
You’ll get it later. My mind is a raging synaptic firestorm of deific wisdom and blinding truth at the moment.
SONDRA
I don’t care if you’re the Oracle at fucking Delphi, be there or be dead.
MICK
Your Satanic wish is my command. I shall take my leave.
Sondra extends her palm.
SONDRA
Hand it over
MICK
To what are you referring?
SONDRA
The ice cube tray. Give it to me.
Mick takes out an ice cube tray from inside his jacket and hands it to her.
MICK
I forgot you need it to store your heart in.
INT. FIRE LIVING ROOM – DAY
The candle-powered purification of eardrums continues, along with weighty conversation.
SKY
So how come you don’t have a significant other?
FANNY
You’re not looking to fuck me too, are you?
SKY
Well, I wouldn’t say “No,” if asked, but that wasn’t the reason for the question.
FANNY
Well, my father’s an absolute asshole. Bryan Adams felt me up at a party last week. Some roadie from Stryper offered me a bag of, what he said was China White, if I’d suck his dick in front of his mother. I’m almost totally heterosexual but sometimes I just hate men sooo much.
SKY
Welcome to womanhood, sister.
Tom Johnston – Everything You’ve Heard is True
We match fade from Tom lighting his cigarette at the bar to…
INT. RECORD SHOP – DAY
Mick sits at the counter, lighting a cigarette. He’s in a major funk. He empties the whisky glass in front of him. MAX, his ex-wife and record store owner, walks into the frame and pours him some more brain-goodness from a bottle. She attractive but a little hard around the edges and about 10 years younger than her former hubby. A few people mingle about the store, looking at overpriced albums.
MAX
I don’t know what you’re so bummed about. It’s a job. Money. I know it’s been an eon, but surely you remember what money is like.
MICK
(shrugs)
I have to give half of it to you.
MAX
You owe me all of it.
MICK
This is the best gig I’ve had in decades and it’s still a piece of crap.
MAX
The Civilians were a great band.
CIVILIANS – INSANE, LUNATIC GARBAGE MEN ON HOLIDAY
MICK
35 years ago. Name me one great reunion album.
MAX
Ah…you mean besides…ah…
MICK
Exactly.
Mick’s glass is once again empty.
MAX
Another drop of the dog that shit on you?
MICK
(checks watch)
Nah, I have to work in less than an hour. Give me a beer, instead.
Mick looks up at the shirts hanging behind the counter.
MICK (CONT)
Have you got a shirt I can borrow?
MAX
I guess I can put one on your “account.”
MICK
How about a pair of pants?
MAX
There’s not much of a market for Record Store pants.
MICK
How about the ones you’re wearing?
` MAX
I wouldn’t let you into my pants when we were married, I’m sure as fuck not letting you into them now.
Imelda May – Love Tattoo
FREDA (OS)
So, this street bum, says he’s a “photographer” – with an agent, no less…
INT. CAFFIENE FROM THE BEAN – CONTINUOUS
Freda, from the bus, and her friend Carol gossip over Moca Frappucinos.
FREDA (CONT)
He tried to get a little too familiar with me on the bus, today.
CAROL
Not the asshole who wanted you to sniff the dog’s ass?
FREDA
Different one, but certainly raised in the same barnyard, if you get my drift. Men!
CAROL
Tell me about it. I’ve had so many “upskirts” taken, I had to start wearing underwear to discourage ‘em.
FREDA
So the guy in the seat in front of me – a real gentleman – lets Mr. Romeo have it, right in the choppers. Even gave me a Kleenex, to wipe the blood splatters off my skirt.
CAROL
Wow, I wish I could meet a guy like that.
FREDA
I took a picture of him.
She shows Carol the pic on her phone.
CAROL
(a nether tingle)
Cool. It’d be like getting fucked by a pirate.
FREDA
And this is the jerk-off who threatened to assault me.
Freda swipes the phone and shows Carol a picture of bloodied-and-beaten Mick.
CAROL
Uh huh. Some people just got “jerk-off” written all over their face.
FREDA
Is it okay to take a coupla Xanax with Chablis, cause I’m a complete wreck.
CAROL
(shrugs)
What could it hurt?
Freda takes a pill bottle out of her purse and downs a mouthful of them with her coffee.
FREDA
Great. I’ll drop by the liquor store on my way home.
CAROL
Why don’t you text me that prick’s picture, just in case I run into him.
FREDA
He kinda reminded me of that pervo cop. The one that was gonna give me a speedin’ ticket, unless I sucked on his weenie?
CAROL
How much was the ticket?
FREDA
(shrugs)
I have no idea.
=DV=
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Darrell Vickers started out as one half of Toronto area band, Nobby Clegg. CFNY fans may remember the cheery song “Me Dad” which still gets airplay. From there, he valiantly ventured to L.A. and eventually became head writer for The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. Since then, he’s created numerous sitcoms and animation shows in Canada and the U.S. He still writes music and has an internet band called Death of the Author Brigade (members in Croatia, Canada and the U.S.) Mr. Vickers also had a private music mailing-list where he features new and pre-loved music. Anyone who would like to be added to his daily mailing list, just write him at Radiovickers1@gmail.com
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