Darrell Vickers – Mick Fire For Hire: Chapter Six

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.

VINNY (OS)

Good day ladies. My name is Vinny and I am an associate of Mr. Fire.

INT. HOLLWOOD BOWL – DAY

The last few minor adjustments are being made on stage. Strings are tuned. Lights are tweaked. A reanimated Mick darts around hither and yon. He is absolutely in his element.

Six models are led onto the side of the stage by Benny holding a clipboard and wearing a head mic. They are wearing terrycloth robes and flip flops. A grinning Vinny greets them almost instantly.

VINNY (CONT)

Mick has asked me to supervise the first rehearsal. So, if you could all remove your robes.

The girls comply. The beauty of the female body is on full display. Vinny is spellbound.

VINNY (CONT)

So, if you could each pick a partner and begin kissing and touching one another.

The girls giggle a little and awkwardly pair up. You can practically hear Vinny’s testicles pumping out spermatozoa.

VINNY (CONT)
This is rock and roll, ladies. Don’t hold anything back.

As Freda deep soul kisses her partner, she sees Mick in the distance. Her eyes shoot open in panic.

COLLEEN
Ow! Why don’t we save the rough stuff for the after-the-shoot party?

Freda realizes she’s got a vice-like grip on Colleen’s breast. She lets it go. They talk between smooches.

FREDA

Sorry. That’s the guy I was telling you about.

COLLEEN
What guy?

FREDA

The one on the bus. The guy who got his face pounded in by a super nice guy

Vinny walks by.

VINNY
Excellent, you two. More kissing and touching. Less talking.

He goes off to attend to two other girls.

COLLEEN
That’s Mick Fire – he’s the guy running this whole thing.

FREDA
Fuck!

She grabs her robe.

FREDA (CONT)
I’ll be back.

COLLEEN

That’s what you think.

Colleen turns to another couple of girls.

COLLEEN (CONT)
Any room for a third in here, ladies.

Colleen gets busy with it as Freda darts across the stage.

INT. JONSEY’S CAR – DAY

Abernathy gets into the car and hands Jonsey a big bag of food.

JONESY

So, what’s this?

ABERNATHY

Bibibop.

JONESY

What’s that?

ABERNATHY

Asian Grill.

JONESY

But, I thought we were getting Chipotle.

ABERNATHY

Couldn’t. Danny was in there.

JONESY

Again? That’s so unfair. They had it last night.

ABERNATHY

They’re criminals, Jonesy. They really don’t go in for “fair.

JONESY

It’s not that I don’t appreciate it.

He looks into the food bag dolefully.

JONESY
It’s just, you know, you get your mouth set for something. And after last night’s disappointment…

Jonsey’s face drops like a Walmart elevator.

ABERNATHY

Don’t mope like that. Jesus Christ, what were you in your last life, a cartoon hound dog?

JONESY

(beat)

You don’t have to pee again, do you?

ABERNATHY
I’m not made out of urine, you know.

JONSEY

(super mopey)

No. No. Of course you’re not.

She rolls her eyes and pulls down her pants.

ABERNATHY

Okay. Okay. Hand me the goddamn cup.

Jonesy’s mood re-brightens.

FREDA (OS)

Hi. Hello. Mr. Fire, sir?

INT. HOLLYWOOD BOWL – DAY

Freda stands behind Mick as he checks a light measurement. She taps him on the shoulder and he turns around to see a familiar face.

MICK

I remember you.

FREDA

I’m one of your models, today, sir. I know you have every friggin’ right in the world to fire me but please don’t, Mr. Fire.

MICK

Oh, it’s Mr. Fire now. As I recall, I used to be a lowlife weirdo.

FREDA

I know I said some terrible things and I’m super sorry about your choppers but, I just want you to know I’m sooo sorry and I’ll do anything you want me to do. In front of the camera and “other places”.

She opens her robe up to expose the whole pajama.

FREDA (CONT)

I got a dog at home, see. He’s such a sweet little boy and he’s real sick.

(getting emotional.

I just want to take him to the vet, is all. You can put it anywhere you want and I could take a pretty good slappin’, if I have to. Would that be okay?

Mick is momentarily frozen. After an introspective beat, he reaches out to close her robe.

MICK (sotto)
Goddamn this town.

FREDA
And it wouldn’t have to be just the once. Please, Mr. Fire.

MICK

Listen, these girlie shots aren’t going to be used.

(handing her some money)

Here’s 75 bucks to start. I’ll have your check messengered to you in an hour. Go home take that dog of yours to the vet.

FREDA

(confused)

Is this some sort a trick?

MICK

No. It’s me doing the first decent thing I’ve done in a decade. I’d get out of here if I were you, before the real me returns.

She swallows him up in a giant hug.

FREDA

I was so wrong about you.

(kisses him on the mouth)

You’s an angel from heaven. A veritable angel.

(pulling away from him)

And, I just want you to know…If ever I did want a really old guy to touch my snatch on a bus? It’d be you.

MICK
Thanks.

Freda doesn’t hear him. She’s already running for the dressing room.

INT. RECORD SHOP – DAY

Fanny is ushering the choir out of the store. Max takes the opportunity to inquire…

MAX
So, are we getting together tonight?

SKYCHILD
Oh absolutely. Though, Mick is on the wagon, so Thursday night is spoken for.

INT. HOLLYWOOD BOWL – DAY

Mick sits in a chair near the front of the stage and looks out over the expanse of seats. He lights a cigarette and blows the smoke towards the VIP boxes. Vinny sits down beside him.

VINNY
You were great today, Mick. I can see we have picked the right man for the job.

MICK
It was fun. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to be glad to be alive.

VINNY

Here…

Vinny pulls a big wad of bills out of his pocket.

VINNY (CONT)

I hope you don’t mind, I’m not a big fan of check books and accountants. I like to pay my bills in cash.

Mick is quick to claim the pile of precious paper and jam it into his pocket.

MICK
I promise not to tell my accountant, either.

VINNY
Excellent!

Vinny looks around, before taking a small bottle of whisky and two glasses out of his jacket. He hands one to Mick and pours.

VINNY

Also, I thought we should have a toast. Don’t tell Nobby.

MICK
(taking a taste)

My drunken lips are sealed.

Vinny pulls out a small bag of white powder.

VINNY
Do you like heroin?

MICK

It is my dearest, dearest friend. I can’t wait till I get cancer, so I can start taking it again.

Vinny puts the baggie away and raises his glass.

VINNY
To cancer.

MICK
To cancer.

They clink glasses. A small pause in the conversation.

VINNY

What happened to that girl who came over to talk to you? She disappeared.

MICK

Oh, she wasn’t feeling very well. I sent her home.

VINNY

Too bad. Very nice tits.

MICK

Sigh. They certainly were.

Vinny

(pulling card from pocket)

Here, this is a card signed by me. It will buy you a free drink at any bar in town.

Mick receives the gift with alcoholic alacrity.

MICK

Hmmm. I wonder how many bars there are between here and my house.

INT. MAX’S BEDROOM – NIGHT

Max and Skychild are locked in a big, wet soul kiss. They separate slightly.

MAX

I don’t know what you see in that fucking moron.

SKYCHILD

Probably the same thing you saw in him.

MAX

Yeah, but I was very young.

SKYCHILD

So am I.

MAX
I once blew the Grateful Dead rhythm section, including both drummers and ate magic mushrooms out of Grace Slick’s ass.

SKYCHILD
You win.

Max pops open the front catch on Sky’s bra and helps herself to the contents.

MAX
Good. Now turn your fucking phone off.

Max goes down onto her knees and begins unzipping Sky’s pants. Sky throws her phone over her shoulder. We see the phone light up. It’s Mick. The girls are way too busy with each other to notice.

INT. BAD GUY’S CAR – NIGHT

P.O.V.

Danny and Manny see Mick exiting The Bowl alone and heading towards the parking lot. He is a little unsteady on his feet.

DANNY
Looks like we’re on.

MANNY
You know, it really hurt my feelings when you called me gay.

DANNY

Shut the fuck up.

MANNY
You fuck up or you can go kill this guy all by yourself!

INT. JONSEY’S CAR – CONTINUOUS

P.O.V.

Abernathy watch Danny and Manny get out of their car. She taps an otherwise engaged Jonesy on the shoulder.

ABERNATHY
What do you suppose they’re up to?

Jonesy looks up to see.

JONSEY
Ah shit. I just got my sock off.

ABERNATHY
Do you have to clip your toenails in the car?

JONSEY
It’s my car. Nothin’ better to do.

ABERNATHY

Well, we do have something better to do. Some important FBI work and you’ve got your shoe off.

JONESY
So I’ll put it back on. Don’t have a big hairy.

ABERNATHY

That’ll take forever. This car’s too small for a man your size.

JONESY
Are we fat shaming now? Is that what we’ve become?

ABERNATHY
We haven’t become anything, Jonesy, except tired and smelly.

JONESY
I wasn’t going to mention anything but you…

Abernathy hauls of and slugs him in the shoulder.

JONESY (CONT)

FUCK!

(furious)

If you weren’t a woman, I’d slap your tits off.

EXT. HOLLYWOOD BOWL PARKING LOT – NIGHT

Mick is listening to a phone recording of Sky saying, “Please leave a message” and a beep. Mick’s voice betrays an intemperate consumption of alcohol as he leaves the requested voice mail.

MICK

Hello, Sky. It’s me Mick. The bad news is that our night of passion will have to wait until Friday. The good, wonderful, beautiful news is…

DONNY

Hey, scumbag.

Mick turns to face Danny and Manny.

MICK

Do I know you?

His answer is a thunderous right hook. He goes down like Tommy Hearns. The bad lads begin to kick him repeatedly.

MICK
Stop. I’m an old man!

MANNY
And not about to get too much older, filth sack.

DANNY
This is from your friend Bruno, puss jockey.

MICK
Who? I mean HELP!

Danny kicks Mick the chest propels Vinny’s card out of Mick’s pocket onto the ground.

INT. JONESY’S CAR – NIGHT

Their heated discussion on car etiquette has cooled a little.

JONESY

I’m sorry I said I’d slap your tits off, but that really hurt.

ABERATHY

And I’m sorry…

(looking up)

Holy fuck, they’re beating the shit out of a guy!

Both reach for their door handles.

EXT. HOLLYWOOD BOWL PARKING LOT – NIGHT

The kicking and taunting continues.

MANNY
Look for your name in the obituary column tomorrow. Cause it’s going to be there.

DANNY
Cause of death, “snatch grabbing.”

MICK
There’s been mistake.

DANNY
And you fucking made it, swill hips.

MANNY
Yeah, stay away from you lady’s pussies you perverted fuck.

MICK
But I just gave her…

Manny gives Mick a big kick to the head and knocks him out cold. Danny sees the card and picks it up.

DANNY

Fuck. This guy is one of Vinny’s boys.

(looking around nervously)

Let’s get the fuck out of here.

Manny and Danny see A & J approaching from a distance and hightail it.

Abernathy and Jonesy run over to the unconscious Mick. Jonesy is hopping a bit because he’s got on bare foot. There’s a moment of hesitation. Should they run after the bad guys or help Mick?

ABERNATHY
Sir? Can you hear me sir?

They roll him over and see Vinny’s card beneath his unconscious body.

ABERNATHY

Fuck! This guy is one of Vinny’s stooges. It’s looking like we’ve got a mob war on our hands.

Jonesy looks very concerned.

=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