Darrell Vickers – Mick Fire For Hire: Chapter Eight (Episode 2 – Part 4)

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.

INT. COLOR ME MINE – DAY

Nobby sits across from Burton Cummings and Randy Bachman as they paint clay vases. Burton has a nice cartoon duck going while Randy’s creation is more floral.

NOBBY

So you’ll do it?

BURTON

You’re just asking us because we’re Canadians and too nice to say no.

RANDY

That’s really unfair.

BURTON
Are Australians nice? Maybe you could ask Missy Higgins to do it.

NOBBY

(shaking head)

Nah, he barfed on her tits.

RANDY/BURTON

Hers too?

BURTON
Is there something about women’s breasts that makes him feel nauseous?

NOBBY

(after a beat)

So… you guys will be there, right?

RANDY

Why don’t you ask Gordon Lightfoot or Bruce Cockburn?

BURTON

Yeah, Canadian folkies are even nicer than Canadian rockers.

NOBBY

(waving the metaphorical carrot)
Ringo is going to be there.

Burton and Randy are given pause by this piece of news.

INT. THE FIRE KITCHEN – DAY

 

Skychild polishes the ferret coffin. The door slams and Fanny storms into the room.

FANNY

Where the hell did you get to? You’re Mick’s girlfriend. You should have been there.

SKYCHILD

I so wanted to be, but a huge‑ical, major problem has arisen.

FANNY

Huge-ical?

SKYCHILD

I’ve been doing some super‑intensive research and gravesites in L.A. are a minimum of 3,000 dollars and that’s in a shithole like Covina.

FANNY

Oh no! Buried in Covina! The shame!

SKYCHILD

Exactly. And I thought the coffin was expensive. Poor Ethelred is going to be homeless or forever marooned in the Inland Empire.

Looking over at the coffin.

FANNY

I sense Ethel is prepared to hold out for the right subterranean opportunity.

Sky strokes the homeless coffin’s head.

SKYCHILD

I sure hope so. Souls of the dead can be somewhat unpredictable.

Despite knowing better, Fanny can’t help but be compassionate.

FANNY
Listen, I just landed four hundred dollars.

(pulling it out of her pocket)

I guess I can donate a C-note or so to Ethelred’s eternal reward.

Gigantic hug.

SKYCHILD
Yaza! I just know that all our bad boats are going to sink now and our future seas will to be verily overflowing with yachts of grinning bunnies. This is the answer to everything!

FANNY
Are you dry humping me?

Sky releases Fanny.

SKYCHILD
Only slightly.

FANNY
I can’t believe I’m doing this. I should be spending that money on our dead fridge, not a dead ferret. At least we knew the fridge when it was alive.

SKYCHILD
You silly.

(kissing Fanny’s forehead)

We’re going to get a new refrigerator and everything else we truly need. Your super sweet and generous offer has set our Karma Train in motion and that Love Locomotive will simply keep on a-chugga-chuggin’ until it reaches the station of ultimate fulfillment.

FANNY
What happened to the sinking boats?

SKYCHILD

(kissing Fanny’s forehead)

All you need to do is believe, oh cynical one.

FANNY
And could you quit kissing my forehead? I’m not two.

SKYCHILD
Num num. You certainly aren’t.

FANNY

Okay, Ms. Metaphysical, how about a wager? If we have a working fridge in this apartment in the next 24 hours, I’ll let you finish dry humping me.

Sky jumps up and down, unable to contain her excitement.

FANNY (CONT’D.)

BUT, if all this predestined boat/train magic shit fails to produce a place to store our popsicles….

SKYCHILD
I store mine in your father’s pants.

FANNY
(shuddering)
Please.

(regaining her composure)

If the impossible happens and all we have tomorrow is this…

(indicating fridge)

stinky cupboard, you will stop sleeping with my mother. How’s that?

SKYCHILD
Yes. Yes. And a thousand times YES!

Sky swallows Fanny up in another gigantic hug and whispers sexily in her ear.

SKYCHILD (CONT’D.)
I’m going to wear some really thin leggings and no bra. Maybe a tank top.

Fanny looks like she’s having the life crushed out of her.

FANNY

Tomorrow. You don’t get to dry hump me ’til tomorrow.

SKYCHILD
Ooops.

INT. BASEMENT DUNGEON – NIGHT

Danny and Manny continue to hang upside down. Bruno and a menacing stooge have dropped by for a chat.

BRUNO

I’ve decided to possibly forgive you two idiots.

DANNY
Please, Bruno.

MANNY

We’ll never do exactly what you tell us to again!

BRUNO

I’m considering the possibility that this was all a setup.

DANNY
We were thinking along those very same lines.

MANNY
It’s spooky how much in sync we are.

BRUNO

(to his stooge)

Arnie, if either one of them speaks again, cut off their nose.

Arnie pulls out a switchblade and flicks it open.

SALLY (OS)

Hey.

INT. MICK’S HOSPITAL SUITE – CONTINUOUS

SALLY WILSON, a good looking woman in her mid 20s, enters the room. She’s dressed in an obscenely sexy nurse’s outfit, boobs pushed up under her chin. Sally does not seem overjoyed to be there. She looks upon the heavily medicated Mick like he’s dog shit.

MICK

(smiles)

Hello.

SALLY

(deadpan)

My name is Sally Wilson. Please remember it – Sally Wilson – because other parties will inquire about me at a future date.

MICK
Is it time for another sponge bath?

SALLY

Oh, if only that was all there were to it.

MICK
Perhaps it’s this wonderful morphine, but I’m not quite getting what you’re trying to tell me.

SALLY

(almost reciting)
I’m a gift from Vinny and I can’t wait to suck on that huge and gorgeous cock of yours.

MICK
Oh. I see.

SALLY

(deadpan)

So, do you like your ball-sack peppered with a thousand licks of lubricous love first or should I just dive onto your knob and save us both a lot of time?

MICK

(kindly)

You don’t have to do this. Why don’t you just thank Vinny for me and…

SALLY

Listen old man, I’m only here to blow you because it’s better than having to eat my dismembered husband’s eyeballs. But only slightly. So why don’t you just lay back and enjoy the pageantry and I’ll try very hard not to puke on your nuts.

Sally takes a deep breath to gird herself for the grim inevitable. She lifts up the sheet and lowers her head inside.

SALLY (CONT’D.)

Oh my God! Just look at this ugly thing.

MICK
I’m practically coming, already.

INT. BAD GUYS’ CAR – NIGHT

Danny and Manny drive away from Bruno’s place in the hills.

MANNY

I never liked Arnie.

DANNY

A bona fide jerk-off.

MANNY

Total fucker.

DANNY

Is that smell just me or did you shit your pants too?

MANNY

Oh, that’s both of us. Yeah.

DANNY

It’s weird doing it upside down.

MANNY

Not an improvement, no way.

EXT. BAD GUYS’ CAR – NIGHT

The two embarrassed strongmen disappear into the evening palms.

DANNY (OS)

That son of a bitch.

MANNY (OS)

A complete piss licker.

DANNY
Do you suppose any clothing stores are open this time of night?

EXT. VENICE STREET – MORNING

Ringo Starr walks down the side of a canal in a very nice area of the city. He is on the phone.

RINGO

No Nobby. I’m in Venice, Italy, not California.

(beat)

Besides, I despise Mick Fire. He once stuck a Thomas the Tank Engine up his arse and farted it onto my cornflakes.

(beat)

Well, Burton and Randy are Canadian. They’re too nice to turn you down. I’m from fucking Liverpool.

(beat)

OKAY, OKAY, JUST DON’T CALL AGAIN, ASSHOLE!!!

Ringo closes his phone and throws it into the canal. Tourists stare at him.

RINGO (CONT’D.)

(smiling to crowd)

The wife wants me to row her to dinner, tonight.

INT. MICK’S HOSPITAL SUITE – NIGHT

Sally looks exhausted. Her hair is mussed and she’s feeling her aching jaw.

SALLY

Well, that certainly took a while.

MICK

Really. The time seemed to fly by.

SALLY

Okay, I’m done, and you can tell that scumbag, Vinny, I swallowed, God help me, as dictated. Luckily, I can go right next door and get my stomach pumped.

(holding out a sheet of paper and a pen)

Sign here.

VINNY (OS)

My trip to Colombia must be postponed for a week or so.

EXT. MALIBU BEACH – CONTINUOUS

Vinny walks his dog on the ultra-exclusive sand. Benny and Lenny are armed and in tow. He jabbers on the phone as his golden retriever romps in the surf.

VINNY (CONT)

(into phone)

I have some nettlesome business to attend to here.

Vinny notices that his dog’s ball is floating in the surf. He nods to Lenny, who wades out into the water, in his $1,000 suit, to retrieve it.

VINNY (CONT’D.)

Is the record pressing proceeding, according to schedule?

As he listens to the answer, Janet Jackson walks by.

JANET
Hi Vinny. Hi Benny, Hi Lenny.

They smile and wave back as she passes.

VINNY

Excellent. The Civilians will begin their tour by the agreed upon date, in Bogata. The albums must be shipped to the U.S. in time to coincide with their “Welcome Home” concert at the Coliseum.

Vinny puts away his phone as he comes to a head sticking out of the sand.

VINNY

Hello, Mr. Jones. How are your swimming skills?

LEONARD
Mercyyyyyy! I’ll pay! I’ll pay!

Vinny crouches down to address the head up close.

VINNY

So Leonard, Benny here tells me that you own a substantial household appliance business.

INT. FIRE LIVING ROOM – DAY

Fanny and Skychild sit cross-legged on the floor. They are wearing sweats and have lit candles sticking out of their ears.

SKYCHILD
So, how come we’re doing this with our clothes on, today?

FANNY

Because we need to recalibrate the dynamics of our relationship to a more traditional step-mother/step-daughter consanguinity.

SKYCHILD

That doesn’t sound like much fun.

FANNY

I, long ago, gave up all hope of ever having fun. Now, I just want my life to be mellow.

SKYCHILD
And you feel mellower with your clothes on?

Fanny closes her eyes and opens her arms to the universe.

FANNY

Precisely. I feel sooo much more mellow. I am at one with all and…

There’s a knock at the door. Fanny angrily plucks the candles from her ears and throws them on the ground.

FANNY (CONT)
FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

Fanny marches towards the front door.

FANNY
Who the fucking fuck fuck can that be?

=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