Welcome back, Eagle Crowingtons! Let's see, where were we... Ah, yes!
With Garbo ready to load up and take out his rival once and for all, and Eagle and Harmony working to patch up their frayed and tattered relationship, maybe you've all been lead to a happy ending! On the other hand, maybe the shit is going to hit the fan and someone is going to take a shit directly on everyone's pancakes. You've been keeping up so far, so guess which one happens!
And now, ladies and gentlemen, the penultimate episode of the first season of Eagle Crow!
EPISODE 9: DICE rolls YOU!
[Harmony and Penelope's phone call continues. ]
Penelope: “I'll make this brief. Your boyfriend, Eagle? Well... I'm sorry to be the one to have to tell you this, but, he killed your father.”
[Harmony breaks down sobbing, incensed.]
Harmony: “What???”
Penelope: “I wish it wasn't true, but I witnessed it happen. I'm a CIA agent, Miss Carrack. Eagle has gotten himself involved with a, well, the way we refer to him in the agency is a “Broken Arrow”. He's a rogue operative, just a weapon with a heartbeat. It's not the Agency's intention to break the mental state of its agents down to a point where they lose contact with human emotions, but unfortunately it can be a consequence of... hey... can you hear what I'm saying? You're crying pretty hard there.”
[Harmony wails a loud wail, but it's clearly an attempt to communicate.]
Penelope: “Uh... huh. Yeah, I apologize, I am just as impacted by some of the things this job entails as Garbo. I have a bond with my human side, though, Miss Carrack, and I hold on to it tight. I know this must be awful for you. I am so, so incredibly sorry.”
Harmony: “How could he dooo this to meeee?!!?!?!”
Penelope: “If I had to guess, and this is giving Eagle credit – since he didn't seem like the kind of person who would kill, based on the psych profile we've whipped up since this situation started... well, I hope it brings you some degree of comfort that it's this Broken Arrow that forced his hand.”
Harmony: “I don't CARE!!!! EAGLE IS DEAD!!!”
Penelope: “Ooh, heh, hey, you're loud. Maybe it's worth considering a more measured response, though, right?”
Harmony: “Am I confessing to anything by saying this to you?? Is this going to end up as evidence?”
Penelope: “Well, no, I don't have any actual law enforcement powers in the CIA, so...”
[Harmony immediately stops crying. The makeup running down her face covers an otherwise blank expression.]
Harmony: “Then Eagle Crow's feathers are going to get plucked. And your guy? You can say goodbye to him, too.”
[Penelope remains silent, notably speechless.]
Harmony: “Is there anything else to this conversation?”
Penelope: “Um, nope. Nope, that's everything. Seriously, though, Miss Carrack, I do recommend tha---”
[Harmony hangs up the phone. She texts the address to Dice, and includes the message 'KILL EAGLE'. She then dials Eagle. Eagle answers quickly, having nothing else to do. In fact, seeing it's Harmony actually lifts his spirits a bit.]
Eagle: “Baby!”
Harmony: “Eagle.”
Eagle: “Uhhh.. what's goin' on, girl?”
Harmony: “Goodbye.”
[Harmony hangs up the phone. Eagle can only stare at it for about a minute after. It takes him a second to come up with a theory for what happened. Having been tilting a kitchen chair back as he talked, the moment the realization hits he drops back all floor legs onto the floor.]
Eagle: “Fuck.”
[Eagle dials a Garbo, who stands in the back parking lot of the Citgo, now joined by a white panel van, and an awkwardly shaped guy dressed like Don Johnson in Miami Vice.]
Garbo: “Dammit, Chelsea, all you brought was boxes of dick! Fuckin' AKs? I fuckin' hate AKs! You realize this is America, right?”
Chelsea: “Well you didn't say what you wanted! I just brought over whatever was closest to the van!”
[Garbo pulls out a very, very old looking revolver, like a Webley or something. His face speaks for his incredulity.]
Chelsea: “Hey, that's a .45! You can shoot through kevlar with that!”
Garbo: “Man, I was really fucking hoping that I would roll up on Penelope, looking like I just came out of the fuckin' Matrix, you know? Fuckin' G36 in one hand, TAVOR in the other, just goin' like 'whuh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh', make her think Neo the motherfuckin' One just came to claim her ass. This is looking more like The Delta Force, with Lee Marvin. Which is also a fuckin' awesome movie, but old man! Not Matrix-y enough!”
Chelsea: “Yeah, well, beggars can't be---”
Garbo: “Don't you fuckin' finish that axiom. God, you're the worst handler.”
Chelsea: “Garbo, that's really mean. I came all the way across town to you on short notice, and I did bring exactly what you asked for, so I'd really like it if you would apologize to me.”
Garbo: “I'll put it on my Bucket List. God damn, whoa... wait. Is that a fuckin' KelTec KSG?”
Chelsea: “Oh, yeah! Yeah, I thought you'd like that one. I wish I'd remembered I brought it before you started verbally abusing me.”
Garbo: “Hey, I haven't said it once.”
Chelsea: “No you haven't, but you're referencing it for me now. It's a trigger, Garbo, please just... just don't do it.”
Garbo: “Chelsea Handler.”
Chelsea: “Garbo! Okay, that's... that's it. You take your three favorite things from the van, and I'm leaving. I don't need to put up with any of this. I take medication for this, Garbo! You've made me turn to pharmaceutical drugs!”
[Garbo emerges from the back of the van with the KSG, a scoped Mosin-Nagant, and a bipod for the Mosin, along with cases of ammo. He starts stuffing things into a duffel back when he looks back to Handler.]
Garbo: “Chelsea Handler.”
[Chelsea throws his hands up and snarls. He walks over next to Garbo and closes the van's back doors, glowering at Garbo the whole time, and he gets in the driver's seat, and drives away.]
Garbo: “Chelsea Handler!”
[Garbo looks around the area, and he notices a significantly tough looking biker looking at him about 200 feet away, arms crossed and leaning against his parked bike. Garbo cocks an eyebrow in concern, but he heads to the Citgo sign anyway – keeping his eye on the biker until he is out of view.]
Garbo: “Well that doesn't bode well.”
[Garbo looks around the daytime street, wondering if anyone in particular is paying attention to him. Slinging the duffel over his shoulder, he begins to climb up the sign. When he reaches the top, he pulls the Mosin out of the bag, and rests it on top of the sign. He peers out toward the loft above the carniceria. Inside, he sees Penelope happily combing the hair on one of what would appear to be many small dolls arranged around a toy table... on top of an actual table.]
Garbo: “What a weird fuckin' bitch.”
[Garbo's finger comes to the trigger, and he slowly begins to prepare his shot. Breathing in deeply, he begins to squeeze the Mosin's trigger. Before he reaches breaking point, though, a shotgun blast smacks into the sign. The shot manages to knock Garbo's gun right out of his hands, sending it flying with enough force to smack Garbo in the face as it flips away. Garbo loses his grip on the sign, and falls about 30 feet. Luckily, he falls into a dumpster, which breaks his fall with warm slurpee juice and homeless person vomit. Hurts like a bitch though, still.
The duffel bag is still there, so, groaning, he pulls the KSG out, and begins to load it with shells. Suddenly, he hears shots pang against the dumpster, watching as the metal indents toward him as the shot makes contact. Taking in a bunch of quick, deep breaths, he leaps out of the dumpster – which is more of an awkward flop, as he catches his foot on the lip of the dumpster as he jumps. Another shot is fired, but it misses him, and he scrambles around past the dumpster.]
Garbo: “Ohhhhhh fuck, my back and also my balls.”
[Garbo's phone begins to ring. He looks down, and it's an unknown number. He knows exactly who it is, though, and he answers.]
Garbo: “What's with the dollies, bitch? Is that some sort of symbol for your horribly tragic youth?”
Penelope: “No one. No one. Talks about my dollies.”
Garbo: “Well, the first rule about Doll Club is don't fuckin' have Doll Club. It's fuckin' off-putting.”
Penelope: “Garbo, it sounds like there's a lot going on out there. I'm guessing you didn't pop by to fill up your tank?”
Garbo: “This one of your NCSS guys out here? Tough looking motherfucker, but that uniform ain't regulation.”
Penelope: “Gosh, Garbo, I'm just as surprised as you are! I have no idea who could be out there with you!”
[Another shot pings against the dumpster.]
Penelope: “Sounds like you've got your hands full, though, so I think I'm going to use the opportunity to come kill you myself. See you soon, Garby!”
Garbo: “Just imagine the most sexist, heinous threat I could deliver.”
Penelope: “Don't make me blush.”
[Penelope hangs up the phone, and she grabs her own TAVOR off of a nearby wall. She cocks the gun, grabs a few magazines, and looks down at her “dollies”.]
Penelope: “Sorry babies. Momma's got big girl work to do.”
[She begins to walk out, toting the gun in her arm, but she suddenly balks, and takes a step back. She points accusingly at the “dollies”.]
Penelope: “No. I didn't not say that. No, you-- you are completely taking that out of context.
[She pauses for a second, as though listening to someone.]
Penelope: “Well have your father take you for ice cream! ARGGH! I can't deal with this right now! I have to GO!”
[Penelope shakes her head angrily, and walks out the door. She simply walks through the carniceria, toting the TAVOR casually, and she pops on a pair of aviator sunglasses. Everyone in the carniceria, already cowering from the earlier shops, just stares and watches her as she walks through.]
[Garbo is still crouched behind the dumpster, but suddenly a vollet of shot pierces through both sides of the metal beside him.]
Garbo: “Yup.”
[He leaps to a crouching position, and, taking in more deep, quick breaths, he makes a run for the side of the gas station that doesn't face the shooter. As he does, he suddenly finds himself narrowly dodging a three round burts from an entirely new direction – the direction of the carniceria. As he reaches the back wall of the Citgo station, he flattens his back to the wall, pondering his next move.
Reaching into the duffel bag, he pulls out the bipod, and quietly sets the KSG on the ground. He creeps his way to the other side of the wall, where the biker dude was shooting from, and he waits there for a moment. As soon as he sees the shotgun barrel inch around the corner, he grabs it, pulls it away, which pulls Dice along with it.
Garbo smacks him in the face with the folded bipod, and then smacks him right below his knee with it. He then pulls the open duffel bag over his head, and, still holding onto the bag and therefore Dice, he forces Dice to run with him toward the other side of the wall. Garbo then tosses Dice around the corner, stopping before he gets there himself.
Seeing someone in black suddenly jump out of the corner, Penelope dumps three bursts of three into him. As she begins to cautiously approach the now motionless, but still unidentified body, Garbo quickly creeps back to the other side of the building, snatching up the KSG on the way. As Penelope approaches, she sees that the body is wearing, like, way more leather than Garbo would ever be caught in. It's too late for her to realize that, though, as Garbo has now jumped back on his Ducati, and is taking off down an alley way out of Penelope's view.
Hearing the sound of the bike taking off in a hurry, Penelope runs to the car of someone who vacated the situation in the middle of pumping gas into their donked-out Buick Roadmaster – complete with a Waffle Houe theme. Finding the ignition just a switch instead of a key, she jumps into the too-tall, too-ugly family sedan and floors the pedal.
Maneuvering the bike through the alleyway and out onto the main street, he dials Eagle in his helmet.]
Garbo: “Siri! Dial 'Skidmark'!”
[Eagle again answers immediately.]
Eagle: “Hey, what's going on?”
Garbo: “It's fuckin' Armagideon Time.”
[Cut to black, episode ends. Ending theme: “Armagideon Time” by Willie Williams.]
COMING TOMORROW:
Episode 10 - How Deep Is Your Love?
