Episode 7: Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

Night. Exterior of Kathy Moranth residence (Girlfriend of Richie Bruns). Richie arrives in a hurry, walks to the front door and starts pounding on it furiously and ringing the bell. He’s carrying a baseball bat. A neighbor hears the pounding and starts watching from behind the curtains. After a while Kathy opens the door.

Kathy: Hi lover! What’s with the bat?
Richie: Pack a bag, baby. We gotta get away for a spell.
Kathy: What are you talking about?
Richie: It’s Smitty. He’s flipped out. Thinks you’ve been talking to the cops.
Kathy: What are you talking about? Why would I be talking to the cops?
Richie grabs Kathy and shakes her.
Richie: Look, I don’t know what’s going through that crazy mind of his, but he’s hopping mad and out for blood, and I’m getting you out of his way.
Kathy: OK, but it’s gonna take me a few minutes to get some things together.
Richie: Step on it! I’ll hang out front in case he stops by.
Kathy closes the door and Richie heads to the sidewalk, looking around as he walks. He begins pacing up and down in front of the house, wielding the baseball bat. He swings the bat at some plants. A neighbor sees him patrolling and after watching for a few moments, picks up the phone and dials the police.
Neighbor: Hello, police? There’s a man walking up and down the street with a baseball bat. He’s threatened the girl in the house across the way and now he’s destroying the plants!
Cop on phone: Give me an address and we’ll send a patrol car over.
The neighbor gives the address on Malvern St. Cut to street sign with patrol car swerving around corner (if we get a running car from Truly Nolan). Cut to Richie, who spins his head round as he hears the car.
Richie: Shit! Smitty!
The cops pull up outside Kathy Moranth’s house. Cops get out and approach Richie. One (cop 1)  is older than the other (cop2).
Cop 1: Why don’t you put the bat down, fella? Nice and easy, like.
Richie: Ok, ok. I’m cool.
Richie puts the bat on the sidewalk and starts to walk towards the cops.
Cop 2: (yelling) Hey! That’s close enough punk.
Cop 2 draws his gun and points it towards Richie. Richie quickly puts his hands in the air and stops walking.
Richie: Woah, woah, woah! I ain’t meaning any trouble!
Cop 1 reaches over to the drawn gun, puts his hand on it and gently lowers it.
Cop 1: Take it easy, Frank. This guy isn’t going to give us any worry, are you pal?
Richie: No. No I ain’t. No worry at all.
Cop 1: Why don’t you just sit down there (motions to curb) and tell us what the story is?
Richie sits on the curb and the cops stand over him.
Richie: I gotta say, I’m glad it’s you that turned up.
Cop 1: Who were you expecting?
Richie: S-Some other guy.
Cop 1: This other guy have a name?
Richie: I can’t. (Lowering his head) He’s my pal.
The front door of the house opens and Kathy comes running down the path towards Richie and the cops. Cop 2 draws his gun and points it in Kathy’s direction.
Cop 2: Freeze!
Cop 1: Will you stop pointing your gun at everyone! Anyone with a good pair of eyes can see these kids aren’t going to give us any trouble. For crying out loud, what kind of training are they giving you recruits these days?
Cop 1 again pushes the gun down and Cop 2 holsters it. Kathy runs over to Richie.
Kathy: What’s going on? Richie, you in trouble?
Cop 2: We got an eye-witness report that this fella threatened you, roughed you up some. Then, to make things worse, took to destroying some of your beautiful plants there (motions to the plants Richie hit with the bat). 
Kathy: That’s crazy! Richie never laid a finger on me ever. He’s just scared that Smitty is gonna do something bad.
Cop 1: Smitty? I’ve heard that name before somewhere.
Kathy: I’ll bet you have. Smitty’s mixed up in all kinds of trouble. Walks around like he’s so damn cool. Tells folk he…
Richie: Put a lid on it, Kathy. (To the cops) She doesn’t know anything, really. She’s had it in for him from day one. Always saying I’m spending too much time with him instead of her.
Cop 1: Say, (to cop 1) isn’t that the guy that Wilhelm’s been looking for?
Cop 2: Yeah, I think you’re right.
Cop 1: You wanna tell me more about this Smitty character?
Richie: Leave Kathy out of this. You promise she’ll be safe and I’ll tell you some stuff.
Cop 1: Why don’t you come downtown with us? I think our Detective Wilhelm will be anxious to talk to you. Kathy, why don’t you go inside, lock the doors and if this Smitty character comes by, just give me a call. I’ll send a patrol car right over.
Richie: (To Kathy) Go ahead doll. I’ll be OK. It’ll be cool.
Richie gets up and walks to the police car. He and the cops get in, Kathy watches, then walks to the house and enters. Richie sees her close the front door.
Richie: OK. Let’s go.
Kathy puts the chain on the door. Cut to Smitty at his house. He’s frantically packing a case for his forced trip to Mexico. As he packs he’s mumbling under his breath.
Smitty: Fucking bitch. I’ll show her…blabbing that big mouth of hers…I’ll slice her good.
He opens a drawer on a side table and pulls out a switchblade which he puts in his pocket. On top of the table is a framed photograph of his Mother. He picks it up and looks at it.
Smitty: Why can’t these damn broads be more like you, Ma? You always looked after me, treated me nice. Didn’t kick up a fuss if I used your things. Now I get women who just cannot be trusted with anything. Running their mouths off, watching every little thing you do, giggling among themselves like they got the goods on ya….Fuck! Gretchen and that Goddamn Diary!
He goes into the bathroom, taking the photo with him, and carefully puts the frame down on the vanity. He opens the medicine cabinet and grabs a bottle of blonde hair dye. We see other jars of grooming products more associated with a woman’s makeup collection.
Smitty: Don’t you worry, Ma. Once I’ve gone over to Gretchen’s and sorted a few things out,  I’ll be away for a spell, going down to Mexico. They have a beach down there that’s outta sight! Crystal clear waters, golden sand, and just crawling with girls. Not blonde ones the way I like, but I got a remedy for that. He closes the cabinet and holds the bottle of dye in front of the photo.
Smitty: See, Ma! I can make a girl look just right!
Smitty looks at himself in the mirror. He examines himself carefully, opens the cabinet again and takes a jar of foundation makeup and carefully applies it to his face. Then he takes an eyelash pencil and gives himself a beauty mark. He looks himself over once more with an approving eye.
Smitty: OK bitch, I’m coming for you now.