AKIMBO!

By
Zak Thompson
INT. RITZY BAR - DUSK
A fancy bar, filled with well-dressed Russian men and women.
Gentle jazz fills the air. DICK SAVAGE, mid-30s, sits at the
counter, sporting an old track suit, a gruffy beard, and a
few emptied drinks in front of him. A WAITRESS approaches.
WAITRESS
(in a thick Russian accent)
Can I do you for another one,
darling?

DICK
Yeah, Tascha. Go mix me something
strong. Surprise me.
Waitress exits through a door into the back. Main bar door
opens, CHARLIE JOHNS, young 30s, enters. Dressed in country
club gear, polo and khakis, he meanders over to the seat
beside Dick.
DICK
Wondering if you were gonna show.

JOHNS
You know I never leave ya hangin’,
Dick.
DICK
Just get off the green?
JOHNS
I do not need your shit right now,
man-

DICK
Don’t know what you’re talking
about.
JOHNS
(without stop)
You’re gonna start in on how
Rolling Greens Estate is not-
DICK
(without stop)
There you go, assuming you know
exactly what I’m-
JOHNS
-a "suitable location for a badass
to be spending-
 2.

DICK
-talking about, when I’m just
trying to make-

JOHNS
-his time." Golfing doesn’t look
good for my rep. Whatever.
DICK
-pleasant conversation with my
friend and colleague.
Pause.
DICK
So. You make par?
JOHNS
Fuck you, Dick. And yes, I made
par.
(beat)
So who are these marks, anyway?
DICK
Russian mafia. Every last one of
them.

JOHNS
God damn.
DICK
You bet.

Short pause.
JOHNS
Charlene wants a divorce.

DICK
(nonchalant)
Boy, that sucks. Where’d that
waitress get off to?
JOHNS
She says I’m never around. That I
don’t act like I love her any more.
DICK
Been gone like 7 minutes.

JOHNS
I mean, she’s right of course, but
I didn’t think she’d actually go
this drastic on me.
 3.

DICK
That’s real rough, Char, you ready
to do this?
Johns gives a sigh.

JOHNS
Yeah, man. Maybe someone will have
the decency to finish me off this
time.

DICK
That’s the spirit. Let’s kill some
bitches.
Dick unzips his jacket to reveal two automatic pistols and a
Kevlar vest. He swiftly and flashily passes one to Johns,
taking the other for himself. They flip over the bar counter
and begin open fire on the bar attendees.
DICK
EAT LEAD, COCK-SUCKING COMMIE
MOTHERFUCKERS.

Stylized and calm, Johns fires while Dick shoots like a

beast unleashed. The Russians attempt to pull out their
heat, but are met with bullets from our heroes before they
can return fire.

As the bullets gorily rip into them, opening credits shoot

out of the wounds.
DICK
(a primal yell)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
Their guns click empty as the dust settles. The scene is a
crater of ridiculous blood, gore, and bullet holes.
The duo begins reloading their weapons until the waitress,
now cradling a baby in her arms, interrupts them by kicking
the back door open.
WAITRESS
American pigs.

JOHNS
Come on, now. Hiding behind a
child?
She rips the baby in half, revealing a sawn-off shotgun
inside. The bloody halves drop to the floor as she brings it
battle ready.
 4.

In intense slow-mo, Johns rips a metal cabinet from the back

wall, bringing it in front of the men as a shield, while
Dick simultaneously throws his prepared ammo clip towards
the waitress.

The waitress fires, her shots catching the clip in mid-air,

causing it to release all the shots at once in every
direction.
The camera follows a mass of bullets as they head towards
her, wrapping around her head as the shots enter her skull,
ending in the back. The bullets tear through completely,
shattering her head in a shower of gore.
AKIMBO!, the movie’s title, shoots out of her neck stump,
complete with bad explosion effect and fade to black...

EXT. GOLFING RANGE - NOON

... and fade back in high above the Rolling Greens Estate,
as the camera rolls in on Johns and Dick. Dick is garbed in
golfer’s attire, stretched too tight over his muscular body.
Johns smacks a ball into the distance.
DICK
You know, I really didn’t want to
say anything, but you need to work
on your kill-lines.

JOHNS
What are you talking about.
DICK
Back with the ruskies. What you
said after the waitress caught a
face full of molt.
JOHNS
What about it?

DICK
(disappointed)
"Sorry, my friend wanted his drink
shaken, not dead."

JOHNS
Yeah? What would you have said?
DICK
Probably something not dumb as
shit.
 5.

JOHNS
Fuck you, Dick.
DICK
(mockingly)
We’re at the country club, Charles.
It’s Richard here.
JOHNS
Why did I even invite you?

DICK
Hell if I know. Do I get points if
I hit another golfer?
Johns sighs.

DICK
You know, last man standing
sorta-thing?
JOHNS
It must be hard, Dick. A washed up
ex-soldier, making his living off
the left-over scraps of the big
assassination firms. You know it’s
bad when the only thing you have
left to make fun of is golf.

DICK
(sarcastic)
Ouch, Char. That cuts deep.
Dick smacks his ball. We hear a far off yelp of pain as a
noisy golf-cart approaches, transporting an older gentleman.
MYSTERIOUS MAN
How do you do, boys? I was hoping I
would find you here.

JOHNS
You know who we are?
MYSTERIOUS MAN
Dick Savage and Charlie Johns. Two
promising talents, no doubt.

DICK
Who are you, old man?
KENT
You can call me Kent.
 6.

He offers his hand graciously, while Dick and Johns

suspiciously eye him. He gives up.

KENT
Let’s get right down to business.
I’m a representative of the MWVF
Murder Agency-
DICK
Whoa, whoa, whoa. THE MWVF Murder
Agency? As in, the biggest
assassination corp on the globe?
KENT
Glad you’ve heard of us. Of course,
how could you not have? You’ve been
doing some real professional work
recently. A little sloppier than
what we’re used to, but effe-
JOHNS
This guy’s a fuck, Dick. There’s no
way.
Kent pulls down the collar of his polo, revealing MWVF
magnificently burned into his skin.

DICK
He’s legit, Char. He’s got the
mark.
JOHNS
So what do you want with us?
KENT
Well, we’d like to offer you boys
full time employment.

JOHNS
I’m not a murderer.
KENT
What you did last night, I suppose
that was an aggressive agrument,
then?
JOHNS
(flustered)
I owe this guy a lot of favors,
man, and sides, I’m not going to
let him go and get himself kill-
Dick puts a hand on Johns. He’s serious, for once.
 7.

DICK
Tell me more.
KENT
Well, we’d of course require a
mission free of charge, first, to
make sure you’re truly up to
standards-
JOHNS
This is a scam, Dick.

DICK
(silencing)
Charlie.
KENT
So, we present an offer. You do
this job for us, and you’re a full
time member of MWVF. For life.
JOHNS
Dick!-

DICK
Deal. What’s the job?
KENT
Kill the president.

DICK/JOHNS
What?!
KENT
We will pave the way for you,
Savage. Plan everything out. All
you have to do is follow said plan
to a T, and be ready to get your
hands a little dirty.

Johns pulls Dick aside, speaking to him more privately.

JOHNS
This is suicide.
DICK
I have to, Char.
JOHNS
It’s ludicrous. Insane.
Furthermore, it’s not even worth
it. You’re doing fi-
 8.

DICK
I was removed from the R-Pack PMC
13 long fucking years ago, Johns. I
have spent those years taking every
miserable, filthy job I could find
from any kind of low-life street
trash who offered. I am a soldier,
Char. I was born a soldier. And
right now, I’m wasting away on a
god damn golf-green. I have been
shooting for this job for years
now, and you god damn know it. If I
don’t rock this shit, I want to die
in the attempt.
JOHNS
Dick...

DICK
And I want you there with me,
Johns. One last favor. I can’t do
it without you.

A long, solemn pause.

JOHNS
Alright, Savage.
DICK
I knew I could count on you, man.
JOHNS
You know I never leave you hangin’.

The men brofist, and turn around to face Kent.

DICKS
We’re in.