Vampire's Last Bite

1. EXT. FRENCH QUARTER — LATE AFTERNOON

Title card: New Orleans

Pushing her way (somewhat irritated) through the crowd is LUCY HOMEWOOD, 42, a woman of color, ravishing beauty.

She wears dark designer jeans, a starched white shirt with an upturned collar, a bold necklace, red lipstick, and Louis Vuitton stilettos.

On edge, she plods down the damp French Quarter sidewalk, quickly drying from an afternoon thunderstorm, and heads towards a nail salon.

2. INT. SPA — CONTINUOUS

MINA LEE, 50s, dressed in drag, eccentric, hugs her.

MINA (ecstatic): Here comes the bride!

Mina pins a white carnation to Lucy’s shirt, then rushes Lucy to the pedicure spa chair.

Lucy removes her stilettos, plunges her feet in the bowl.

MINA (CONT’D): Is that too hot?

LUCY: Make it scalding.

Mina obliges, turns up the hot water.

MINA (curious): How’d everything go?

Mina nudges her, smiling.

LUCY (frustrated): We haven’t done it yet.

MINA (concerned): You’ve been married a week.

As Lucy complains, images of characters pierce the dialogue.

LUCY: I talked to my therapist. She was Catholic — a member of the Dominican order until her expulsion. Now she’s an Episcopal priest, and studies mystics. I mean, I don’t want a therapist who’s a pagan when I may be endangered.

Stern face of Episcopal priest and psychiatrist, DR. MARIA VAN HELSING, 50s.

LUCY (CONT’D): Dr. Van Helsing says I need patience. I’m trying to make God-centered choices.

Mina grabs Lucy’s foot, excavates a toe nail.

LUCY (CONT’D) (shrieks): Don’t draw blood.

Mina pours Lucy a glass of Chardonnay.

LUCY (CONT’D): Drake’s a workaholic. He says “No time off in the funeral business. Death is 24/7.”

Image of DRAKE VLAD, 48, gorgeous, wild eyes, electric smile.

MINA: What’s he like?

Lucy plunges a foot on a hot towel.

LUCY: Tall, strong, lean.

She sucks hard on a mint.

LUCY (CONT’D): Although I dare not think what has kept him in shape.

Mina laughs, slaps Lucy’s calves.

LUCY (CONT’D): We got married so quickly. He wanted a proper —

MINA (ordering): Trade him in.

LUCY: Look, I can’t hurt him. He’s evolving, he’s interested in the afterlife, exploring what lies beyond. And he believes in me, and in my writing. Do you know how incredible it feels to be with a partner who passionately values your talent?

Mina brushes her off, holds up 2 nail polishes.

MINA: Blood red or virgin pink?

Lucy points at the pink polish, bats her eyelashes playfully.

LUCY: Pink, please.

Lucy’s cell rings, reads: EX. She clicks off the phone.

LUCY (CONT’D) (dismissive): The only men who call are the ones you shouldn’t talk to.

Image of JONATHAN HARKER, 29, slightly nerdy but still handsome, dressed in a buttoned up plaid shirt and acid-washed dad jeans.

Lucy gulps Chardonnay, shows Mina her cell phone.

LUCY (CONT’D): Young poet everyone has fallen in love with. He still lives with his mother.

MINA (giggles): Mama’s boy? Your brokenness is getting more broken.