FLAMING SPADE

And the winners are:
Humphrey Bogart (33%) as Sam Spade
Sharon Stone (33%) as Ilsa
Thank you for voting!

FADE IN:

INT. PRIVATE DETECTIVE'S OFFICE - NIGHT

Disheveled piles of papers dominate the DETECTIVE'S dimly lit office. When a WOMAN appears at the door,

DETECTIVE (VO)
Of all the detective agencies in every town,
in all the world, she walks into mine.

Without exchanging a word, she sits opposite SAM SPADE.

SPADE
Cigarette?

WOMAN
Sure.

After lighting her cigarette, he sits on the edge of the desk facing her.

SPADE
You're looking good, Ilsa.

Inhaling the compliment with her cigarette, she smirks.

ILSA
When I was referred to you, I had no idea
it would be -- you.

SPADE
Who'd you expect?

ILSA
The sensitive young man I wanted to marry.

As Spade returns to his chair,

ILSA
You've got quite the reputation.

SPADE
What's that?

ILSA
A hard, no-nonsense detective. Exactly
what I need now.

SPADE
Yeah? Why?

ILSA
I've been accused of embezzling thousands
of dollars from my husband.

SPADE
Did you?

As she abruptly rises,

ILSA
(defiantly)
I'm innocent!

SPADE
I believed you once and I got a year in the
county jail. Why should I believe you now?

WOMAN
Because...

Spade notices the end of a revolver as the door slowly opens. He rushes to Ilsa, pulling her to the floor as a SHOT shatters the window.

SPADE
Before I call the cops, tell me what's going on.

ILSA
I don't know.

As he dials,

SPADE
Your lover?

ILSA
(reluctantly)
My...brother.

SPADE
Here's looking at you kid--in jail.

ILSA
Why, Sam? Why?

SPADE
You broke my heart, baby.

ILSA
I didn't ask you to steal that diamond
necklace.

SPADE
I would have stolen the county treasury
for you, and you knew it.

ILSA
But I never wanted that, Sam. Never!

SPADE
No. You wanted my heart.

ILSA
And you never gave it to me.

Spade stares at her long and hard over the rim of his glass of gin. The phone RINGS, startling him, causing him to spill the drink on himself.

Suddenly, sparks fly from Spade's hands, his face, then all parts of his body. Ilsa recoils at the sight and flees as the sparks ignite the papers. In the flames,

SPADE
We'll always have Paris. We'll always
have Paris. Here's looking at you, kid.
Here's looking at you, kid. I'm HAL of
the 9000 computer series.
(in slo mo)
Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do...

FADE TO BLACK

**written by petra michelle**

http://petramichelle.blogspot.com/