TURBO Screenplay Episode 5 "East L.A. Noir: Snake Eyes to Turbo" by Robert Nerbovig Distribution, sale, duplication, or any other unauthorized use of this material in whole or in part is strictly prohibited. © 2025. All rights reserved. FADE IN: 1 EXT. EAST LOS ANGELES - LIQUOR STORE – NIGHT                           1 Neon lights buzz and flicker above the rundown liquor store on Whittier Boulevard. The street is quiet—too quiet. A stray dog noses through a pile of trash as the faint sound of bolero music drifts from a distant radio. GANG MEMBER (V.O.) Ain’t no such thing as an easy gig in this town. Every favor comes with a price, and every job leaves a scar. Moe knew that better than anyone. Moe "Snake-Eyes" Juarez leans against a black Chevy Fleetline, taking a drag from his cigarette. His trench coat is worn, his fedora low over his eyes. Across the street, a YOUNG WOMAN in a tight red dress paces nervously outside the liquor store. GANG MEMBER (V.O.) She had the look of trouble. The kind that gets a man killed or makes him rich—sometimes both. Moe flicks his cigarette to the ground and crosses the street. The woman spots him and hesitates, clutching her purse like it holds the weight of the world. MOE Miss Lopez, I presume? The woman nods, eyes darting down the block like she expects the devil himself to show up. CARMEN LOPEZ You the detective? MOE Depends who’s asking. You got something for me? Carmen glances over her shoulder, then pulls a crumpled envelope from her purse. Moe takes it, his fingers brushing against something cold—metal. He pulls out a single POLAROID PHOTO. The image: A DEAD MAN slumped in a booth at an all-night diner, a bullet hole between his eyes. Blood smeared across a half-eaten plate of chilaquiles. GANG MEMBER - V.O. That’s when I knew this wasn’t just another cheating husband or lost dog case. This was something else. Something worse. CARMEN LOPEZ That’s my brother, Detective. And I need you to find out who killed him. Moe exhales slowly, tucking the photo into his coat. MOE Alright, Miss Lopez. Tell me everything. CARMEN LOPEZ There’s more. I think they’re after me too. Before Moe can respond, a loud SCREECH of tires echoes down the street. A black sedan barrels toward them, headlights blinding. MOE Get down! Moe grabs Carmen and dives behind a parked car as GUNFIRE erupts. Bullets tear through the night, shattering glass and ricocheting off metal. The sedan speeds off just as quickly as it appeared. GANG MEMBER - V.O. Yeah. This was more than just a simple murder. Someone wanted to make sure Carmen never told her story. Moe helps Carmen to her feet, both breathing heavy. MOE Looks like we’re in business, Miss Lopez. FADE TO BLACK. FADE TO: 2 INT. MOE'S OFFICE – NIGHT                                                                          2 The ceiling fan spins lazily, casting slow-moving shadows on the wall. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sits next to Moe’s revolver on the desk. Carmen clutches her purse, her knuckles white. MOE Alright, start from the beginning. Who was your brother mixed up with? CARMEN LOPEZ His name was Enrique. He was a waiter at La Estrella Diner… but he was into something bad. He never told me what. Just that if something happened to him, I should find you. Moe swirls the whiskey in his glass, thinking. MOE And the Polaroid? Where’d it come from? Carmen hesitates. CARMEN LOPEZ Someone slid it under my door last night. No note. Nothing. Just that picture. GANG MEMBER - V.O. Somebody wanted her to see that photo. Somebody wanted her scared. Moe pulls a fresh cigarette from a crumpled pack and lights it. He exhales, watching the smoke curl toward the ceiling. MOE You got somewhere safe to stay? CARMEN LOPEZ Nowhere that matters. They already found me once. Moe nods, rubbing his temple. A case like this had bad news written all over it. MOE Alright. First thing’s first—we see what Enrique was really into. That means a trip to La Estrella. FADE TO: 3 EXT. LA ESTRELLA DINER – NIGHT                                                                  3 A neon cactus blinks lazily above the entrance. The place is nearly empty, just a couple of late-night stragglers and a sleepy-looking waitress wiping down the counter. Moe and Carmen step inside, the scent of fried food and stale coffee thick in the air. MOE Stay close. They approach the counter. The waitress, LUPE, looks them up and down. LUPE Coffee or trouble? MOE It's a little of both. He slides the Polaroid onto the counter. Lupe’s face changes instantly. She picks it up with shaking fingers. LUPE Dios mío… MOE Talk to me, Lupe. LUPE Enrique… he was scared, Señor Juarez. Last time I saw him, he said he had proof. Something big. He said they’d kill him if they found out. MOE Proof of what? Lupe glances toward the kitchen, lowering her voice. LUPE The cops, the ones running the drug racket through East L.A. Enrique said he had names, dates, everything. Carmen gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. Moe just sighs, rubbing his eyes. GANG MEMBER - V.O. Dirty cops. I should’ve known. Nothing stinks worse than bad bacon. Before Lupe can say another word, the bell above the diner door JINGLES. Moe tenses. A man in a dark suit and fedora steps inside. Behind him, two more men, all stone-faced, all carrying under their coats. GANG MEMBER (V.O.) Yeah. Moe knew that look. Trouble had just walked through the door. FADE TO BLACK. FADE IN: 4 INT. LA ESTRELLA DINER – NIGHT                                                                  4 The neon glow from the cactus sign outside casts eerie shadows on the walls. The man in the dark suit steps forward, his hand hovering near his coat. Moe calmly reaches for his cigarette, exhaling a slow plume of smoke. MOE Gentlemen, you look lost. Coffee’s hot if you’re interested. The lead thug smirks, shaking his head. THUG #1 Funny guy. You got somethin’ that don’t belong to you. MOE That right? ‘Cause last I checked, I just got here. THUG #1 You got a picture, don’t you? One that’s got people nervous. Carmen grips Moe’s arm, fear creeping into her eyes. Lupe slowly inches toward the kitchen, trying to stay unnoticed. Moe, ever calm, taps ash from his cigarette. MOE People get nervous over the smallest things. Like murder. Dirty cops. Conspiracies. THUG #1 You should walk away, detective. Take the girl, take a vacation. MOE And if I don’t? Thug #1 nods. Thug #2 pulls a pistol from his coat—but before he can raise it, Moe lunges forward, smashing his coffee cup into the thug’s face. The diner erupts into chaos. Gunfire explodes. Lupe screams and dives behind the counter. Carmen ducks as Moe tackles the lead thug, driving him into a table. Plates shatter, chairs topple. GANG MEMBER - V.O. I’d been in plenty of brawls before, but this one had stakes. Real ones. Carmen’s life. Moe's life. And whatever Enrique died for. The third thug raises his gun—only to catch a frying pan to the face from Lupe. He drops hard, out cold. Moe smirks. MOE Remind me to tip you better, Lupe. Lupe huffs, still gripping the pan. LUPE I don’t need your tips. Just don’t get blood on my floor. Moe grabs Carmen’s hand, yanking her toward the back exit. MOE Time to go! 5 EXT. ALLEY BEHIND LA ESTRELLA – NIGHT                                                     5 They burst through the back door, Carmen breathing heavily. CARMEN Where now?! MOE We disappear. Moe drags her toward his Chevy. Tires SCREECH in the distance. The black sedan from earlier is rounding the corner, coming straight for them. GANG MEMBER - V.O. I had two options: run or fight. And I was getting real tired of running. Moe yanks open the passenger door, shoving Carmen inside before pulling his revolver. As the sedan barrels toward them, he fires. BANG! BANG! The windshield splinters. The car swerves, CRASHING into a dumpster. MOE Time to go. He jumps into the driver’s seat, slamming his foot on the gas. The Chevy roars to life, tearing down the alley as the sedan’s doors fly open behind them. More goons spill out, guns flashing in the night. 6 INT. MOE’S CHEVY - SPEEDING – NIGHT                                                       6 Carmen grips the dashboard, eyes wide. CARMEN You could’ve just given them the photo! MOE And end up in a ditch like your brother? No thanks. CARMEN What now?! GANG MEMBER - V.O. Now? Now we go straight to hell and hope we come out breathing. Moe yanks the wheel hard, taking a sharp turn onto an empty street. FADE TO BLACK. FADE IN: 7 INT. MOE’S CHEVY - SPEEDING – NIGHT                                                       7 Moe grips the wheel tight, eyes flicking between the rearview mirror and the road ahead. The black sedan is still on their tail, tires screeching as it makes the same sharp turn Moe just took. MOE Hang on! He slams the brakes and yanks the wheel to the side. The Chevy spins in a tight 180 degree turn, now facing the sedan head-on. Moe pulls his revolver and FIRES— BANG! BANG! One bullet punches through the driver’s side windshield. The sedan veers wildly and CRASHES into a row of trash cans. Smoke billows from the hood. GANG MEMBER - V.O. That bought us a few seconds. Maybe less. Moe punches the gas, speeding off down a side street. CARMEN You’re crazy! MOE I get that a lot. 8 EXT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE – NIGHT                                                        8 Moe’s Chevy screeches to a stop outside a crumbling warehouse on the outskirts of town. The place is dark, forgotten, and exactly what they need right now. MOE Out. Now. Carmen hesitates, but Moe’s urgency forces her to move. They slip through a rusted door into the shadows of the warehouse. 9 INT ABANDONED WAREHOUSE – NIGHT                                                        9 Dust floats through shafts of moonlight. The place smells like oil and regret. Moe moves quickly, guiding Carmen toward a metal staircase leading to an office above the floor. CARMEN What are we doing here? MOE Buying time. Before they reach the stairs, a CLICK echoes through the darkness. A gun being cocked. VOICE (O.S.) That’s far enough, Juarez. Moe freezes, his hand instinctively moving toward his piece. MOE That you, Captain Ortega? From the shadows, CAPTAIN ORTEGA steps forward, flanked by two uniformed cops. The silver badge on his chest gleams under the dim light, but the revolver in his hand gleams even more. ORTEGA Didn’t I tell you to leave this alone? MOE Yeah, but you know me. Bad listener. ORTEGA I don’t have time for this. Hand over the photo. This site is designed and maintained by: Robert Nerbovig