Hard Squad “Makin’ the case!”

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INT. POLICE STATION – CAPTAIN’S OFFICE – DAY
Like a barrel of TNT, Police Captain DIRK MANSON simmers behind his desk.
Standing before him like the King of Trees, oozing sap of sex and danger, is Police Detective JOHN O’MALLEY.

DIRK MANSON
I’m not going to beat around the
bush, O’Malley, you’re off the case.

JOHN O’MALLEY
But Cap’n, that’s a load of bloody–

DIRK MANSON
If you even go near this case
you’re back as a resource officer
in some suburban high school, you
hear me? Comprende?

JOHN O’MALLEY
That’s the biggest soddin’ load of
bloody fanny hair I’ve ever heard.

DIRK MANSON
Watch it, Detective.

JOHN O’MALLEY
This whole thing stinks, it’s rotten,
it’s a fresh turd stuck inside
a coil of steamin’ dung
buried in a pile of manure
shoved up inside your wife.
What I want to know, is
how many more bleedin’ corpses are
we gonna have to find in their
curlers and jammies face down in their
goddamn bloody bacon and eggs?
How many more bodies before you,
and the chief, and the mayor, and
whoever else has to, wises up?!

DIRK MANSON
O’Malley, you are way outta–

JOHN O’MALLEY
Ahoy, ahoy. There’s a bleedin’ sick bugger
out there murderin’ people–a way bad egg who’s
not gonna stop, understand? Not
a maniac like this. He’s gotta be
stopped, y’hear? We’ve gotta stop
him, and if you won’t, I bloody well will!

DIRK MANSON
Are you through?

JOHN O’MALLEY
Not quite.

He turns a looses a large, loud FART.

JOHN O’MALLEY
(continuing)
Now I’m done.

He exits the office slamming the door behind him.

DIRK MANSON
O’Malley!
(gags, chokes)
Sweet lord–
(gags)
O’MALLEY!!!

His choking face is a deep crimson.

INT. SQUAD ROOM

O’Malley storms into the squad room and flips his desk. Sitting at the desk next to it is the living embodiment of a leather hand-grenade, Police Detective LAURA DAVIS.

LAURA DAVIS
Bad news?

JOHN O’MALLEY
We’re off the goddamn case.

LAURA DAVIS
Goddamnit!

She leaps to her feet, flipping her desk.

DIRK MANSON (from his office)
You’re paying for those desks, detectives!

LAURA DAVIS
How the hell do these goddamn bureaucratic barfbags
think we’re gonna catch this goddamn killworm?
With a goddamn want ad in the goddamn Gleaner?

JOHN O’MALLEY
Not on my watch, partner.
C’mon, grab your vest and gameface.

He stalks towards the door. Davis grabs her sleeveless jean jacket off the back of her chair, follows O’Malley.

LAURA DAVIS
Where the goddamn you thinking?

JOHN O’MALLEY
Time to pay a visit–

He pulls out his revolver, opens the cylinder, makes sure it’s loaded. Snaps the cylinder shut.

JOHN O’MALLEY
To Smuggler’s Cove.

Davis lets out a low whistle.
They stride out.

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