Haggard, yet heroically handsome ex-NYC cop-turned-private investigator, Tracey Hyde, stands before a nervous, young Hispanic-looking man who is sat down, chewing a tooth pick. Dressed in an off-white suit, Hyde leans into the ‘suspect’, placing his sock-less Bally shoe-clad foot onto his chair next to the suspect’s leg.
So, Santos, you thought it was OK to er…..to er… sell SHIT to a fucking baby did you? HUH? You ..erm…you thought you’d sell shit to a er, to a fuckin toddler. Is…..is that what you fucking thought you’d get away with, you fucking greaser?
Look Tracey man, it’s just frikin’ weed man. It’s just fuckin weed puto. Come on man. She’s fuckin’ 18 man.
Looking more and more as though he is going to lose control, Hyde leans further into Santos’ personal space. His eyes widen and his gaze seems increasingly crazed.
(In an angry monotone) She was fuckin well at college man. Workin’ two fuckin jobs, you fucking slime ball.
Hyde pulls out his oversized revolver and pushes it forcefully into Santos’ open mouth.
HYDE (calmly, yet in an unhinged manner)
Give me….. one…..fucking……reason why I shouldn’t empty this jimmy into your fucking…..mouth, take it back out, load it again, empty it and then stamp on your motherfucking brain you CUNT. Then, mop it the fuck up into a fucking 7-11 fucking bag, send it to your fucking moms, ask her to fucking spit in it, send it back to me so I can empty another fucking chamber into your FUCKING BRAIN.
Adi Singh is an accomplished criminal psychologist-turned-private-investigator. Born in the Punjab, India, he is of the Sikh faith. He studied in the UK and went on to publish numerous successful papers surrounding criminal psychology. A portly, cheery character, Adi is the ‘good cop’ of the duo. A reasonable individual, Adi always sees the good in people and the bigger picture. He wears a very large, bright yellow turban.
Commanding and speaking calmly, stood the other side of the suspect.
Tracey, you have done well to get us so far. And now you must focus on our end goal. We don’t need to harm this man. His fate rests with the law now.
Adi, if I don’t cap this piece of shit NOW. I’m gonna pop this motherfucker. If I don’t fuckin do it, this punks only gonna ruin another little baby’s life.
Tracey flips his head back around to Santos.
TRACEY HYDE (intensely)
So why the fuck do you fucking live and a baby dies? A fucking baby in a pram, wearing fucking ET pyjamas, saying dadda, fucking dadda, i love life dadda. Im gonna be a fuckin doctor one day dadda. Oh, no I’m not, some punk made me take fucking drugs for breakfast.
Adi touches the pistol and guides it out of the suspect’s mouth. Santos, gasps for air and collects himself.
SANTOS (in an English accent)
In all honesty, I haven’t really done anything wrong. Firstly, she is 18 and frankly, she’s actually fine. She texted me earlier. She asked a friend of hers to ask me if I could score a small bag on campus. I said no and I don’t deal, but she kept asking. She’s really fit, so I asked around and I managed to get a small bag. She is fine you know. We are in the same class, a student too you know.
Tracey, you know, really, he’s not really done much wrong and you probably, in this instance, should not shoot him in the mouth, reload and shoot him in the mouth and then stamp on his brains. Then, scoop them up, send them to his mother so that she can spit on them to only send them back to you to shoot again. Not this time Tracey.