Wrong Cops Page #3

- Oh, really?

- You really smell like marijuana.

- I do?

Oh, uh, well, uh,

we seized a big shipment

this morning,

so I've been handling

big bags of weed all day.

- I know you're an office cop,

Daddy.

Forget it.

Can we just keep watching

our movie?

- Okay.

Sorry. I'll leave you alone.

Oh, this looks great.

- What are you doing with

a shovel, darling?

- Oh, this? I'm just-

It's nothing. I'll, uh...

I'll tell you later,

but it's not a big deal.

So, uh, yeah,

keep watching your movie.

I'll stop bothering you guys,

all right?

Hey! Sir?

Dont leave me here

without music!

Please!

- Holy f***ing sh*t.

- Hey, baby, did you manage

to take care

of my parking tickets like I asked?

- Well, I haven't, uh-

I haven't tried,

to be honest with you.

- Well, that's not very nice.

'Cause when I asked you,

you said you would take care

of them.

I was counting on you.

I really was.

- Well, I have thought about it,

and I think you deserve those tickets,

Michael.

- Screw you!

Don't call me Michael.

- Hang on.

How f***ing hard is it

to park in the right place?

I think you do it on purpose!

Why are you parking

in the wrong f***ing place

all the time?

- You are such an a**hole.

- Oh, my God.

I love this song.

You know it?

- I don't give a f***

about your song, okay?

Don't ever call me again.

I'm out of here.

- That is up to me, buddy.

I will call you

if I f***ing feel like calling you!

Yeah?

- Duke, where are you?

I need to see you immediately.

- Sunshine.

What do you want?

Don't tell me

you smoked it all already.

- No.

No, not at all.

But I have changed my mind.

- What are you talking about?

Changed your mind about what?

- I just found a bag of cash

buried in my backyard.

There's enough money in here

to buy weed for the next year,

maybe even two years.

Come on, man.

You expect me to believe

your bullshit?

Why don't you just say

you didn't have the balls

to finish the guy?

- No, no, no. I'm serious.

Im not kidding.

$13,000 in some old, crappy bag.

I think it was the life savings

of the guy who lived here before me.

- Wow.

F***!

- I know.

So I can pay you back

what I owe you,

and I no longer

have to kill this guy.

All I have to do is give him

back to you.

- Yeah, okay.

Where is the guy right now?

- Still in my car.

- All right, all right.

Bring him over.

I'm at the Flamingo Hotel, room 20.

I'm on my way.

- F***.

God damn it.

F***!

- Excuse me.

Do you mind if we sit with you?

- Are you talking to me?

- Yeah.

- Can we sit with you, please?

- Not unless you change

those haircuts.

- Well, I don't think

you're in the best position

to be talking about haircuts,

mister.

- Yeah, so can we sit or not?

- No.

I don't want to smell the stench

of that cheap cologne you got on.

- Cheap?

We're both wearing Ralph Lauren,

so...

- Yeah, well,

I never heard of the sh*t.

- Well,

it's 60 bucks a bottle,

so maybe you should have.

Come on.

Let's go sit over there.

- Yeah.

- Enjoy your meal.

- How are you today?

- I just woke up

20 minutes ago, barely.

So I'm a little out of it.

- Take a look at this.

That should wake you up.

- This is for fags.

Why do you have it?

- Open it. I'm telling you.

- Oh, no.

You like?

- F***...

Yuck. No.

- Ugh! God.

Get that away from me

before I throw up.

- I'm gonna photocopy it

and post it all over the place

for everyone to enjoy.

- You know that idiot

just found a bag of cash

digging a hole in his backyard?

- Are you kidding?

- No.

That d*ckhead found $13,000.

- F*** me.

- Can you imagine?

I mean, you could get

your nose done for a third time

with that money.

- F***, yeah.

- You see?

You see?

Only losers

have that kind of luck.

If I dig a hole in my backyard,

the best I can hope for is a potato.

But that f***ing moron

finds $13,000.

Only losers have that kind of luck.

- True.

- Hello?

- Hello.

Is this Mr. Vincent Rough?

- Who's asking?

- My name is Jack..

I just saw your ad

in the April issue of

Synthesizers magazine.

- Yeah.

- Is the drum machine still for

sale?

- Well, it depends.

What kind of music do you do?

- Well, its hard to describe.

Let's say I'm especially influenced

by '60s music,

but I like to mix it up

with more modern stuff.

- Okay, I get it.

You know what?

Go f*** yourself.

You don't deserve my drum machine.

- Who was that?

Some kind of d*ckhead.

- How much longer

you gonna make me wait, man?

Come on.

Play me that song.

- So what you have to know

is that this is not

the final mix, right?

I'm still working on the structure,

but it will give you a good idea

of what it is.

- Don't piss around

with your technical crap.

Just play it.

- You're the first to hear this.

- Okay. Okay.

Okay, okay. You can stop.

I get it.

- Okay.

So, again, I'm still working on it,

but what do you say?

- You want me to be honest?

- Totally, of course.

I mean, it's just the two of us.

- That song is sh*t in a can.

- What?

- I thought it was just awful.

- I disagree.

This song is a huge hit.

- A hit?

No way, Rough. Trust me.

I know this business.

That song sucks.

Not even a tampon ad

would want to use that song.

- You have ads for tampons

that are very good.

- I think you should just throw

that song in the trash

and start again from scratch.

I mean,

that's my friendly advice.

- Okay, Duke,

I appreciate your honesty,

but I'm still gonna wait

for a second opinion, okay?

- You want a second opinion?

- Yeah.

But from someone else.

Not a second opinion from you.

- I understand. Don't move.

- Where you going?

- I'll be right back.

Hey!

Wake up!

I need you for five minutes.

Come on. Get up.

Come on.

- Whoa.

- There you go.

- What is this?

What's happening?

- Just a guy from my neighborhood.

I'll explain later.

But he can tell you whether your song

is worth anything or not.

- Give it up.

Look at your guy.

He's a wreck.

What's the point?

- Do you want a second opinion

or not?

Okay...

Okay.

- Hello?

What?

Hold on!

No.

Who?

Bob?

Bob!

No, no.

I didn't forget.

I'm just around the corner.

Two minutes.

- Sir? Sir?

Hey. Hey!

What are you doing?

- I have to run!

Client emergency!

- No way.

You can't just leave that guy

at my place!

- Don't worry!

I'll be back to get him later.

He's easy. He won't move.

I won't be long!

- Sh*t!

- What's the matter, baby?

Why you screaming?

- That was nothing.

I was talking to a colleague.

- You have a minute?

We could f***-- a quickie.

- Not now.

I'm working on something.

- That shitty song

you've been listening to

for the last four days?

Is that what you're doing?

You don't know anything

about music.

That's a huge hit.

Ah!

Sir.

Sir!

Wake up. Wake up.

What do you want?

- Your brown cock, stupid.

- I told you I'm busy.

What's the matter with you?

Go home!

- I'm bored at home.

My man is in there

with his moronic friends

watching the hockey on TV.

It's boring!

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes