Faulk ‘N Schette: Buddy Cops – Episode 116
They’re cops. They’re buddies. They’re buddy cops. This is their story.
Episode 116 – Back From The Dead
(Det. Harry Schette is milling about the 47th Precinct aimlessly when he comes upon the desk of Det. Clint Kowalski..)
Schette: Whatcha investigatin’?
Kowalski: This runway model got murdered. So I gotta go down to the Fashion District and interview a buncha lingerie models.
Chief: Schette! What the hell are you doing here?
Schette: (spins) Chief! I, uh, forgot my shades on my desk.
Chief: You don’t wear shades. You always borrow Faulk’s.
Schette: I can be cool too, ya know!
Chief: I thought I made it abundantly clear that you and your partner Faulk are suspended. You are not to set foot on the premises until the investigation into your Afghani drug warehouse demolition is completed.
Schette: But Chief, I miss detectiving! Kowalski’s gonna go interview a buncha naked babes and everybody’s talkin’ about something awesome that Det. Bananas did.
Chief: I’m sorry Harry, but you have to leave.
Schette: Okay, but just tell me what that crazy monkey did. Did he kick, like, three guys in a row?
Chief: Let’s go, Harry.
Schette: Was it a roundhouse kick? Helicopter kick? Bicycle kick?
(Harry and Ricky are in Long Island meeting with drug kingpin Oliver Butler and his Herzegovinian partner, Yuri Brgochev..)
Butler: I wanna thank you both again for the Afghanistan operation. Business is booming.
Faulk: That job cost us our badges, Butler.
Schette: I could be questioning women in their underwear right now!
Brgochev: Why would you do such a thing?
Butler: I am sorry about that. But if we just keep our heads down until this investigation is over–
Schette: No, I can’t wait any longer. I miss the action, I miss the suspense, I miss the excitement!
Butler: Detective, it’s been a day.
Schette: I’ve got a plan to get us back in the department’s good graces. But it means sacrificing one of your own.
Brgochev: (eyes narrow) Yes. Who?
Schette: The Iceman.
Butler: But he’s my best assassin.
Faulk: Only assassin.
Brgochev: Is actually not great assassin.
Butler: Shut up, Yuri.
Schette: Mr. Butler, assassins come a dime a dozen. In the long run, isn’t it more valuable to have trusted police protection?
Butler: And what exactly do you want The Iceman to do?
Schette: Assassinate Chief Flies Red Tree.
Mother: Ice who? Hold on, dear. … Hon, it’s for you. Did we order ice?
(The Iceman angrily grabs the receiver from his mother and plops down on a heavily-doilied couch..)
Iceman: (lowering voice) This is The Iceman…Hello, Mr. Butler…No, that was my..a fellow assassin. A femme fatale…A job? I’m in. Who’s the target?…A police chief, eh? Sounds like a tough one. I’m gonna have to charge double…Wow, really? That easy, huh?…I’ll fax you the details. This phone may have been compromised.
(The Iceman hangs up and sets the phone down on a doilied endtable..)
Iceman: Mom, I have to go to work. Can you tape Ice Road Truckers for me?
Mother: Of course, dear. Have fun at the stock exchange.
Butler: (reading The Iceman’s fax) It’s all set. He’ll be on the roof of the parking garage across from the 47th Precinct at sunset.
Schette: Perfect. The Chief leaves for the day, The Iceman takes his shot and we swoop in and save his life. We’ll be lauded as heroes and returned to our posts with gallant fanfare.
Butler: Just sucks to be sacrificing one of my best men. He was a crack shot, ya know.
Brgochev: I call cousin. He assassin for us. He big game-hunter back in the Herzegovine.
Schette: What exactly is considered big game in Herzegovina?
Brgochev: Possum. And opossum.
Faulk: What if the Chief starts asking how we knew The Iceman would be there?
Schette: (shrugs) We were just doing some off-duty sleuthing.
Schette: He’s gonna be so relieved to be alive, he won’t ask any questions. He’ll just kiss us on our mouths and slap our badges back on.
Faulk: (frowning) Why would he kiss us on our mouths?
Schette: Just a dream I had.
(The Iceman is atop the parking garage across from the 47th and preparing for the job..)
Iceman: Alright Douglas, you can do this. Just be the gun. Just be the gun. Don’t think about the target and whether he’s a nice man and has a family and a baby dog and his favorite hobbies and what kind of music he’s into and whether he believes that we really landed on the Moon and if his favorite Cheers character is Carla and how many fingers he has and if he believes in God and his opinions on Vietnam. Just pull the trigger and get your money. (sighs) (weeps)
(Chief Red Tree is leaving for the day when Harry meets him at the bottom of the stairs and blocks his path..)
Schette: Hey Chief, how’s it goin’?
Chief: Schette, what are you doing here?
Schette: Nothin’. Definitely not stalling.
Chief: Haven’t we already been over this? You can’t be here.
Schette: (squinting across the street) Say, what is that up there?
Chief: I don’t see anything.
Schette: Oh my God! That man has a gun! Is that an assassin?!
Chief: What are you talking about?
Schette: (grabs Chief by the shoulders) Get down, Chief! He’s taking the shot!
Chief: Harry, stop fooling around. Have you gone mental?
(Harry awkwardly tackles the Chief to the concrete and lays on top of him, while a group of onlookers gathers..)
Schette: I’ll save you, Chief!
Chief: Get off me!
Schette: What heroism!
(On the roof of the parking garage across the street, Ricky sneaks up on The Iceman..)
Faulk: Are you crying?
Iceman: (wiping bleary-eyed face full of tears) What? No! Who are you?
Faulk: Det. Ricky Faulk. We’ve met. I was sent here to arrest you for attempting to assassinate Chief Red Tree. But I guess that’s out the window at this point.
Iceman: Wait a minute, I remember you. You’re one of Butler’s guys. Those dirty cops he sent me to kill. Mr. Butler set me up?
Faulk: ‘Fraid so.
Faulk: (lightbulb) But you know, there could be a way to get back at Mr. Butler that could be equally beneficial to both of us.
Iceman: Shoot him with my gun?
Iceman: A double-double cross.
Faulk: Yup. A quadruple cross.
Iceman: It’s so crazy, it just might work! (sniffles, single tear)
Faulk: Look, do you need a minute?
Iceman: (wiping away the tear) I’m fine!
(Across the street, Harry is still laying on the Chief..)
Schette: Hope that assassin doesn’t TAKE THE SHOT!
Chief: Are you getting aroused?
Schette: That’s my gun.
Chief: You handed in your gun and badge when I suspended you.
Schette: You smell nice, Chief.