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Faulk ‘N Schette: Buddy Cops – Episode 207

Posted in erbooker by erbooker on 11/17/2011

They’re cops. They’re buddies. They’re buddy cops. This is their story.

Episode 207 – Our Unsung Villains

(Det. Harry Schette is enjoying his morning coffee when Max comes downstairs with a legal pad and sits at the kitchen table…)

Schette:  Whatcha got there, bud?

Max:  I have to write a paper for school on my hero.

Schette:  (straightening his tie, smiling bashfully)  Aww.

Max:  Batman!

Schette:  (face sinks)  Aw.


(Det. Ricky Faulk laughs as Harry is driving them to work and relating that morning’s exchange with his son…)

Faulk:  C’mon Harry, he’s a kid. I’m sure you’re his hero, too.

Schette:  Nope, just Batman. I guess it’s better than Green Lantern.

Faulk:  I was more of an X-Men kid.

Schette:  With the crippled bald guy? What the–

(The detectives pull up to Central Division as Chief Armando Galarraga is being taken away in handcuffs. MI-5 Agent Gwinnifer Faulkland looks on…)

Schette:  El jefe!

Chief:  Faulk and Schette, I didn’t do this! Whatever they tell you, you know I’m innocent!

Faulk:  Agent Faulkland, what’s all this about?

Faulkland:  Chief Galarraga has been charged with the murder of Sheriff Cyrus Costella. Sheriff Podunk and his men got to the bottom of it while you two were busy losing the Mayor’s mistress and an escaped murderer.

Schette:  We didn’t lose them. We misplaced them.

Faulkland:  I will be taking over Chief Galarraga’s duties while he is being arraigned.

Schette:  Hey, the Chief might be Mexican; but he’s no murderer!

Faulkland:  (frowns)  That odd qualification aside, the facts check out. There were prints on the scene and the murder weapon was found in Chief Galarraga’s home.

Schette:  Well, shit. Sounds open and shut to me.

Faulk:  If you’ll excuse us Agent Faulkland, we have a meeting to attend to in Little Moscow.

Schette:  I’ll get you one of those Russian dolls, Gwinny.

Faulkland:  Please don’t call me Gwinny.


(In the back offices of Rublov Tire Supply…)

Faulk:  You framed our Chief, Andrei?

Rublov:  (grinning)  I know of no such–

Schette:   Oh cut the crap, Rublov. We all know you had the Sheriff killed. You said so yourself.

Rublov:  I said I had him ‘taken care of’. I did not say ‘killed’.

Schette:  (squinting angrily)  You and your semantics.

Faulk:  You lied to us. And now you’ve lied to the police and put an innocent man behind bars.

Rublov:  (rising up from behind his desk)  No! You lie to me! You tell me nothing of the British running the show at your office now.

Schette:  (nervous laughter)  British? What British? What’s a British? Never even heard of such a thing. You hear this, Ricky? British?

Faulk:  (shaking his head, blank stare)  I don’t. I…don’t.

Rublov:  Now it is time for you to cut the craps. The MI-5 is investigating my organization. This is serious development.

Schette:  To be fair, it’s not like they’re MI-6 or anything.

Rublov:  You lied to me and for that you need to be punished.

Schette:  Kinky.

Faulk:  But framing an innocent man, Andrei. That’s just…evil.

Rublov:  That is because I am the villain. Without villains, no one would need heroes.

Schette:  (narrowing his eyes, muttering)  I’m a hero.

Rublov:  What was that?

Schette:  I’m a hero!

Rublov:  Det. Schette, must I remind you that you work for me.

Schette:  (races out of the office)  Batman!

(Ricky is left alone with Rublov glaring at him…)

Faulk:  Hehe. I’ll just be going now.  (shuffles out)

(Andrei Rublov sits down at his desk and dials a seventeen-digit number…)

Rublov:  Sir. We may have problem.


(Ricky races to Harry’s car and jumps in as he’s peeling out…)

Faulk:  Harry. What’s gotten into you?

Schette:  I’m sick of being a crappy cop, Rick. I’m sick of taking deals and pocketing bribes and skirting the law. We are the law. And it’s time we start acting like it.

Faulk:  You just want your son to write that report about you.

Schette:  I mean Batman? Seriously?


(At Sheriff’s Department headquarters in Monterey Park, Harry and Ricky are in new Sheriff Enos Podunk’s office…)

Podunk:  (chewing on wheat)  I knew y’all was up to no good.

Faulk:  No. You don’t understand, Sheriff. We’re working with the Russian Mob in order to build a case against them.

Podunk:  So you are working with the Russian Mob.

Faulk:  Yes. But also against them with MI-5.

Podunk:  I just don’t see what I’m not gettin’ here.

Schette:  Yeah, neither do I. Who do we work for?

Faulk:  Harry, you’re the one that drove us here.

Schette:  Right. Sheriff, you’ve got the wrong guy. Chief Galarraga didn’t kill Sheriff Costella. He would have had no reason to.

Podunk:  Sure he did. He wanted the Sheriff’s job. You know how the Mexicans are always tryin’ to steal our jobs.

Faulk:  Wow. A racist cracker Sheriff. How original.

Schette:  Aha! I knew people still said ‘cracker’.

Podunk:  If y’all will excuse me, the Deputy and I have some crucial Sheriff’s Department business to attend to.

Faulk:  You mean that basset hound?

(Deputy Sheriff Roscoe lifts his head from his dog bed in the corner of the office…)

Roscoe:  Ruff!

Faulk:  Don’t you wanna help us take down the Russians? Avenge your boss’ murder?

Podunk:  As far as I reckon, that murder’s already been properly avenged.

Faulk:  C’mon, Harry. Looks like we’re on our own.

Schette:  K. But before we leave, I just have one last question. Can I pet your Deputy?

Podunk:  Git!

(The detectives leave and Enos picks up his phone and dials…)

Rublov:  Yes?

Podunk:  I reckon we might have a problem.


(Back at Central Division in Chief Galarraga’s office, now being used by Agent Faulkland…)

Schette:  Gwinny, you’ve just gotta let Armando go!

Faulkland:  What did I say about ‘Gwinny’?

Schette:  He didn’t kill the Sheriff. It was Rublov and the Russians.

Faulkland:  Do you have proof?

Schette:  Well, not technically.

Faulkland:  I’m afraid the evidence points in Mr. Galarraga’s direction. Look, I know you both feel loyalty toward your old boss; but the fact is he was a deeply troubled man. He’s been leading a flawed investigation of the Borscht Crime Syndicate and it’s one of the reasons the MI-5 was sent here to take control of the situation.

Faulk:  We believe Rublov may have the Sheriff’s Department in his pocket as well; which may be why the evidence points away from the Syndicate.

Faulkland:  I have nothing more to discuss with you two on the matter.

Schette:  Yeah, but.


Schette:  …

Faulkland:  But what?

Schette:  I was hoping you’d interrupt me after the ‘but’. I got nothin’.


(Harry and Ricky are on the roof of the parking garage behind Central Division, watching the sun set over the Pacific…)

Schette:  If the British aren’t gonna release Armando, we’ll just have to do it ourselves. We’re gonna need him if we’re gonna take down the Russians on our own.

Faulk:  What? We’re gonna break him outta prison?

Schette:  (shrugs)  I’ve seen people do that.

Faulk:  Where have you seen people do that?

Schette:  Movies and stuff.

(Ricky’s phone rings and he answers…)

Faulk:  Hey babe, what’s up. How was the doctor’s? Our baby still–…what?

Schette:  Uh oh, miscarriage. Tough break, buddy.

(Ricky’s face goes pale and he hands the phone to Harry…)

Faulk:  It’s your wife.

Schette:  What? No no, Ricky. Bernadette is your wife. Mine’s the white one.

Mary:  Harry!

(Harry hears his wife’s voice shouting and grabs the phone…)

Schette:  Mary, what are you doing? Are you consoling Bernie after her miscarriage? … What?

(Harry’s eyes narrow as a new voice comes over the receiver…)

Schette:  Rublov, what are you doing with our wives? … You’re what? You’re holding their hot dogs?  (hand over receiver, to Ricky)  Good news, no miscarriage. But are pregnant women supposed to have hot dogs? All that dog meat can’t be good for–

Faulk:  He’s saying ‘hostage’.

Schette:  (eyes narrow even further, opens them back up a little so he can still see)  Well, Rublov. Looks like this just got personal. Because you’re holding our wives hostage. Also, don’t let Bernadette eat hot dogs. Bye!

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