Faulk ‘N Schette: Buddy Cops – Episode 304
They’re cops. They’re buddies. They’re buddy cops. This is their story.
Episode 304 – Fifty Shades Of Blue
Mort: His name is Nikos Garbanian, the youngest nephew and soldier of Papa Garbanian, head of the largest crime family in Little Armenia.
Schette: Yeah, but that’s no reason for him to lose his head. Ha!
Faulk: Harry, enough with the head jokes.
(Det.’s Faulk & Schette are standing over a table containing the decapitated head of an Armenian gangster in the basement morgue of the LAPD Central Division with mortician Mort Shipp…)
Faulk: Any idea who did this, Mort?
Mort: There’s no DNA on the head besides his own. This was a clean job. Probably a machete.
Schette: (gasps) Or a samurai sword! Samurais!
Mort: Probably not.
Max: Dad, can we leave now?
Faulk: Can’t believe you brought your ten-year-old son to a morgue to look at a decapitated head.
Schette: It’s Bring Your Kid To Work Day. Besides, you brought your ten-month-old!
(Isabel Faulk reaches from Ricky’s Baby Björn and squeezes Nikos’ nose…)
Faulk: She’s a baby. They don’t even make memories for a couple more years.
Mort: You fellas might wanna get those kids out of here before I start slicing this head open. Scalpel.
(A toddler waddles over to her father, handing him a scalpel…)
Toddler: Here you go, daddy.
Mort: Thanks, sweetie.
(Upstairs, Chief Chief is meeting with police commissioner and African-American dwarf Tyrell Davison…)
Commissioner Davison: (feet dangling off seat) We’ve gotta cut costs across the city, Chief. This division isn’t making any money.
Chief: I don’t even understand how a police division is supposed to produce profits.
Commissioner: Which is why we are where we are.
Chief: Well, that’s a problem. What can I do?
Commissioner: I’m a black dwarf police commissioner. I got enough problems!
(Mary Schette hustles into the Chief’s office…)
Chief: (rises) Mrs. Schette, what a pleasant surprise.
Mary: Where’s my husband?
Chief: I believe Faulk & Schette are working on a case right now. Can I help with anything?
Mary: Yes, I’d like to report a kidnapping.
Chief: My goodness, has something happened to Max?
Mary: His father took him.
(Isabel is chewing on a pair of handcuffs in her baby seat in the back of the Crown Vic with Max as Ricky drives and Harry struggles to stick a straw in a Capri-Sun…)
Schette: (pops the pouch and spills juice all over his lap) Goddammit! Capri-Sun, you dirty whore.
Max: Dad, swears.
Schette: Sorry, kiddo.
Faulk: Gotta say, after all the drama with Mary leaving you, I’m surprised she let you take Max for the day.
Schette: Hehe, yeah. About that.
(The Crown Vic screeches to a halt…)
(Chief Chief leads a distraught Mary Schette outside to a plain-clothes policewoman leaning against a squad car, smoking a cigarette. Commissioner Davison waddles after them…)
Commissioner: Chief, what kind of division are you running here? Detectives kidnapping their own kids?
Chief: Mary, I’m going to put you with Officer Lena Rodriguez. She’s a rookie cop, but she knows this city. She’ll find Max. And I’ll deal with Harry’s actions personally. You have my word.
Mary: I just want my son back.
Officer Rodriguez: (shakes Mary’s hand) I’ll find your son, Mrs. Schette. I know how your husband operates. We studied Det. Faulk & Schette’s cases in academy.
Mary: Wow, I never knew he was that good a detective.
(Det.’s Faulk & Schette and Max and Isabel are meeting with members of the Mexican street gang, the Golden Eagles…)
Paco: Why you bring your kids here, esé?
Schette: It’s Bring Your Kid To Work Day.
Paco: (points at Harry’s wet slacks) You piss yourself, Detective?
Schette: It’s Capri-Sun.
Paco: Oh, word. Those pouches are a bitch.
Faulk: We need to know everything on a guy named Blanco.
Paco: Blanco? Never heard of him.
(Paco’s boys laugh and he turns to high-five a couple…)
Schette: You don’t want us to get physical, Paco.
Paco: You gonna threaten me, esé? You holding a little boy’s hand. Your partner got a Baby Björn on.
Faulk: Listen, mister. This is a quality Björn. It’s a soft cotton mix. Very comfortable.
Paco: I was gonna say, that looks like the one my baby mama got. That baby hasn’t made a peep.
Faulk: Yeah, and the weight distribution is so good I sometimes forget I’m carrying her. Banged her head a couple times on the car door.
Paco: Hey, you gotta be careful with that, homes.
Faulk: (smiles, pets Isabel’s head while she snores) Nah, she’s a tough little broad.
Paco: (squeezes her cheeks, grins) Cute, too.
Schette: We’re getting off-topic!
Paco: Only Blanco I know runs the Salvadoreans. New group just up from El Salvador. Call themselves the Coyotes. Tough crew.
Schette: Salvadoreans, eh? What part of Mexico is that?
Paco: I just told you, esé. They ain’t Mexican. They Salvadorean.
Schette: (blank stare and a blink)
Paco: Different country.
Schette: So…South Mexico?
Faulk: I’ll Wikipedia it for him on the car computer. Thanks for your help, Paco.
Schette: (turning back to the car) You boys be good. Not too much gang-banging.
Paco: Ay, you want your kid, esé?
(Harry glances back at Max playing toss with a small Mexican girl and ponders for a moment…)
Faulk: (elbows Harry)
Schette: Uh, yes. Yes, I do.
(Mary Schette glances at Officer Rodriguez as she steers the squad car east in a button-top and jeans…)
Mary: So, are you a plain-clothes cop? Undercover?
Rodriguez: No, today’s actually my day off. Just came in to do some paperwork.
Mary: The job keeps you pretty busy, huh?
Mary: (nods, staring out the window) That was always Harry’s problem. Never enough time for me and Max. But if Ricky called, drop everything. Has to be tough on your boyfriend.
Rodriguez: Wouldn’t know. How long have you and Det. Schette been separated?
Mary: A couple weeks.
Rodriguez: It’s too bad. Det. Schette already has a pretty notorious reputation of erratic, reckless behavior. Without a stabilizing force like you in his life, he’s likely to go clean off the rails.
Schette: Are you gonna tell us where fucking Blanco is or what, you fucking scumbag!
(Harry is holding an older Hispanic man by one leg, dangling him off the roof a four-story building…)
Miguel: Please, sir. I don’t know anything!
(Harry turns back to Ricky who motions to Max, staring wide-eyed at his father. Isabel is still fast asleep in Ricky’s Baby Björn…)
Schette: (nods sagely) You’re right, Ricky. Max, get over here and hold Miguel’s leg. I’m gonna teach you how to be a cop.
(Max eagerly runs for the roof’s edge, but Ricky grabs the back of the kid’s shirt…)
Faulk: Harry, no.
Schette: (rolls eyes) Okay, fine. (pulls Miguel back up onto the roof and dusts him off) Sorry about that, Miguel. We’re just really desperate for information on this Blanco guy and you’re the only Salvadorean I know.
Miguel: I’m Venezuelan.
Schette: (claps hands) That’s it! I knew it was something like that. (claps Miguel’s back) You’re still my favorite grocer. Cheapest bananas in town.
(Miguel grumbles as he heads back downstairs to his grocery store. Harry drops to one knee in front of Max…)
Schette: Son, you’re eleven now.
Max: I’m ten, dad.
Schette: Irregardless. It’s well past time you take that first giant step into manhood.
Max: What do you mean, dad?
Schette: You’re gonna learn how to fire a gun.
Mary: I just hope Harry’s being responsible.
Mary: (glances at Elena) You’re right. Step on it.
Radio: (crackles) Shots fired.
Mary: (sighs) Harry…
(Harry Schette’s glock is smoking as he turns back to Max in the abandoned construction site where he witnessed an Armenian gangster’s execution weeks prior. Ricky is feeding Isabel her bottle on the hood of their car…)
Schette: See? It’s just that easy.
Max: But you didn’t hit any of the bottles.
(Max points at five beer bottles lined up on a concrete slab thirty yards away, as Ricky chuckles…)
Schette: Yeah, well…I wasn’t trying to hit the bottles. It’s tougher to not hit the bottle, Max. It’s about discipline and…controlled breathing and…listen, just take the gun and let ‘er rip.
Faulk: I don’t think this is a great idea, Harry.
(Max cocks the pistol and Harry turns to his partner…)
Schette: C’mon, Ricky. What’s the worst that could happen?
(Officer Rodriguez and Mary Schette race down into the sunken construction site — Elena with her gun drawn — and Max spins with Harry’s pistol, startled and fires…)
Schette: Nooooooo! Ow, fuck!
(Harry is laying on the ground clutching his stomach after taking Max’s bullet. Max, Mary, Ricky and Elena crowd around him…)
Schette: Ohh, my tummy.
Max: Dad, I’m sorry I shot you. I thought she was a bad guy.
Schette: (scoffs) A girl bad guy? Oh, you kids and your imaginations.
Mary: Harry, are you alright?
Schette: Oh, it’s just my guts. Second time I’ve been shot this season. Now I’m back tied up with Ricky.
Rodriguez: (frowns) ‘Season’?
Schette: Year. This year.
(Isabel reaches down from Ricky’s Baby Björn and honks Harry’s nose…)
(From an alley a block away, an Hispanic woman in dark shades lowers her binoculars and turns to her henchman…)
Blanco: These are the men looking for me?
Hector: Si, Miss Blanco.
Blanco: (smirks) I don’t think we have anything to worry about.
Email this Salvadorean henchman at firstname.lastname@example.org