FADE IN: 

EXT. WAREHOUSE – NIGHT

CLARK, a clean-cut police officer, hunkers behind a car near a big warehouse, talking to somebody out of frame.

CLARK

Alright, we do this by the book. Secure the exits, nice and quiet. Keep the cartel from going anywhere. Wait until the SWAT team comes. Got it, Mad Dog?

Cut to reveal --

MAD DOG

A police-officer puppet made of felt, with a little moustache, who wouldn’t be out of place on Sesame Street.

(Note: all the profanities are clumsily bleeped out.)

MAD DOG

Oh, fuck this shit!

Mad Dog draws his gun, runs to the front door of the warehouse, kicks it open, and fires a few shots.

CLARK

Oh crap.

Clark follows Mad Dog in.

INT. WAREHOUSE HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS

Mad Dog guns down HENCHMAN #1 with a head shot.

HENCHMAN #2 (O.S.)

The shots came from over here!

Mad Dog tosses his gun, and pulls out a wicked-looking knife.

MAD DOG

Heh heh heh.

(singing)

Come out and play-ay.

He sneaks along quietly.

HENCHMAN #2 enters.

HENCHMAN #2

Oh, you little --

Henchman #2 aims his gun, but too late -- Mad Dog stabs him through the heart.

MAD DOG

Yeah. That’s right, bitch.

He creeps past the body, and pushes his way into --

INT. WAREHOUSE STORAGE ROOM – CONTINUOUS

A dark, spacious storage room.

Mad Dog takes a few steps in, peering into the dark, then --

CLICK

The lights switch on and we see THE BIG BOSS and his MINION in a big empty room with two exits.

The minion has a gun aimed at Mad Dog.

THE BIG BOSS

So you’re the one causing all this trouble for the cartel?

MAD DOG

Yeah? Fuck you.

THE BIG BOSS

My whole shipment has been delayed by one stupid little... felt-head?

MAD DOG

What?

Mad Dog begins to shake with rage.

MAD DOG

What -- did -- you -- call -- me?

He lets out a piercing SHRIEK!

Before anyone can react, he throws the knife at the minion.

It spears the minion through the eye; the minion drops down dead.

Mad Dog bounds over, snaps up the minion’s gun, and with another blood-curdling scream, pistol-whips the big boss to the ground.

CLOSE ON Mad Dog, straddling the big boss and hitting him over and over again with the gun.

Little spurts of blood spatter across Mad Dog.

Clark enters.

CLARK

What the --

Clark pulls Mad Dog off of the big boss.

CLARK

What are you doing, Mad Dog?

Clark looks around at the bodies.

CLARK

You did all of this?

Mad Dog bursts into tears.

Mad Dog puts the gun to his own temple.

CLARK

Oh my god.

MAD DOG

I’ll do it, man! I’LL FUCKING DO IT! I’LL FUCKING PULL THE GODDAMN --

Suddenly, THE SOUND OF APPROACHING FEET.

Lots and lots of them.

HENCHMAN #3

I think they’re in here!

Mad Dog aims the gun at Clark.

CLARK

Whoa. Mad Dog.

MAD DOG

Go.

CLARK

But the --

MAD DOG

GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!

Clark carefully backs out through the far door.

A few moments pass.

Then, the near door BUSTS OPEN with HENCHMEN.

Mad Dog gets a few shots in before HENCHMAN #3 shoots Mad Dog -- it’s not fatal, but Mad Dog drops the gun and falls to the ground.

The henchmen approach.

HENCHMAN #3

We gonna kill you reeeeal slooow.

Mad Dog opens his coat to reveal --

A BOMB.

The timer has mere seconds left.

MAD DOG

Game over, motherfu --

EXT. WAREHOUSE – CONTINUOUS

The warehouse EXPLODES! as Clark walks away from the building.

The explosion knocks him to the ground.

Bits of rubble and debris fall around him.

CLARK

Oh, god. Mad Dog. What have you --

He picks something out of the rubble --

One of Mad Dog’s little felt hands.

CLARK

No. NOOOOOOOO!!!

STILL FRAME

A puppet smashes a criminal’s head against the hood of a car.

VOICEOVER

We’ll return after these messages to: Puppet Po-Po!

SIRENS sound.

FADE OUT.

FADE IN: 

EXT. PARK – DAY

Clearly the hottest day of the year.

A LOUT stands near a bench and holds forth.

Several LISTENERS sit on the bench, silently suffering in the heat.

LOUT

You call this hot? This is nothing! Where I’m from, it gets this hot all the time!

A SMALL BOY carry a wiffle-bat approaches, and watches the lout.

LOUT

And do we complain about it? Hell, no! It’s just you locals that ca--

WHAM!

The small boy nails the lout in the crotch with the bat.

The man crumples.

TITLE CARD

Reads “Don’t be that guy.”

VOICEOVER

Don’t be that guy. This message brought do you by the Association for Not Being a Dick.

EXT. PARK – CONTINUOUS

The lout groans on the ground.

The small boy runs off.

FADE OUT.

FADE IN: 

OPENING TITLE

A gauzy camera pans across blinking network equipment as soft, ROMANTIC MUSIC plays.

ANNOUNCER

We now return to Harlequin IT Theatre’s presentation: “Unexpected Downtime”.

The title “Unexpected Downtime” appears over the footage, in an appropriately scrolly, romance-novel-y font.

INT. OFFICE – NIGHT

SHOSHANNA (20s), a bit too fancily-dressed and -coiffed for office work, sits at her elegant desk in her elegant office.

Her computer shows an error message.

SHOSHANNA

Dammit!

REYNALDO (20s) enters in the background, barely visible.

REYNALDO

Shoshanna, you said you’ve hit a routing connectivity error with an 802.11g WiFi card.

Shoshanna whips around to see --

REYNALDO

We get a better look at him now -- he’s basically Fabio in an white short-sleeved dress shirt and Dockers.

SHOSHANNA

Reynaldo! How dare you set foot in my office?

REYNALDO

It’s my job. And there’s no network-migration problem you can get into that I can’t fix.

SHOSHANNA

Oh, really? Well, when you ‘fixed’ Clarissa’s machine, you stripped her motherboard bare, paved her OS, and left her with a minimal distro of Ubuntu. I... can never trust you again, Reynaldo.

Reynaldo approaches, all puppy-dog sympathy.

REYNALDO

Please. Shoshanna. You don’t even have LAN access.

SHOSHANNA

Oh, fine! Just this once!

She steps aside, and Reynaldo hunkers down over the computer.

REYNALDO

Aha.

He whips off his shirt.

SHOSHANNA

What?! Why are you removing your shirt in my office?!

He turns his attention back to Shoshanna.

REYNALDO

I can’t help it, Shoshanna. Your machine, it... runs hotter than normal.

SHOSHANNA

Oh?

REYNALDO

I may have to manipulate your heat sink until things cool down.

SHOSHANNA

But... what’s wrong with it?

Reynaldo gets closer and closer to Shoshanna.

REYNALDO

Maybe your fans need to be oiled. Maybe there’s a loose plug that needs to be grabbed and firmly seated.

Now they’re mere inches apart.

REYNALDO

... or maybe your disk hasn’t been defragmented in a long, long time.

SHOSHANNA

Oh, damn you, Reynaldo! Damn your smoldering eyes and thorough technical expertise!

She kisses him, passionately.

As they continue kissing, the camera pans away to a blinking network router and blurs out of focus.

MR. CARLSON (O.S.)

WAIT ONE MINUTE!

MR. CARLSON

-- a mean old man in a fancy suit -- stands just outside the office doorway.

REYNALDO

Mr. Carlson!

SHOSHANNA

Daddy!

MR. CARLSON

If it isn’t Reynaldo, the bad-boy IT-maintenance engineer. This is not your lucky day, son.

Mr. Carlson brandishes a sheet of paper clearly labeled ‘corporate reassignment’.

MR. CARLSON

I’ve got you reassigned... to IT support at the Bangalore remote office. Effective immediately.

REYNALDO

Mr. Carlson, of all the underhanded --

MR. CARLSON

Get your shirt and go, son.

Reynaldo grabs his shirt and exits.

SHOSHANNA

But, daddy!

MR. CARLSON

It’s for your own good, princess.

SHOSHANNA

You! You just outsourced the only man I ever loved!

Shoshanna SLAMS the door on Mr. Carlson.

She BURSTS INTO TEARS.

CLOSING TITLE

Same as before -- gauzy camera, network equipment, ROMANTIC MUSIC.

ANNOUNCER

Harlequin IT Theatre’s presentation of: “Unexpected Downtime” will return after these messages.

FADE OUT.

FADE IN: 

EXT. WAREHOUSE DOOR – DAY

ROD (a cop out of an 80s action movie) runs up to the open front door of a warehouse, gun drawn, intense.

He radios in.

ROD

I’m at the warehouse.

RADIO (V.O.)

Goddammit, Sergeant, wait for backup!

ROD

There’s no time! As soon as Jake gets here, we’re going in alone.

JAKE (O.S.)

Already here, partner. How are we doing this?

ROD

We’re going straight through the front do--

Rod turns to see --

JAKE, another cop, though a bit less fit and fashionable.

Jake wears a shiny, colorful PARTY HAT.

Rod stops short.

JAKE

It’s my birthday.

ROD

What?

JAKE

Ergo, I get to wear my special party hat.

Jake enters the warehouse, gun drawn.

Rod follows.

INT. WAREHOUSE HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS

Rod and Jake advance down a hall towards a doorway.

JAKE

Did you even remember it’s my birthday?

ROD

Okay, I’ll go across the main floor. You cover me.

JAKE

No, I get to make the approach --

ROD

Jake --

JAKE

Look, when it’s your special day, you can do what you want. Nobody’s even sung me “Happy Birthday” today!

ROD

(singing)

Happy birth-

JAKE

Oh, it’s not the same when you’re forced to, Rod.

Jake darts out through the doorway.

Rod scampers into place and covers him.

INT. WAREHOUSE DOORWAY – LATER

Jake approaches a doorway.

We can hear a voice inside --

CRIME BOSS (O.S.)

And the mayor has only five minutes to deliver the ransom. After that? You all die!

He continues to AD LIB in the background as Rod catches up.

They converse quietly.

JAKE

I’m serious. No singing. No party.

ROD

Jake --

JAKE

No presents.

ROD

Okay, I’ll get you something.

JAKE

Would have killed you to knit me a glock cozy?

ROD

Let’s just bust in there and catch the bad guys.

JAKE

Oh. Oh, wait. I get it.

(stage whisper)

It’s a surprise party, isn’t it?

ROD

What?

JAKE

Okay, criminals! Here I come!

CRIME BOSS (O.S.)

What the --

Jake kicks down the door, revealing --

INT. HOSTAGE ROOM – CONTINUOUS

A bunch of LOWLIFES, including the CRIME BOSS, stand guard over a few bound and gagged HOSTAGES.

Jake and Rod burst in, guns drawn.

ROD

EVERYBODY FREEZE!

JAKE

Aw.

One LOWLIFE WITH A PARTY HAT pokes his head up.

LOWLIFE WITH A PARTY HAT

I can go, right?

ROD

What?

Jake nods.

The lowlife with a party hat exits through a side door.

The crime boss grudgingly starts singing “Happy Birthday.”

FADE OUT.

Over black, the singing continues.

The other lowlifes grudgingly start singing along.

JAKE (V. O.)

Aw, thanks, guys! Let’s go to jail!

FADE IN: 

INT. OFFICE – DAY

MR. TURPLEE (middle-aged, office casual) sits at a desk across from JOHN (20s, cheap business suit).

Mr. Turplee reads over a résumé.

John waits.

MR. TURPLEE

Your 3.8 GPA was across the board?

JOHN

Just in my major.

Mr. Turplee yawns, pulls another printout off the desk.

MR. TURPLEE

Adams Mutual was mostly turnkey systems?

JOHN

Legacy databases. I did contract maintenance work.

More reading.

MR. TURPLEE

Huh. “Hobbies include martial arts.”

JOHN

Yes.

MR. TURPLEE

So, you can, like, kick through a window?

JOHN

Something like that.

More reading.

MR. TURPLEE

Ever killed a man?

John laughs.

Mr. Turplee doesn’t.

JOHN

No.

MR. TURPLEE

Mmm.

More reading.

JOHN

Uh, the, legacy systems at Adams had the same basic database structure as --

MR. TURPLEE

Okay. What about when you’re in mid-jump, and time seems to slow down, and --

JOHN

I’m pretty sure that’s done with wires.

MR. TURPLEE

Oh.

Reading.

MR. TURPLEE

What about, there’s always some old man who sits off to the side and just watches the big fight. What’s with him?

JOHN

It’s a film convention.

Reading.

JOHN

Does the job actually involve combat, or...?

Mr. Turplee just stares at him.

John forces a nervous chuckle.

Mr. Turplee continues staring at him.

JOHN

Sorry.

MR. TURPLEE

What if you had to fight, say, two guys.

JOHN

I don’t know.

MR. TURPLEE

Say each one had a poison-tipped jackknife in each hand.

JOHN

I don’t know.

MR. TURPLEE

And they’re both... part tiger.

JOHN

I don’t know.

MR. TURPLEE

Could you break this desk?

JOHN

What?

MR. TURPLEE

Just slam your fist down and -- HYAAH! BOOM!

JOHN

No, I --

MR. TURPLEE

C’mon, BREAK THE DESK!

JOHN

Break it?

MR. TURPLEE

DO IT!

JOHN

I’m here for a database job, I --

Mr. Turplee slaps John lightly across the face.

John is stunned.

Mr. Turplee does it again, and continues doing it.

MR. TURPLEE

Not man enough to break the desk, huh mister martial-arts guy? Huh?

John backs out of range.

JOHN

That’s it! Look, I don’t know what is with you, or what your obsession with martial arts is, or... what, exactly, but this is so clearly unprofessional that I definitely don’t even want to work here. Good-bye.

He leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Mr. Turplee sighs.

CLOSE ON Mr. Turplee as he neatens some of the papers on his desk.

Then PAN to reveal that THREE NINJAS have appeared behind Mr. Turplee.

(Clearly, none of them are John.)

Mr. Turplee freezes. He doesn’t see the ninjas, but he’s aware that something’s up.

Just as he starts to turn around --

FADE OUT.

FADE IN: 

INT. LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

SANDRA and TIFFANY watch TV.

(Tiffany rather more intensely than Sandra.)

TV SINGERS (O.S.)

It’s wacky and Canadian! / It’s That Nutty Moose!

(After this TV title theme, nothing else from the television is clearly audible.)

TIFFANY

Look at that!

SANDRA

What?

TIFFANY

There’s a brown Nissan Sentra outside the bar.

SANDRA

Um. Yeah?

TIFFANY

It’s the exact same one that was way in the background in that curling scene last week.

SANDRA

Oh. Um, great.

TIFFANY

I’ll bet this means the Tim Hortons guy has a stalker.

ERIC enters.

TIFFANY

You’re late!

ERIC

What did I miss?

SANDRA

Eric. You hate That Nutty Moose.

ERIC

No way!

SANDRA

You called it “dull, derivative pabulum.”

ERIC

Only because I didn’t properly comprehend it, though. See, I’ve got a theory.

TIFFANY

Ooh!

SANDRA

What?

ERIC

The moose? is god.

TIFFANY

Wow!

ERIC

Just ponder it -- everyone whom the moose gazes directly at, is subsequently blessed in some way.

SANDRA

(deadpan)

You really think That Nutty Moose has supernatural elements?

ERIC

Okay, perhaps my theory is a bit ‘out there’ --

ALICIA makes a dramatic entrance.

ALICIA

Or PERHAPS it’s not OUT THERE ENOUGH!

ERIC

Oh, my. You look as though you have something to share with the class?

ALICIA

Get this: Jim the Mountie is actually dead!

SANDRA

But he just walked into the bar!

ALICIA

Exactly. What’s you’re seeing? That’s his ghost.

The argument gradually becomes heated.

ERIC

But we’ve never seen Mountie Jim die!

ALICIA

It could have happened off-camera!

ERIC

Technically, Mountie Jim could just be a figment of Doris’s imagination at this point.

TIFFANY

No, if Mountie Jim died, somebody would have said something about it!

ALICIA

PLEASE! We don’t even know if these episodes are in chronological ORDER!

SANDRA

What is wrong with you people? There are no hidden meanings in That Nutty Moose. It’s a light dramedy about a small town in

Saskatchewan!

ALICIA

And one that you, apparently, can’t appreciate properly!

TIFFANY

Yeah!

SANDRA

That’s it! All of you: out! Just leave me to watch my show in peace.

ALICIA

Sorry.

ERIC

It’s been tough, y’know, since --

SANDRA

Go!

Sandra shoos them all out.

FADE OUT.

OVER BLACK

TITLE: “On May 24th, LOST fans will be released back into the general population.”

ALICIA (V.O.)

I’ve got Fringe DVR’d.

TIFFANY (V.O.)

Eh.

ERIC (V.O.)

I suppose it’ll do.

TITLE: “We apologize for the inconvenience.”

TITLE: “LOST”

FADE OUT.

FADE IN: 

INT. AIRLINER CABIN – DAY

ANGIE (30s) sits next to an empty aisle seat. A large bag sits at her feet.

On the other side of her, RYAN (8) sits in the window seat. A small bag sits at his feet.

RYAN

Mom, I’m bored!

ANGIE

Do you want a movie?

She pulls a portable DVD player out of her bag.

ANGIE

There’s Nemo, and there’s Shrek, and --

RYAN

I wanna watch The Hurt Locker!

ANGIE

What?

RYAN

Aunt Katherine let me watch it, and it was awesome, and they’re all trying to stop these bombs from going BOOM!

ANGIE

We don’t say “BOOM!” on the plane, Ryan.

RYAN

And then one of the bombs, it blew up, and it made --

Angie points out the window.

ANGIE

Hey, Ryan, look at that cloud! That one looks like a bird! And that one looks like a ball. What does that one look like?

RYAN

The compression wave of a shaped C4 detonation!

ANGIE

Oh god.

RYAN

That other cloud is all crazy, like an IED, or a --

ANGIE

Let’s play with your toys, okay, Ryan?

Ryan digs through his bag.

He retrieves a plastic dinosaur.

He retrieves another plastic dinosaur.

An ATTENDANT pushes a cart past them, distracting Angie as --

Ryan retrieves his favorite toy: a big rectangular chunk of Play-Doh, with little multicolored “wires” of yarn stuck into it, and a watch clumsily embedded in the top.

ANGIE

And look, we’ll land in ju-- oh my god!

RYAN

I made it by myself out of Play-doh! and yarn!

ANGIE

How did you get that past security?

Ryan studies the toy bomb carefully.

RYAN

Sergeant James has to stop the bomb before the clock hits zero seconds.

He prepares to remove one of the ‘wires’.

Angie nabs the toy and puts it in the bag.

RYAN

Aw, MOM!

ANGIE

Let’s put that back and play with your dinosaurs, okay?

Just as she puts it away, the attendant comes by.

ATTENDANT

Would you like anything to drink?

RYAN

(to the attendant)

Did you know that Composition C has a detonation rate of twenty-six thousand feet per second?

ATTENDANT

Aw, really? What’s a composition C?

ANGIE

It’s nothing, really. We’ll all have orange juice.

ATTENDANT

Be back in a minute. Ooh!

At that moment, DYLAN (10) scoots by her and takes the aisle seat.

RYAN

Dylan! I was telling Mom about Hurt Locker!

DYLAN

Bombs are lame.

RYAN

Oh.

DYLAN

And Hurt Locker wasn’t as cool as Scarface.

ANGIE

What?

RYAN

Oh, yeah!

Dylan takes a dinosaur.

DYLAN

(as dinosaur)

“I’ve got three kilos to get to L. A.”

Ryan picks up a dinosaur.

The attendant returns with the drinks.

RYAN

(as dinosaur)

“Give me the heroin! I’ll drive it right by the cops!”

The attendant hears this, and looks at the three of them, alarmed.

ANGIE

Can I get something with alcohol?

FADE OUT.

FADE IN:

INT. RECORDING STUDIO – DAY

A plain recording space with a big vocal mic and a large television monitor (though we can’t see the screen).

A PRODUCER sits at a console behind a large window.

An ACTOR enters the studio, carrying a script.

PRODUCER

Ready for the next scene?

ACTOR

Yeah, just needed some water.

PRODUCER

Great. Make sure you sync up to the images right.

As the actor puts on a pair of headphones --

ACTOR

Got it.

PRODUCER

Okay, “David Lynch project, commentary track for the visually impaired, scene six, take one.”

The actor watches the screen, then reads from his script.

ACTOR

A beautiful 1965 Cadillac approaches the drugstore.

Pause.

ACTOR

John enters the drugstore.

Short pause.

ACTOR

Everything is bright and cheery in a way that is deeply, deeply unsettling.

Pause.

ACTOR

He approaches the woman at the checkout counter, who looks, not model-hot, but still way too attractive to work at a drugstore.

Pause.

ACTOR

That voice was disembodied.

Pause.

ACTOR

So was that one.

Pause.

ACTOR

She dances slowly to inaudible music.

Pause.

ACTOR

Now the screen’s gone all red and wobbly.

Pause.

ACTOR

We hear her maniacal laughter while her face stays still.

Pause.

ACTOR

I think his mouth has begun eating itself.

Pause. The actor watches the screen for the right moment, then reads from the script:

ACTOR

I don’t even know.

Pause.

ACTOR

The drugstore explodes in a giant fireball.

Pause.

ACTOR

And suddenly returns to normal.

PRODUCER

And that’s a take.

ACTOR

Next scene?

PRODUCER

Sure.

ACTOR

Oh, and are we pronouncing it ‘cephal-uh-pod’ or ‘cephal-oh-pod’?

A sudden PUFF OF SMOKE and a smarmy GAME SHOW HOST appears.

GAME SHOW HOST

Congratulations! You’ve just delivered the most interesting sentence in the universe for March 28th!

ACTOR

What? I did?

PRODUCER

Who are you talking to?

The smoke expands to fill the screen, and the actor and game show host emerges from it to --

INT. CHEAP GAME SHOW STUDIO – DAY

The accoutrements of a low-budget 80s game show occupy what looks like an infinity cave.

A large sign overhead says “The Universe”. A set of curtains wall off a nearby area.

CHEESY PRODUCTION MUSIC plays.

The game show host leads the actor to a seat.

GAME SHOW HOST

And for speaking the most interesting sentence in the universe, you receive a free lifetime supply of Malt-o-Meal, and this 1989 Chevy Corsica!

He waves his arms, and the curtains part to reveal the car as TRIUMPHANT MUSIC plays.

LOUD AUDIENCE APPLAUSE, obviously canned.

GAME SHOW HOST

What do we say, Mr. Winner?

ACTOR

Thanks, universe!

As the host leads the actor over to the car, we cut to --

STILL IMAGE

Text at the top: “The Universe: brought to you by...”

And there is a logo for “Quickie Lube”.

VOICEOVER

Promotional consideration for The Universe by Quickie Lube Oil Change. Remember: the only thing vaguely-sexual about Quickie Lube is our prices!

FADE OUT.

FADE IN:

INT. POLICE SERGEANT’S OFFICE – DAY

The SERGEANT (40s, clean-cut) sits at a cheap desk in a small, plain room.

Across from him sits HARRIS (20s, loud, looks like trouble).

Both wear cop uniforms.

Harris pulls out his badge.

HARRIS

Go ahead. Say it.

SERGEANT

Lieutenant Harris, I hereby order you to hand in your badge!

Harris tosses the badge on the desk.

HARRIS

Yeah. ‘cos I’m too close to the case. ‘cos I’ve been doing the job my own way. ‘cos I’ve been pissing off the mayor. Well let me tell you --

SERGEANT

No, Harris. I’m suspending you for being a prick.

HARRIS

What? Is McCrappy telling tales about --

SERGEANT

See, why do you call him “McCrappy”?

HARRIS

He loves that nickname!

SERGEANT

He hates it! Now everyone calls him that!

HARRIS

So?

SERGEANT

Son, where are your manners?

HARRIS

(shouting)

I’ll tell you what I think of ‘manners’ --

SERGEANT

I’m sitting right here. You don’t have to yell at me. Why do you always shout?

HARRIS

I’m just loud!

SERGEANT

The entire squad doesn’t have to hear every conversation you have.

HARRIS

So what?

SERGEANT

I just don’t need to hear you call in your suppository order at the pharmacy while I’m eating -- that’s on the days when I still have food.

HARRIS

What’s that supposed to mean?

SERGEANT

You’ve been stealing somebody’s lunch from the fridge almost every day, Harris.

HARRIS

Yeah, well, it takes a lot of fuel to run this engine.

Harris pulls out a stick of gum and begins chewing it loudly.

SERGEANT

Oh, god, not that chewing-with-your-mouth-open thing.

Harris spits it in his hand and attaches it to the underside of the desk.

SERGEANT

Are you in grade school, Harris? Just get out of here.

HARRIS

Fine. I’ll work the case myself. After all, I closed the Park Street murders solo.

SERGEANT

And maybe if you’d spend a little less time bragging and a little more time giving other people credit, you wouldn’t be such a drag on morale.

HARRIS

Fine.

Harris gets up, knocking his chair over.

SERGEANT

Harris? Come on.

HARRIS

No, I’ll go. But don’t think kicking me off the squad will kick me off of justice.

He storms out of the room, leaving the door open.

SERGEANT

Close the door behind you. Were you raised in a barn?

MCCRACKEN (30s) -- another hotheaded, renegade cop -- pokes his head in.

MCCRACKEN

You wanted to see me, Sarge?

SERGEANT

McCracken. Harris is suspended. You’ve got the DiMarco homicide.

MCCRACKEN

I don’t know, Sergeant. I’m a rebel who doesn’t play by the rules. I cut corners to get the job done, and I don’t care who I rub the wrong way.

SERGEANT

Well, you’re not going to steal sandwiches, are you?

MCCRACKEN

No, that’s a dick move, why would I -- wait, was that Harris? Was Harris stealing my chicken-salad lunch croissants?

SERGEANT

That’s not important --

As he exits:

MCCRACKEN

I am gonna kick his --

SERGEANT

McCracken!

McCracken steps back in.

MCCRACKEN

I know, ‘Close the door,’ I got it.

McCracken exits, closing the door behind him.

The sergeant looks at the badge.

Sniffs it.

Tries taking a bite out of it.

FADE OUT.

FADE IN:

INT. STUDIO EXEC OFFICE – DAY

CANDACE (20s) and SAM (20s) sit across from an EXECUTIVE (50s, balding, ponytail) in an expensive-looking office with sci-fi movie posters on the walls.

CANDACE

And the movie we’re pitching you is called...

SAM

... The Lost Cowpoke!

CANDACE

Here’s the story --

Just as Sam picks up a printout and starts reading from it, the executive speaks up.

EXECUTIVE

Stop. Just stop. A Western? Really?

SAM

“The year is 1875 --”

EXECUTIVE

Westerns are out. Sci-fi is in.

CANDACE

Um -- exactly!

SAM

(sotto voce)

What?

CANDACE

(sotto voce)

Just read.

SAM

“The year is 1875 --”

CANDACE

... of the Galactic Empire!

Candace is clearly making all of this up.

SAM

... and sheriff Jenkins --

CANDACE

The sole legal enforcer of a mining colony on the sixth moon of Krelkon!

SAM

Is fighting off some bandits --

CANDACE

An invading force of sentient alien mindworms!

SAM

He chases them out of town --

CANDACE

And they flee through hyperspace!

SAM

But they abduct his wife --

CANDACE

In a statis pod, to take her back to their home planet!

SAM

So he rounds up his deputy --

CANDACE

The dreaded KillBot 3000!

SAM

They get on their horses --

CANDACE

That’s H-O-R-apostrophe-capital-S-E-S, a breed of sentient spaceships.

SAM

And even though they’re almost killed by Indians --

CANDACE

By a warrior race of sentient, genetically-modified spacefaring buffalo!

SAM

They, uh, get her back.

CANDACE

By peeling her out of the gooey stasis pod and ray-gun blasting their way out of the mindworm planet’s central command!

The executive pulls out a cell phone, presses a few buttons, sets it on the table. After a moment, the BIG BOSS answers.

BIG BOSS (V.O.)

What is it?

EXECUTIVE

Boss, I’ve got a promising sci-fi property for you --

BIG BOSS (V.O.)

Dammit, sci-fi is out. It’s crested. Romantic comedies are in.

CANDACE

Uh -- did I mention the Killbot 3000 is sassy and gay?

BIG BOSS (V.O.)

Hmm. Let’s talk.

The executive picks up the phone and talks with his boss. Meanwhile --

CANDACE

(sotto voce)

You think this is how Firefly got made?

Sam shrugs.

FADE OUT.