Murder Show She Screenwrote
A sportsball, memorabilia from a global crime syndicate, evidence of water-theft (punishable by death on Arrakis), a gambling prize, the husk of a sports-water cyst, and the large leaf on which this madness was transcribed.
In case you haven't read anything on the website, one of my favorite story hooks is the one where I find something that has been rejected, thrown away, or just plain chucked into the river. I use that one a lot. It fits the theme of the place. Plus, I'm lazy. Sometimes, sure, there's an interview, but, it's always with wildlife.
Anyway, I'm not interviewing wildlife or crazed newspaper editors today. I'm being lazy and finding something I found in a truck down by the river. (Apologies to Bob Odenkirk) As usual, it's just fragments and torn paper, befitting something chewed on by drum.
Special Serial Murder Crime Forensics Tactics Squad: Jackson
aka "SSMCFTS:J"
Directed by: Roland Emmerich and Sam "Boot" Hill
Written By: Ehren Kruger
Produced by: A Giant Pile of Cocaine
TOKEN BLACK GUY: "So you're tellin' me that this guy kills multiple people the same way every time, even though it's all elaborate?"
FBI PROFILER GUY TOTALLY NOT MULDER: "My god, you're a cop on the Special Serial Murder Crime Forensics Tactics Squad, you should understand what we mean by "serial killer."
TBG: "It's not my fault, I think whoever gives me my lines is racist."
[Missing Pages and Mold]
PROFILER: "From seeing the instagram photos from the man who sold the murderer's sister a car last year, I can tell that our killer is a white guy with a ponytail who orders expensive coffees, even though he can't tell the difference between them. FURTHERMORE - [insert plot twist here: EK]
ATTRACTIVE FEMALE SCIENCE LADY TOTALLY NOT SCULLY: "Whoa! Let's wait on those lab reports, cowboy."
INTERN: "They're already done, boss! I was holding them back for dramatic impact!"
SCIENCE LADY: "I thought I was fast, but in reality there's no way I could have even sent those to the lab by now."
INTERN: "Just 'Pullin' a Scully,' as we say in the lab."
PROFILER: "Nobody says that except as a euphemism for..."
[Pages Missing]
The characters are standing around the dead INTERN. Nobody is therefore picking up EVIDENCE but SCIENCE LADY has her hand in a PLASTIC BAG. For REASONS no one has turned on any LIGHTS, even though it's a CRIME SCENE.
PROFILER: "Murder."
TBG: "We are murder police, Captain."
PROFILER: "It's pronounced 'Capain.' It's French."
SCIENCE LADY: "Put it in the murder bag."
TBG: "But your hand is in there."
ATTRACTIVE WHITE MALE WITH JAWLINE: "He's made this personal, FBI Special Murder Agent Capain Psycopath. Unnamed Intern there was one our own."
AWM approaches PROFILER and puts a hand on his shoulder. It is RAINING, even though we are technically INSIDE.
AWM: "That intern worked for free, Capain."
PROFILER: "Goddamnit. Also, I'm a psychiatrist, and it's pronounced 'Psycopah,' it's Portuguese.."
TBG: "I thought you were a psychologist?"
PROFILER: "I'm Doctor Special Murder Agent Capain Psycopah, Agent. And don't you forget it."
[Several pages appear to have been eaten by a dog at this point]
Everyone is standing around in the dark, even though they could obviously turn on a light or something. It's their office, which is oddly abandoned, and spacious. It looks more like a Fortune 500 tech office than a government office. Have you ever even been to a government office? Oh man, we totally make more money in a few minutes than those rubes do all year. Anyway, uh, what? Where was I? Does this shit matter? - EK.
PROFILER: "It's a sex thing."
SCIENCE LADY: "....that thing you do with all the pens?"
PROFILER: "No! I mean the murder-killer serial murderist. The crime that we are solving with psychology. He has a sex thing for coffee. And murder."
SCIENCE LADY: "And science."
PROFILER: "Psychology IS a science."
SL: "Like, a Discovery Channel science. We might as well get out there and look for fucking bigfoot." (Can we use "fucking" on Public Access? I literally do not know. - EK. Also, get an intern to see if bigfoot is real)
PROFILER: "You can't tell me that I don't know what I don't know! I don't know what I don't know! There are things I know you don't know! About knowing! Can your science know knowing?"
SL: "Whoa there, Sigmund Fraud. I do forensics. It has flashing lights, computers, there's a quirky minority in charge of my technical gear and therefore it is science and it is true. There's math. Math, Capain. Maths. I'd even go so far as to say I use "the calculus." If what I do is fraudulent, or even somewhat unscientific, then that'd be real, real bad for lots of people, Capain Psycopah.
PROFILER: "There's no way we're convicting people or murdering them in dramatic violent moments on just bad pop psychology and biased psuedoscience! That'd be ludicrous."