This script art a part of
The UnScripts Project
Your personal Shakspearian folio of humor, love, woe and other silly emotions.
A burglar jumps from one of the ground-level windows of a large, glass building. The glass has been shattered, an alarm is wailing, and police sirens can be heard from just far enough away to be of no use whatsoever. The robber sprints from the building to the street, and dives through the back door of a car parked on the side of the road.
Robber: Drive, drive!
The driver does, and the burglars proceed to get away.
Driver: Did you get the important thing, the nature of which we're going to leave intentionally vague so the police can explain it in the next scene?
Driver: Dude, have you ever really looked at your hands? ...I mean muahahahahahaha!
Robber: Oh wait, before we close this scene, we need to make sure that the audience can tell we're the bad guys.
Driver: Alright, lemme just run over these puppies someone has conveniently placed in a box in the middle of the road.
He does this, and the audience becomes filled with righteous fury. However, one puppy seems to have made it. Struggling doggedly onward despite a broken leg, its perseverance despite the excruciating agony is an inspiration to us all. The Robber shoots him.
Driver: Awesome! And did you see how cute those puppies were before we murdered them? Excellent!
Robber: We're so totally the bad guys, dude! Rock on!
Robber and Driver: Muahahahahahaha!
Just outside of the bank has become a bustling crime scene. Police duck under the yellow police-line tape to go back and forth between their jobs and their cups of coffee, red and blue lights are flashing, and there is a general feeling of bustlingness. The camera moves to a small group of officers talking to one of the bank tellers. She seems shaken up, but otherwise unharmed.
Police Officer: (writing things down on a small notepad) ...I see. So you didn't get a very good look at him?
Teller: Oh no, I did. It's just that I was so distracted by the flashy lights that I forgot everything.
Police Officer: ...Excuse me?
Teller: Well, you know how it goes. First the robbery, then the alarm, then the sirens and the flashy lights, and finally all these people in the bank, taking pictures and asking questions and all manner of things that aren't accounting... I'm rather mentally preoccupied, you can see!
Police Officer: I...see. Well, my name is Officer Rob Dean, if you need anything, my badge number is 2507, feel free to call when your life becomes boring enough for your memory to function properly again.
Teller: Oh, I will. Thank you so much, Officer Thomas.
Officer Rob Dean: Dean.
Officer Rob Dean: Dean.
Officer Rob Dean: Dean.
Officer Rob Dean: Dean!
Teller: No, you don't understand. I did get a good look at him, but I've just forgotten in all the excitement.
Rob Dean gives up and leaves to go talk to another police officer, Richard Johnson, a younger officer with a nasally voice and a mildly irritating sidekick complex.
Dean: Hey, Johnson. I'm a little bit frustrated from my previous conversation, so I'm just going to come over here and ask you a few professional-sounding questions while ignoring the slightly obvious penis joke in your name. Your parents must have really hated you. Anyways, what have you found so far, Johnson?
Johnson: Golly sir, thanks for asking! I've got camera footage and witness descriptions of a man who apparently doesn't exist on any records, the license plate number of a car that has been in our impound lot for the past 18 months, and a healthy sense of admiration for my superiors. How's your day going, Mr. Dean sir?
Dean: Damn, Johnson, not well. First that woman, and now no evidence... It's just gettin' harder, you know? Ever since the bank foreclosed on my family's farm...
Johnson: Oh yes, sir, terrible business that.
Dean: And then mom passed on, then dad...
Johnson: I'm so sorry for your losses, Mr. Dean, the whole thing's just awful.
Dean: ...then Little Sister Sallie...
Johnson: Curse you, cruel fate!
Dean: ...and of course my poor dog Scooter...
Johnson: Alright, man, we get it...
Dean: ...and then my wife leaving me...
Johnson: No, seriously, we get the point...
Dean: ...taking the house...
Johnson: No one likes a whiner, you know.
Dean: ...and the car...
Johnson: Will you shut it already?
Dean: ...and custody rights to our teenage daughter... Damn, Johnson. Things just haven't been the same...
Johnson: WILL YOU CLOSE YOUR GODDAMN--I mean golly sir, I sure do sympathize with your character.
Dean: Me too, Johnson. Me too.
Just as the scene is about to end, Officer Dean remembers something that he had forgotten.
Dean: Oh, Johnson, I just remembered something I'd forgotten.
They already know, I just said that.
Dean: Quiet, you! Anyways, Johnson, at this point the audience is probably wondering what was stolen. What do you say we refer to it as "the device" to give the audience a hint about its nature that will only make sense once the robbers reveal its nature in the next scene.
Johnson: Great idea, sir! I'll get right on it!
Dean: Hehe, "Dick Johnson."
The robber and the driver's car pulls into an inconspicuous-looking garage. The two get out of the car and enter an elevator which takes them several floors down to a nefarious-looking hideout of some sort.
Robber: I dunno, man, I'm still not sure whether or not the audience understands that we're supposed to be the bad guys here.
Driver: Good point. Hey, you know what's really funny? The holocaust! Hahaha, oh man!
Robber: Haha, yeah! Hey, you want to beat up some children after this?
Driver: Sure, but only if we get to murder some cancer patients first.
Robber: Sounds like a plan! Now that our characters are adequately developed, what do you say we suddenly act extremely afraid of some scary-looking mastermind type guy that we could probably stop working for any time we wanted?
Driver: *gulp!* You know I hate reporting to Doctor Madness! You know, our boss, Doctor Madness, the most ruthless crime lord, like, EVER?
Robber: Yes, the very same Doctor Madness who once had two henchmen killed for forgetting to tuck in their shirts when reporting to him!
Driver: Gosh, he certainly sounds even more evil than we are!
The elevator opens and the two men walk through a short hallway up to a metal double-door. The door slides open, revealing a large backwards La-Z-Boy armchair. The man sitting in the chair attempts to spin it around, but unfortunately the chair has no wheels, and the legs jerkily rotate a few degrees at a time, emitting a jarring squeal each time the chair grinds a few inches across the floor. After a moment of this, the chair has rotated enough to allow the audience to see the evil Doctor Madness. He grins villainously at his two henchmen.
Doctor Madness: Hello gentlemen.
Robber and Driver: (shivering) *gulp!*
Doctor Madness: All your base are belong to--I mean do you have The Device?
Robber and Driver: (shivering) *gulp!*
Robber: You mean the device with the nature which we have so far kept hidden from the audience in a misguided attempt to generate suspense?
Doctor Madness: THE VERY SAME!
Robber and Driver: (shivering) *gulp!*
Driver: Do you want us to reveal the nature of it, now, your evilship sir?
Doctor Madness: Never! Everyone knows it's the good guys' job to reveal the nature of secret super awesome technology thing that the bad guys steal. DO YOU WANT TO DEVIATE FROM STANDARD PROCEDURE?
Robber and Driver: (shivering) *gulp!* No your badship most non-non-heinousness sir!
Doctor Madness: Damn straight.
Back at the station, Officer Dean is being chewed out by an irate mustachioed black man, obviously the Police Chief, Mac Waynard.
Waynard: Dammit Dean, I have had it up to here with your unorthodox methods! I've got the mayor breathing down my neck and if you don't get your act together and catch the people that stole The Device soon, the mayor will have my ass and I'll have yours. Capiche?
Dean: Dammit sir, isn't there anything more important to you than rules? What about keeping the city safe, dammit! Who knows what those robbers could do with The Device?
Waynard: Dammit Dean, although I disagree with your unorthodox methods and often find you abrasive, I cannot help but respect your policework! But dammit, we need a plot device!
Dean: A plot device... dammit, that's it! I've got it! We put a tracker on their car earlier somehow! Dammit, what if we used this tracker as a sort of "tracking device," to somehow track the robbers to their hideout? Could we do this, dammit?
Waynard: Dammit Dean, you may have something here dammit!
Dramatic music plays as as the police arrive at Doctor Madness's secret evil lair that was actually in Queens, New York. Dean prepares to kick down their surprisingly flimsy door.
Dean: On my mark... now!
Dean kicks down the door and the police rush in.
In Doctor Madness's evil lair, alarms begin going off and signs reading "INTRUDER ALERT" begin flashing all over the place. Doctor Madness's henchmen all begin to freak out.
Robber: Oh no! How on earth did they find our super secret hideout which was actually conveniently located in downtown Queens!?
Doctor Madness: YOU FOOL! Utilizing my years of experience in the field of evildoing I can already tell that you and your driver, in your nincompoopery, allowed a tracker to be placed on your escape vehicle!
Driver: Oh no! I swear I didn't mean to Doctor Madness!
Doctor Madness: SILENCE! It is of no consequence! Despite the overwhelming odds that appear to be stacked against me, I remain confident! For I have... The Device!
Robber: Of course! The mysterious device which the audience still does not know the function of!
Doctor Madness: Yes! Perhaps it is time we give them a little...demonstration! And by them I of course mean the police, and not the audience because I am not aware that I am a character in a movie! Muahahahahaha!
Driver: Hey, I just noticed that all of our dialogue ends with exclamation points! How come we're yelling so much!?
Doctor Madness: We are building dramatic tension! Muahahahahaha!
Robber: Sweet, I love dramatic tension!
Doctor Madness: Me too! Muahahahahahahahahhahahahahahaha!
Officer Dean storms into the inner sanctum of Doctor Madness's lair. The rest of the police force went somewhere else or ran away or died or something. Doctor Madness is standing in the center of the large chamber holding a small box.
Dean: Freeze, Madness!
Doctor Madness: Oh dear, you've caught me. I guess there's nothing I can do now other than turn myself in.
Dean: Well, that doesn't seem suspicious at all. I guess the good guys win! Woohoo! I'll just let my guard down as I slowly walk towards you with my handcuffs out...
Suddenly, Doctor Madness throws open his box to reveal...The Device! Apparently, all along The Device has been a tire iron.
Doctor Madness: Muahahaha! Now you will meet your doom at the hands of The Device, fool!
Dean: Oh no, please, I-- ...Hey, wait a second. A tire iron? I don't see how this can make any sense at all in the context of the movie thus far. I mean, why would you need to steal a tire iron from a highly-guarded bank vault? Furthermore, I don't really understand why we would go to all the trouble to bring it back, nor why you would have this secret lair built to hide it, nor why you would think that unveiling it could somehow hinder my arresting of yo--
Dean, his head now significantly more hit-with-tire-iron than it was previously, falls to the ground.
Dean: (drooling slghtly) Ba-heeble deeble buh wuh wuh wuh wuh...
Doctor Madness: (brandishing his tire iron) I've done it! I've defeated the great Officer Dean! Now I shall rule downtown Queens! I can truly say, without a hint of doubt in my mind, that my perceived victory is complete: No one can stop me now! Muahahaha!
Dick Johnson enters the room.
Johnson: Not so fast, Madness!
Doctor Madness: Johnson, excellent timing. You are just in time to see my secret evil plan reach completion!
Johnson: No, actually I'm going to kill you.
Doctor Madness: Oh, right, my bad.
Johnson does this. Then he rushes over to where Dean has fallen.
Johnson: (crying a little, but it's not gay because they are very manly tears) Oh God mister Dean sir, please don't die on me!
Dean: (still drooling, grinning from ear to ear) I've got perma-nerma-nerma-nent brain damage!
Johnson: (pulling out cell phone and calling an ambulance) Just hang in there Detective Boss Dean, I'll get you to a hospital if it's ok with you and everything...
Dean: Herp da derp durr da huurrrrr...
The sun shines through the windows of hospital room. Officer Dean lies on the bed with a bandage around his head, still looking slightly dazed. Johnson sits by Dean's bedside, feeding him spoonfuls of soup. Waynard is also in the room, smoking a cigar.
Johnson: (raising the spoon) Ok detective Dean sir, here comes the choo-choo.
Dean: No! No choo-choo! I want ice cream! Ice cream ice cream ice cream ice cream!
Waynard: (puffing on his cigar) Would you two ninnies pipe down? I'm trying to look surly and cantankerous.
An attractive female nurse walks in.
Nurse: Don't mind me folks. I'm just here to reaffirm everyone's preconceived notions about gender roles. Oh, and to change Dean's piss bag. Who's a good little pee-maker?
Dean: Ooh, ooh, is it me?
Nurse: Yes, you are a good little pee-maker, yes you are.
The nurse finishes with Dean's catheter and leaves the room.
Johnson: So, I guess Madness's secret lair was in downtown Queens and the device was a tire iron all along. Just out of curiosity, why didn't we figure this out sooner?
Dean: Isn't it obvious? We're all woefully incompetent! We make terrible police officers!
Waynard: Yeah, I don't even know how we keep our jobs!
Johnson: Oh, I see! I guess we are incompetent! But still, wouldn't someone have said something about all this?
Dean: Oh, it's not just us. Everyone else is incompetent, too.
Waynard: Haha, yeah, we're surrounded by morons!
Johnson: Well, that's another mystery solved thanks to us, and especially you mister Dean boss sir.
Dean: Yup, I sure am great... I sure am.
- THE END.