Cop Page #2

jump two stories without getting hurt.

They were so sure of it...

that the commander of the squad was

setting up parking lot surveillances.

When this guy hit a doctor's office

right on Wilshire Boulevard...

that two, not one, two teams

of detectives were staking out...

that threw this commander's thesis

all to hell...

and Daddy was called in to save the day.

Tell me how you got the scumbag, Daddy.

Sweetheart, nobody jumps two stories

repeatedly without getting hurt.

So, I formed my own thesis.

This guy was just brazenly

walking out of the building.

Okay, that's enough. No more stories.

Kiss your daddy good night

and get to sleep.

Your mommy's right. It's late.

I'll finish it tomorrow.

It's okay. I know how it ends.

This is the one that ends with the

queen who did full drag B and E, isn't it?

You little bugger, you knew all along,

and you let me tell the story.

Three to five, no parole.

I love you, sweetheart.

I love you, too, Daddy. Thanks.

Good night.

Snuggle in. Snuggle.

She's really something, that little Penguin.

Do you have any idea

what you're doing to that child?

Here we go again. Daddy's gonna catch hell.

Daddy? You call spilling out all that filth

and violence being a father?

Do you, Lloyd?

Jen, what do you want me to do?

You want me to tell her

about the Three Bears? Is that it?

She's just a little girl.

An 8-year-old little girl.

Can't you get that through your head?

Let me tell you something you should get

through your head.

They're all little girls, Jen.

Every one of them.

Every one of those pathetic souls who

eventually does herself in is a little girl.

Every neurotic who lies on a couch...

and pays some a**hole shrink good money

to listen to her bullshit is a little girl.

Every hooker out hustling her ass

for a pimp...

who winds up with a dyke, a habit, or

wasted by some psychopath, is a little girl.

All these little girls

have one thing in common.

You know what that is? Disillusionment.

It always comes from the same thing,

expectations.

The greatest woman-killer of all time.

A terminal disease that starts way back

when they're all just little girls.

When they're being fed all the bullshit...

about being entitled to happiness

like it's a birthright.

That's what you don't understand...

when to stop perpetrating the myths

that ruin their lives.

Innocence kills, Jen. Believe me. It kills.

I see it every f***ing day of my life.

Lloyd, I think you're a very sick man...

- Jesus.

... in need of some real help.

Christ, is that the best

you can come up with?

Can't you see that she's got to know

before it's too late?

Know what, Lloyd?

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