Wrong Cops

Sorry I'm late, man.

I saw my karate instructor

on the way here,

and I had to chat with him

for a little while

to be polite;

that's why-

- Hey, I don't need to know

about your life, a**hole.

You got the cash?

- Sorry.

Of course I got the cash.

- Put it on the ground.

- Okay.

- Okay, now give it to me.

- You can count it again if you like.

It's all in there.

- I just counted it by looking at it.

I know it's okay.

- Okay, cool.

- There you go.

- What-what is this?

I-I don't understand.

- Everything's inside.

It's easier to carry.

More discreet.

- Oh, yeah?

But how do I

get the stuff out?

- Are you dumb or what?

You take a knife.

You split the rat open.

You take your weed out.

You smoke it.

Can you manage that?

Or do you need an instruction manual?

- Nah, I'm okay.

That works.

- Oh, that's good.

You're smart.

Now get the hell out of here.

- All right.

- And I don't give a f***

about your karate instructor, okay?

Move!

- Okay, sorry.

- Excuse me.

Police.

Did you drive a car here today, ma'am?

- Yeah, why?

I just-I just bought it.

Um...

What seems to be the problem?

- License and registration, please.

- Okay.

Everything is quite in order.

- Ms. Kieffer, Julia.

That is your name, correct?

- Yes.

Are you gonna tell me what's wrong

or not?

- I'm gonna need you to

come down and see me later today

so we can discuss this ASAP.

It's pretty delicate.

- Okay.

Um...

I'm sorry. I don't understand.

Why can't you just tell me

what's wrong?

Why are you being so mysterious?

- I am not being mysterious.

This is standard procedure, ma'am.

I'm not gonna go ahead and tell you

what the problem is

here in the parking lot like this.

That's not how we do things.

You know what?

I'm gonna need your

contact information right now

so we can talk about this.

Write your number down here clearly.

A cell phone number would be preferable.

- Whatever.

- What on earth are you up to?

- It's okay. I'm done here.

- Oh-oh, good. Great, great.

'Cause I've just been waiting for you

like a freakin' idiot for, like,

a half an hour.

- Did you bring me my coffee?

- Yeah. Yeah.

There you are, your coffee!

- Ah...

- Come on. Hurry up.

- See you later.

- What, do you want a picture

of my dick?

- Excuse me?

- I'm asking you if you want

a picture of my dick.

- No, I don't want a picture

of your dick.

- Are you sure?

- I wasn't looking at your dick.

I was just staring...

at that thing...

um, over there.

- What are you doing here?

Why are you waiting?

- I just stopped

to listen to some music.

- What's your name?

- My name

is David Dolores Frank.

- Your parents know

you're a street hooker,

David Dolores Frank?

- No, 'cause

I'm not a street hooker.

Prostitution is wrong.

Okay, drop it.

Do whatever you want.

I don't give a f***.

What are you listening to?

- Something cool.

- Let me hear it.

Get down here.

- Ugh.

My stomach

is f***ing killing me, man.

- Please, I don't want to hear about

your digestive problem.

I don't want to know.

- Hello.

I'm the one who called you.

- Hi. It's Gary, isn't it?

- Yeah.

- No, I'd rather not shake your hand,

if you don't mind.

- Well, here we are.

There he is.

- Okay. Nice atmosphere.

I like it.

- How long has he been there?

- About an hour.

Went out to buy some cigarettes,

and we went out for a bit of a stroll,

and when we came back,

he was there.

- Did you know him?

- Yeah, he was my neighbor

for ten years.

Name is Gary, just like me.

- How do you think he got in?

- Well, he had an extra set

of my keys,

you know, just in case.

Can't imagine why he had to come

into my living room

to kill himself, though.

I-I don't understand.

- Maybe he just didn't want

to dirty his own place up.

- It could be just as simple as that.

You're right.

- Actually, if I were you,

I'd wash this whole mess up

right now.

Once the blood has dried,

it'll be hell to get clean.

- Well, don't you have

to take out the body first?

- Gary, can I use your bathroom?

- Oh, yeah. Uh, it's just in there.

- Hey, hurry up.

I don't want to spend

the whole morning here.

- Don't you have to take any notes

or even, you know, photographs?

- No.

Why?

- Well, for the investigation.

- Relax.

There's not going to be

any investigation.

I know this stuff!

Uh, okay.

? Eh, eh, eh, eh ?

I mean...

I've heard this a thousand times!

Where is this sh*t from?

I'll bet it's German.

- I don't know.

It's just f***ing cool.

I just like it 'cause it's cool.

I don't care where it's from.

- Oh, yeah!

This stinks of Germany!

- Yes?

- Mrs. Julia Kieffer?

- Speaking.

- Officer De Luca here.

We met on the parking lot.

- What do you want?

- So, uh...

You're not gonna ask me

any more questions?

- Yes.

I have one last question.

How long has this mozzarella

been there?

- I don't know.

A week, maybe.

- Hmm.

I'd say it's been

more like three weeks.

Your refrigerator is depressing.

- Well, at least I feel reassured.

I was really scared

that you would suspect me

of murder.

I mean, the body is in my house.

It could look that way.

I could have killed him

and put the gun in his hand.

- You know what? I couldn't care less.

It's your life.

It's your neighbor who's dead,

not mine.

Right?

- The flush is broken.

- Well, that was boring.

Gary and Gary.

Lame.

- Look what I found in his bathroom.

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