Sometimes, The Wheel is on Fire

Sometimes, The Wheel is on Fire

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Say Again?

After receiving such a great response to my first story a few weeks back (albeit mostly in person, not through the comments section), I’ve decided to share a second one. The other things I’ve written recently for my writing workshop could potentially be reworked into publishable material in the future, but there’s little hope in that regard for a dialogue-only story. Therefore, that’s what you get. Enjoy.

Oh yeah, and beware: Thar be profanity ahead.



“Hi, I’m Detective Dan Ratliff, and I’ll be your good cop for today.”

“You gotta be kiddin me.”

“What? What is it?”

“You actually used the line.”

“I told you I was gonna. You laughed.”

“I didn’t think you was actually gonna use it. I was bein’ polite.”

“And I was supposed to know that how, exactly?”

“We’re here to get answers outta the guy, not make him laugh.”

“I know that, but I thought—”

“He look amused to you?”

“You know you’re supposed to be the bad cop to him, right? Not to me?”

“Does he look amused to you?”

“Well, no, but—”

“That’s cuz he ain’t. Uncomfortable, yeah. Maybe a little angry. But he sure as hell ain’t amused. So can the jokes.”

“Maybe he’s not amused because you interrupted me, Frank, you think of that? Maybe if you let me talk we’d already have everything we need.”

“If you don’t start on him, I will.”

“Fine, fine, no jokes. I promise.”

“Just get to it already. I got lunch with my girl in half an hour.”

“Oh, Brenda? How’s she doin? I haven’t seen her since—”

“Danny!”

“Sorry, sorry. Okay. Now, Jimmy – I can call you Jimmy, can’t I? – we’re gonna ask you a few questions, and it’d be in your best interest if you—”

“Danny.”

“What?!”

“Take the gag out of his mouth.”

“Mmmmmmpfh!”

“Oh yeah, forgot about that. Here, let me untie that for you. Now, is there anything I can get you? Water? Coke? Double espresso latte?”

“Who the fuck are you guys?! What do you want?!”

“Jeez, Frank, can you believe this guy? No one listens any more. Like I said, I’m Detective Ratliff, this is my associate—”

“Ya ain’t no fuckin cops!”

“What, you think we wear these uniforms for fun? Want me to flash my badge for you? Of course we’re cops.”

“You ain’t fuckin cops, and you ain’t fuckin Ratliff!”

“Oh, I’m not, am I? You illiterate as well as stupid? Right here on the uniform, R-A-T... sure looks like Ratliff to me.”

“Only one cop in town named Ratliff. And I think I know my own brother-in-law.”

“Fuck, Danny.”

“No, it’s okay, I got this.”

“You stole the uniform from his brother-in-law?”

“I didn’t know it was... how could... don’t worry, I got this.”

“I ain’t telling you fuckers shit.”

“For the love of...”

“Oh yeah, you got this. Totally under control.”

“So I take it you’re not going to answer my questions?”

“Fuck you.”

“Well, if that’s how you want to play it, that’s fine by me. Bad cop, do your thing.”

“With pleasure.”

“Wait. Wait! What are you doing?! Let go of—yeeeaaAAGH! Ow! Motherfucker!”

“Feel better now, Frank?”

“Much, thanks.”

“My finger! You... you broke my fuckin finger!”

“And he’ll break much more than that unless you tell us what we want to know.”

“I’m gonna fuckin kill you! You fuck!”

“Scream all you want, Jimmy. The whole block’s vacant. No one can hear you.”

“Hey Danny, ya want me to...?”

“No! No, I’ll talk, I’ll talk. What… what do you want from me? Who the fuck are you guys?”

“No more questions, Jimmy. Seeing how you’re the one tied to the chair, I think we’ll be the ones asking the questions. Now, if you would be so kind as to tell us... where’s the fuckin money?”

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