INT. – NIGHT
Detectives Pitts-Wiley and Kriss pore over case files. The humidity in the room is stifling, but the continue to rifle through dossiers, and photos. Both look as though they haven’t slept much in the last few days. Ties loosened, dangle about the necks as though the gallows call. Perhaps it does. This case isn’t like that others. There’s a wrinkle they know they’re missing. But both Kriss and Pitts-Wiley are determined. The know the Tiger Woods’ press conference is a career bust and they can’t let it slip through their fingers. Suddenly Kriss slams down a folder. He’s fed up.
KRISS: It just doesn’t make sense! There’s got to be something else, something we’re missing.
PITTS-WILEY: What do you mean?
KRISS: Woods is holding a presser, but why? Sure, there’s that bullshit bond that occurs between celebrities and people who don’t even know that. I get that. You know, people think they’re owed something and that is what it is. But isn’t the only real question whether or not Tiger’s playing in The Masters?
PITTS-WILEY: I see where you’re going with this but people feel betrayed. Outraged that this guy they looked up to turned out to be kind of a heel.
KRISS: So the fuck what? Tiger Woods is a golfer. We know him as a golfer. He didn’t cheat at golf. He cheated on his wife. Not saying that’s cool, but why the hell is a guy who swings the wrenches well a moral barometer anyway. There’s gotta be something else here! We can’t honestly care that much and I’ll be goddamned if this case is my legacy!
KRISS drags on a cigarette that had been burning in a nearby ashtray
PITTS-WILEY: Take it easy, take it easy. You know the first rule of this game: Never take it personal. We don’t need another Palin meltdown.
KRISS: You’re right. You’re right. But the evidence says the only thing he needs to say is “I’m playing in The Masters.”
PITTS-WILEY: It’s deeper than that though.
KRISS: How do you mean?
PITTS-WILEY: He needs a whole new thing, a new persona. Whatever he’s gonna say, he can’t say it like old Tiger. That guy died in front of his house. He needs…a new edge. Remember when Hulk Hogan became Hollywood Hogan? Dyed his beard black and went all N.W.O?
KRISS: Of course.
PITTS-WILEY: He needs something like that, but with a dash of Kobe.
KRISS: Kobe?
PITTS-WILEY: Kobe. After that Eagle Creek thing, he kind of embraced his villainy but still did enough good guy shit that he went back to being OK.
KRISS: Keep talkin’.
PITTS-WILEY: He needs the works though. All black outfits except for Sundays, a string of girlfriends Clooney-style but still, you know, doing charitable shit on the low and taking care of his kids.
KRISS: So he needs to be Jack Nicholson instead of Jack Nicklaus?
PITTS-WILEY: Exactly. See, our moral compass ain’t that great. Lots of regular people bang on the extramarital tip and people kind of shrug. For celebs it’s different if you embrace it. If you do that, people will go along hook line and–
KRISS suddenly starts shuffling through papers. He’s looking for something and he’s on the scent like a bloodhound.
KRISS: Hook, line and sinker. Look at this?
PITTS-WILEY: Yeah? And?
KRISS: And look at those dates.
PITTS-WILEY: I’m not following.
KRISS: Obama’s stimulus package success. The Christmas Day Bomber cooperating with the feds. Sebelius telling people to brace for skyrocketing health insurance premiums. Senate Dems offering reconciliation to get the Public Option passed. What does all that have in common?
Pitts-Wiley’s eyes widen in horror as he connects the dots.
PITTS-WILEY: They’re all stories that have been…buried.
KRISS: (Clutching the files) Fuckin’ A right! A handful of dirt naps. Who has time to worry about these things when Tiger’s banging cocktail waitresses thirty at a time? When John Mayer’s cock may or may not be racist? Jesus fuckin’ wept alright.
PITTS-WILEY: Shit. This thing is deeper than I thought. Look at this: Senator John Ensign gave one of his jump-offs and her family 96 grand. That’s June. The feds are looking into this to see if this is true. And just as this shit was about to blow–
KRISS: Tiger.
PITTS-WILEY: But, but Ensign’s a sitting Senator. All the guy talks about is fiscal and moral responsibility!
KRISS: Right. But he’s just a senator and those are just felony charges.
PITTS-WILEY: We gotta go to the captain with this!
KRISS: I hope you mean Morgan. The captain…I think he’s been bought. What happened when we brought that Sanford fuckery to his attention?
PITTS-WILEY: He threatened to put us on traffic detail. Had to kick that one to the fuckin’ feds.
KRISS: Those fucks…you see they’re bustin’ Kerik today?
PITTS-WILEY: Offa one of our snitches. So what do we do?
KRISS: What can we do? Tiger’s a straw man. And us? We’re fuckin’ grocery clerks. So, I’m gonna grab a brew and see if I can keep this Lil’ Wayne fucker in the clink as long as possible.
Kriss leans back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head as Pitts-Wiley stares at the files spread across his desk, wondering if it’s all worth it.
(Stay tuned for more from the files of the Buddy Cop starring Kriss & Pitts-Wiley.)
please keep wayne locked up…