SCENE 1 A large, functionally-constructed shop, with a large warehouse in the back. The neon sign on the front says 'TITCH TRACEY'S COATS'N'STUFF', but its glow is dwarfed by the towering inferno behind it. Looking through the windows, we see only flames. A few fire engines are nearby, supporting the firemen who are optimistically trying to put the fire out. A few police squad cars are dotted around, with policemen putting up tape and keeping passers-by passing by. A dirty, slightly battered Ford draws up, a red light sitting on the dashboard. A man gets out of the driver's side; a penguin gets out of the passenger side. JON: Looks like somebody sure had some fun here. BOB: If I'd known it was still burning I'd have brought marshmallows. JON (Approaching the head fireman): What's the deal, chief? FIRE CHIEF: It's a coat shop. JON: A coat shop? CHIEF: Looks like somebody torched the place good; the flames are burning off petrol, not coats. JON: Not coats? CHIEF: There aren't that many coats in there. The whole place was damn near empty. BOB: Empty? CHIEF: Yeah, that's what I said. I hope you interview your suspects a little more effectively than this. JON: I wonder why it's empty. BOB: It looks a little suspicious. Ten bucks says it's an insurance scam. JON: Well, let's go pay the owner a visit. SCENE 2 A comfortably-furnished private hospital room. Sunlight streams through the blinds and across the bed, in which lies a pathetic-looking figure. A blonde nurse hovers nearby, adjusting the bedclothes, flowers, cards and whatever else happens to fall in her line of sight. BOB and JON enter. JON: Excuse me... NURSE: You can't come in here! Mr Tracey's a very sick man! JON: We're police officers, ma'am. I'm Detective Sergeant Murtaugh, and this is Detective Sergeant Riggs. It's about Mr Tracey's shop. MR TRACEY: Let 'em in, Sally. NURSE: Well, if you're sure, Mr Tracey. (Starts to leave.) But make sure you don't get him all excited! BOB: (Watching nurse leave) We couldn't do it half as well as you, anyway. MR TRACEY: So what's happened to my shop? JON: I'm afraid it's burned down. MR TRACEY: I see. BOB: (Sits heavily on the end of the bed) Still, I'm sure the insurance'll cover it, eh? MR TRACEY: I expect so. BOB: And it's not as if you lost too much stock, is it? MR TRACEY: (Laughs hoarsely.) I guess I was lucky. All my stock got moved to a new warehouse last Thursday. JON: Mr Tracey, it looks like it might not have been an accident. MR TRACEY: No kidding. BOB: So, you got any idea who did it? MR TRACEY: Not a fscking clue. JON: Mr Tracey, if someone this dangerous is after you, it'd be in your best interests to tell us. We could assign some police officers to protect you... MR TRACEY: Listen, you bums, you do not want to get involved in this. Look at me! I been blown up! I got no arms, no legs, one ear and one nipple! And now Llama-Wax's goons take out my shop! I got me a score to settle, and I better not be runnin' into any flatfoot cops gettin' in the way! BOB: Llama-Wax? You mean Llama-Wax Len did this? MR TRACEY: Of course he fscking did! Who'd you think it was, the tooth fairy? Jesus, you call yourselves detectives; in my day we had real cops, who'd beat you with sticks as soon as tell you the time. Get out of my sight, and send my nurse back in, dammit. JON: Thanks for your co-operation, Mr Tracey. We'll be on our way now. Come on, Bob. MR TRACEY: That's right, beat it, ya lowlifes! As JON and BOB head towards the hospital's exit, they discuss their next move. BOB: So I guess we should go pay Llama-Wax a visit, huh? JON: No way! He's the biggest coat manufacturer in town, and we got no evidence! BOB: Whaddaya mean we got no evidence? Weren't you listening in there? JON: All we got is the word of some crazy blown-up old man. We can't take that to trial, the judge'd laugh us out of court. BOB: Well, that's why we're gonna go talk to Len. Maybe he can tell us something new. JON: We're just gonna talk to him? BOB: That's right, we're gonna talk to him. Just a nice, friendly chat over some toffee cream slices, you know... JON: I'm not sure about this, Bob... BOB: Oh come on, Jon, it'll be fun... SCENE 3 A lavishly-furnished office, filled with old and expensive looking furniture, fixtures and fittings. A huge wooden desk stands under an oil painting of a green landscape; behind it, a large leather chair, in which sits 'Llama-Wax' Len. The door opens, and two goons walk in, followed by JON and BOB. GOON #1: Boss, we found these two cops snoopin' around downstairs. JON: Actually, we were just browsing... GOON #1: Shut up! JON: Okay. LEN (Slowly turning chair to face his guests): So, what brings you two to my humble coat shop? JON: Actually, we were hoping to purchase some high quality outer garments, preferably bullet-proof, heat-resistant and with a high tog rating. LEN: Well, I'm sure we've something in stock you'll like. Why don't you sit down? JON: I have wooden legs that don't bend in the middle. BOB: I stand up so that Jon doesn't look out of place. LEN: Billy, would you fetch a couple of our military-range catalogues? And some cream slices, too. (GOON #2 exits.) JON: So, Mr Maxwell... LEN: Call me Len, please. JON: Len-please, He's Detective Sergeant Riggs... BOB: And he's Detective Sergeant Murtaugh. JON: We're from the police department. We're investigating a suspected arson that took place at one of your competitors' establishments. LEN: Really? What a coincidence! And with you trying to find some coats too! JON: We've been speaking to Mr Tracey, the owner. He hinted at some animosity between you and him. LEN: But I love Niall! He's one of my oldest and dearest friends! If he suggested otherwise, I'm sure he must have been joking. Maybe he used smileys, and you missed them? BOB: Let's cut to the chase, Lenny. (Approaches desk.) We know you torched Coats'N'Stuff. LEN: Why, detective, I'm shocked you could even think such a thing! BOB: Quit playing innocent! You're as guilty as Bananarama, and we're gonna make sure you do time! LEN: I take it you have no evidence whatsoever to substantiate your claims? BOB: Not a bit. LEN: In that case, I'm afraid Timothy here is going to have to escort you off the premises. Have a nice day. SCENE 4 Police headquarters. A typically busy open-plan office environment; BOB and JON are walking towards their desks. JON: Just talk to him, you said. BOB: I was trying to scare him into a confession. JON: Great plan. Across the floor, an office door opens and an angry-looking man pokes his head out. The sign on the door says 'CAPTAIN O'HARA, MISCELLANEOUS CRIMES DEPT'. CAPTAIN: Riggs! Murtaugh! Get your butts in here! BOB opens his desk and takes out a hacksaw. CAPTAIN: And bring the rest of your sorry bodies in here too! BOB returns the hacksaw to its resting place and follows JON into the captain's office. JON: Now, captain, I know what you're going to say... CAPTAIN: Of course you know what I'm going to say! You know what I'm going to say because you know I know what you've done! What the hell did you think you were doing? JON: Uh, I'm not entirely sure any more. CAPTAIN: Walking into the prime suspects office under the pretence of buying coats and accusing him of arson! Just who do you think you are?! BOB: At least we didn't kill anyone... CAPTAIN: You're damn right you didn't kill anyone! How am I supposed to run a police department with members of the public phoning up to complain about the behaviour of my officers? If you'd have killed him he wouldn't have phoned, would he? Damn it, Murtaugh, you should know better by now! JON: Actually, I'm Murtaugh... CAPTAIN: I know who you are, dammit! And don't try and change the subject! You two are off the case! Period! BOB: What? CAPTAIN: I said you two are off the case! Period! BOB: But surely that's an exclamation mark, not a full-stop, or 'period', if you will. CAPTAIN: GET THE HELL OUT OF MY OFFICE YOU NO-GOOD EXCUSE FOR A POLICE OFFICER! JON and BOB leave the office and head back to their desks. They find a short, balding man sitting at JON's desk, typing idly at his typewriter. JON: Hey! You! What are you doing? The man stands up and turns around, shocked. He relaxes visibly on recognising the two policemen. STARG: I'm Starg Lieder. You're Sergeant Murtaugh, right? JON: That's right, why? STARG: I work for Lenny Maxwell. You know, Llama-Wax? BOB: Yeah, we know him real well. STARG: Well, I know him better. See, I'm his accountant. BOB: Yeah? STARG: Yeah, every cent he makes or spends goes through me. I take care of all of it. JON: I assume you're leading up to something. STARG: Yeah, yeah, of course. See, there's something that he spends quite a lot of money on that he really wouldn't want anybody to know about. BOB: And what's that? STARG: Bella Emberg merchandise. JON and BOB gasp. STARG: I know, I know, it's sick, but he's constantly buying stuff related to her. Photos, videos, magazines... It's disgusting, it really is. JON: So why are you telling us this? STARG: I got a pay cut this month. Tight-ass S.O.B. BOB: I guess we'd better pay Len another visit, huh? JON: No way, Bob, you heard what the captain said. We're off the case. BOB: Come on, I'm sure if we presented him with real evidence he'd change his mind. JON: Well... We'd better get ourselves a warrant first. You wait here, Mr Lieder, and we'll be right back. STARG: Okay, okay, I'll wait here. BOB: And don't play with his typewriter. JON and BOB return to Captain O'Hara's office. JON (knocking on door and poking head around): Er, excuse me? Sir? CAPTAIN: What the hell do you want now, Riggs? JON (entering, BOB following): I'm Murtaugh. You know you said we were off the case? CAPTAIN: Of course I do. I only said it a couple of minutes ago. JON: Well, we've found some evidence we can use against Maxwell. CAPTAIN: Oh? BOB: Yes, sir. His accountant has come to us with some rather disturbing evidence. CAPTAIN: Well, where is he? BOB: He's right outside. CAPTAIN: Where? JON (points out at his desk): Over at my desk... (Sees his desk is empty.) Oh dear. BOB: Where'd he go? CAPTAIN: That's it. Get out of here and quit wasting my time! If I have to call you in here again you'll be busted down to patrolmen quicker than you can guess the ending to an episode of Scooby Doo! JON and BOB leave the captain's office again and return to Jon's desk. They find STARG to be well and truly gone, and a note left on the desk... BOB (reading from note): Dear cops, we called to beat you up a bit, but you were out. We kidnapped your witness instead. Please call us to arrange a time we can beat you up. With regards, Len's goons. JON: They took Starg! BOB: They've gone too far this time! JON: What are you planning, Bob? BOB: I don't know, Jon. But it's gonna be messy. SCENE 5 Back at Len's office. A number of goons are sitting around on a selection of old and expensive looking furniture. Starg is tied to a chair in the middle of the room. Len himself is perched on the edge of his desk, facing Starg. LEN: So, Starg, you thought you could get back at me for your negative pay increase, did you? STARG (gagged): Mmmgh! LEN: Well, I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you now to protect my secret. It's a shame, but nobody really needs accountants any more. We're replacing you with Microsoft Money. The door opens, and another goon enters. GOON: Boss! A car's just arrived outside. It's those two cops from before. LEN: Well, what are you waiting for boys? Go take care of 'em! The goons rush towards the door and out onto the shop floor. They split up and begin to search the shop for intruders, moving in a line across the shop towards the windows at the entrance. As they reach the window, they look around at each other, confused. GOON #1: So where the hell are they? An engine roars, and the windows and doors shatter into pieces as JON's car slams into the front of the shop. Two of the goons are thrown across the shop; the other four draw small submachine guns and open fire on the car. As they run out of bullets, the sound of gunfire gradually stops. The car, perforated quite thoroughly, the goons start to reload. In silence a lone penguin runs through the broken shop front, leaping up onto the back of the car and running across the roof. BOB is carrying a semi-automatic pistol in each hand, and as he runs he opens fire on the surprised goons, cutting them down with a trained efficiency and speed. The goons dead, BOB stops running as he jumps off the car's bonnet. BOB: You can come in now. JON (poking his head into the shop): Are you sure? BOB: Yeah, everyone's dead. Meanwhile, in Len's office... LEN: You hear that gunfire, Starg? That's the sound of your only hope of rescue being shot repeatedly with a selection of inexpensive sub-machine guns, bought at your suggestion. I must say, you did always know how to save me money. STARG (still gagged): Mmm-mmmm mmmgh! LEN: What's that? A final suggestion that could save me money? (Removes gag.) STARG: Those guns have a tendency to jam if fired for long periods of time. LEN: You bast. An incredibly loud engine sound begins, very close by. Len looks up at his door to see a chainsaw blade cutting a huge arc in the door. As the arc forms a circle, a big chunk of wood falls to the floor. BOB and JON step through the hole into the office. BOB: It's all over Len. LEN (drawing pistol): One false move and the accountant gets it! Now throw down your weapons! JON: Come on, Bob. We've got no choice. (Takes a pistol from under his jacket and throws it to the floor. BOB reluctantly throws down his own pistols.) LEN: Now, I want you to call me a helicopter to take me to France. JON (take radio from inside jacket): Sergeant Murtaugh to headquarters. (Pause.) Hello? Headquarters? BOB: What is it? JON: My radio's broken. LEN: Don't be stupid. It's a police radio, it can't be broken. JON: Well it is. LEN: Give it here. (JON throws his radio to LEN.) Hello? Hello? Is there anyone there? (Twiddles with knob [Oo-er. Ed]) Hello? Testing, testing... one, two, three... STARG: Mmmmgh! LEN: Shut up, Starg, I've taken your gag off. Testing, testing, one, two... STARG leaps to his feet and runs towards LEN. STARG: BAAAAAAAASSTAAAAAAAARRRRRDDD! STARG grabs LEN around the waist and continues running, slamming through the desk, breaking it in two and through the office wall. The two men scream as they fall to the ground. JON (turning to BOB): Well, I guess that wraps that up then. BOB: Our work here is done.