Bill Holly had a bad feeling when he woke up in his Laketown apartment that evening. It wasn’t just the hangover, there was something else. A vague sense of loss, of pain, but not inside him. It was outside of him, somewhere out there, beyond the four walls of his bedroom, on the street or in the subway, or perhaps in another similar apartment across town. Episode 23: Take two Mr. Straker
Woodward and McMurdoch step into McArnie's Lakeside Tavern for a drink. The tavern is strangely empty this evening. Suddenly they hear the din of violence outside, and the roar of an approaching helicopter...
Several days pass with mundane regularity. There is little specialist paranormal investigation to do, and you spend much of your time doing laborious chores for the FBI, cross referencing criminal databases and running checks on crime reports for Narcotics, and contraband enquiries. Galloway has been grumbling about budget cuts over the last few weeks, and it appears that the PSIA may suffer the worst. There are rumours that perhaps it may even be disestablished.
Neither Woodward nor McMurdoch has heard from your infiltrated mob associates Julio Sonosa or Andreas Sanchez for many weeks.
Perhaps Sonosa has become wary of using your services after his last turbulent encounter with you.
Indeed, now that you have rescued Lucy Staines, the original objective of your infiltration, your “Cleaning Crew” operation has become largely redundant. Perhaps it will have further use in the future, or perhaps it is a double-edged sword, and will come back to hurt you.
Only time will tell.
Lucy Staines, the girl you rescued from the hideout beneath the city, has been returned to her home and is back living with her father, Joel Staines. You never did allay your suspicions about him, but it seems that your chance is gone on this score, at least for now.
It would also appear that the mysterious Sebastian Singer has vanished for too. In any case, if he were to make contact, it is likely that it would be his old friend Leo Rhodes that he would turn to again. But perhaps somewhere, some time, your paths will cross again. Life can throw some unexpected twists.
The cleaning crew episode comes back to haunt Mcmurdoch on a nightly basis as he grapples with blood spattered nightmares...
Some weeks ago a representative from the NSA met with Galloway and seemed to have explained away the bizarre incident on the fishing trawler to Galloway’s satisfaction at least.
You are in your 2nd storey Laketown PSIA office, another day of mundane FBI work, is drawing to a close, and darkness has fallen over Laketown. Over the road, you can see a few figures ambling across the footpath, underneath the buzzing sodium street lamp and towards the warm glow that is McArnie’s tavern. From your second storey window you can see the lights of a boat not far out upon the lake. All is calm and still.
Galloway steps out of his office, pulls his hat from the hatstand, says good evening, and heads out the door.
Bruce, your colleague whom you have not seen for a while, is sitting at his desk, tapping at his laptop. Bruce is a quiet man. He has a thin patch growing on his mop of dark hair, a five o’clock shadow like a thunder cloud under his chin, and is wearing his customary white shirt and black braces.
He turns to you over his shoulder. "Fancy a beer at McArnie's?"
Ethan mutters to himself as he makes motions with his hand, intently reading a book. "Put the scalpel here and cut the..." He looks up towards Bruce. "Oh, sure, why not?"
Mcmurdoch turns around puts his arm up behind his back and grins "twist my arm buddy..."
Bruce gets up and grabs his coat and hat, and opens the door.
"Can I bring my hot date?" Mcmurdoch caresses his shotgun, lovingly.
Bruce shakes his head, almost sadly. "Yeah man." You head out the door.
"O shit!" says Bruce. "I promised my wife I'd have dinner with her tonight. Gotta take a rain check." Bruce heads back down the quay away from McArnie's to the parking building.
Ethan: "I see. That's rather unfortunate, but I understand. See you around later, then."
Mcmurdoch starts to shuffle, dragging one foot behind the other, miming the action of dragging a ball and chain. Bruce winks at him as he leaves.
You enter via the side door door tonight because a large black truck is blocking the entrance to McArnie’s. The tavern is empty tonight. Rod McArnie is not behind the bar.
"Wonder what's in the truck..." Ethan says, peeking his head around as he goes past. "Huh, where is everybody?"
McArnie's is a pleasant quayside tavern with wooden tables and frost-patterned windows. The night is deep outside. On the other side of the quay is the wharf, the angled masts of the marina bathe in the dim glow of hunched street lamps, and specks of light glint through the darkness from the boat traffic further out on the lake.
Inside McArnie's, alcoves and snugs line the inner wall. A few small weather worn sailing boats are suspended from the ceiling. There are model ships on the ledge above the bar a clipper, schooners, an ironclad, and several old local sailing boats of local fame.
The bar is L shaped. Dining on the right, drinking, card tables ahead of you. A pool table, dartboards, toilets at the far wall ahead of you. The bar is empty.
"Wonder what's in the truck... how many times have words like that got us into a whole heap of trouble, partner?" Mcmurdoch grins.
"Oi! Is anyone here?!" Ethan yells out.
McMurdoch: "And the last time we walked into an empty bar... we almost got smoked by a couple of gangsters."
"Hang on, I'm coming!" Rod McArnie appears behind the bar. "What'll you have, fellas?"
Ethan sighs with relief. "Thought everyone'd been eaten by zombies or something."
"Dang... I thought you weren't gonna show." Mcmurdoch grins and hands him a fiver for the beer he just poured himself.
The phone rings. Brnggg brnggg.
What's with the truck?" Ethan inquires as he sits down at the bar.
Rod McArnie: "Just a second, I'll get that..." Rod disappears around the back.
Suddenly, you hear the sound of helicopter blades outside. The roar is getting louder.
Ethan: "I do not like the sound of that..."
Mcmurdoch turns back to Woodward and sucks back half of his beer. "That's a relief. You know, in the movies, the empty bar scene is usually a prelude to an attack or serious danger of some kind. Good thing we're not characters in some movie, eh."
The chopper volume is now intense. You can hear the sound of a loud hailer, and a spot light sweeping down on the street below.
Mcmurdoch chuckles to himself.
You hear a loud commotion outside, shouts, the sound of fighting.
"Quiet, you." Ethan says as he stands up and runs to the window to check out the helicopter.
Woodward sees outside on the street a group of black clad thugs, wearing balaclavas and wielding baseball bats, surround another man and are attacking him with baseball bats.
What's with the truck?" Ethan inquires as he sits down at the bar.
Rod McArnie: "Just a second, I'll get that..." Rod disappears around the back.
Suddenly, you hear the sound of helicopter blades outside. The roar is getting louder.
Ethan: "I do not like the sound of that..."
Mcmurdoch turns back to Woodward and sucks back half of his beer. "That's a relief. You know, in the movies, the empty bar scene is usually a prelude to an attack or serious danger of some kind. Good thing we're not characters in some movie, eh."
The chopper volume is now intense. You can hear the sound of a loud hailer, and a spot light sweeping down on the street below.
Mcmurdoch chuckles to himself.
You hear a loud commotion outside, shouts, the sound of fighting.
"Quiet, you." Ethan says as he stands up and runs to the window to check out the helicopter.
Woodward sees outside on the street a group of black clad thugs, wearing balaclavas and wielding baseball bats, surround another man and are attacking him with baseball bats.
McMurdoch: "What's up?"
The man under attack is tall and wiry and appears to be taking a beating but is giving as good as he gets.
Ethan draws his revolver and runs to leave through the door.
The man punches and kicks with the skill of a martial artist, and knocks several of his attackers to the ground. He is wearing a white tee shirt, black jeans, and has a tattoo on his bicep.
Mcmurdoch draws his gun and starts to follow Woodward, suddenly regretting not bringing his "hot date".
"Everyone freeze! Put down your weapons!" Ethan exclaims as he runs over, crouching low and holding the gun in both hands towards the mob.
"Mac!" McMurdoch yells back over his shoulder. "There's trouble outside. Keep your head down."
The man in the tee shirt appears to be getting a hammering now. A big gob of blood bursts spectacularly on his face as one of the bats strikes his temple. Suddenly one of the black balaclava'd men charges Woodward with a baseball bat in the air.
Mcmurdoch stops behind some bins for protection and covers Woodward.
You hear a muffled cry from the loudhailer, just above the din of the chopper blades.
"hut.... hut....!!" cries the loudhailer from the helicopter.
The man under attack is tall and wiry and appears to be taking a beating but is giving as good as he gets.
Ethan draws his revolver and runs to leave through the door.
The man punches and kicks with the skill of a martial artist, and knocks several of his attackers to the ground. He is wearing a white tee shirt, black jeans, and has a tattoo on his bicep.
Mcmurdoch draws his gun and starts to follow Woodward, suddenly regretting not bringing his "hot date".
"Everyone freeze! Put down your weapons!" Ethan exclaims as he runs over, crouching low and holding the gun in both hands towards the mob.
"Mac!" McMurdoch yells back over his shoulder. "There's trouble outside. Keep your head down."
The man in the tee shirt appears to be getting a hammering now. A big gob of blood bursts spectacularly on his face as one of the bats strikes his temple. Suddenly one of the black balaclava'd men charges Woodward with a baseball bat in the air.
Mcmurdoch stops behind some bins for protection and covers Woodward.
You hear a muffled cry from the loudhailer, just above the din of the chopper blades.
"hut.... hut....!!" cries the loudhailer from the helicopter.
McMurdoch: "Drop the weapon or I shoot!"
"God damn it! What is it now!?" says Straker, the man in the tee shirt who is under attack.
"hut.... hut....!! " cries the loudhailer from the helicopter.
An assailant drops the bat and pulls off his balaclava. "Don't shoot!"
Straker wipes red blood from his face and looks from the 'chopper to the gunmen. You can hear unintelligible screaming sounds coming from the loud hailer above.
"hut.... hut....!! " cries the loudhailer from the helicopter.
An assailant drops the bat and pulls off his balaclava. "Don't shoot!"
Straker wipes red blood from his face and looks from the 'chopper to the gunmen. You can hear unintelligible screaming sounds coming from the loud hailer above.
"...for the love of god.... who let those idiots in....." cries the loudhailer
Straker: "Put the guns down!"
The helicopter rises and disappears behind the buildings.
Ethan: "%#^&!" He exclaims, turning his gaze towards the helicopter .
All the black clad men are removing their balaclavas now.
Straker: "No-body's going to hurt you! Just put the gun down!"
Baseball bats clatter to the pavement. Straker is making 'calming' motions with his hands.
Woodard relaxes, hand still on his gun as he lowers it to face the ground.
"Just what the hell is going on here?!" Ethan demands.
It sounds like the chopper has landed, somewhere on the docks area. All the men in black look towards the man in the white t shirt. Straker puts his hands behind his head as McMurdoch still has him at gunpoint.
Straker: "Put the guns down!"
The helicopter rises and disappears behind the buildings.
Ethan: "%#^&!" He exclaims, turning his gaze towards the helicopter .
All the black clad men are removing their balaclavas now.
Straker: "No-body's going to hurt you! Just put the gun down!"
Baseball bats clatter to the pavement. Straker is making 'calming' motions with his hands.
Woodard relaxes, hand still on his gun as he lowers it to face the ground.
"Just what the hell is going on here?!" Ethan demands.
It sounds like the chopper has landed, somewhere on the docks area. All the men in black look towards the man in the white t shirt. Straker puts his hands behind his head as McMurdoch still has him at gunpoint.
"Shit!... There could be reinforcements in that chopper", Mcmurdoch mutters.
Straker: "Don't do anything rash now."
Ethan: "McMurdoch, lower your gun for now. Let's try to get some answers out of them before we go all out with the hostilities."
McMurdoch: Mcmurdoch lowers his gun, but keeps it in his hand.
Straker: "What are you? Police? We have a permit you know."
Ethan: "Now, someone, please tell me what's going on here. We're with the FBI."
Straker: "Studio is going to lynch you..." Straker lowers his hands.
McMurdoch notices he still has some beer left in his glass and chugs it back.
Ethan: "...Studio?"
A shaggy bearded man with a beer belly, and blue shirt hanging loosely over grey slacks appears from behind the black truck. His is approaching, and there is rage in his face. He is holding a loud hailer.
Straker: "Yeah, we have a permit to film tonight."
"$ @." Ethan says to himself.
The shaggy bearded man approaches Woodward and McMurdoch. "You cannot be serious! Goddammit, it took us all afternoon to set up that scene! FBI? Your boss is going to hear about this in the morning! You'll never work in Laketown again!"
Straker shouts in the direction of some people behind the bearded man - "Somebody get me a god-damned towel, get this ketchup of my face."
"You'll never work in the U.S again!" cries the film director.
"Sorry dude..." Mcmurdoch grins sheepishly. "But hey... you just got footage of some authentic police work there. How about running a reality TV show instead."
A spotty young man runs off to the truck.
"Sorry." Ethan deadpans. "Next time I see some guys beating a brother up, I'll be sure to just ignore it..."
Straker: "How much did that footage cost chief?"
The shaggy bearded man's fat hands are pumping wildly as he vents his spleen. "Thirty two hundred, uh, forty eight hundred, eighteen thousand, how the hell should I know damn it. Sorry, Al, sorry, but these guys have got me, you know."
This comment really tickles Mcmurdoch's fancy and he starts to laugh uproariously at his own joke. Mcmurdoch is laughing so hard that tears are running down his face.
Ethan: "Settle down, McMurdoch."
Straker is trying not to laugh, behind the director's back.
Ethan spins his revolver and shoves it back into his jacket somewhere with a sigh.
Mcmurdoch holsters his gun and picks up his glass. You should be careful about where you choose to shoot, buddy. That..." He points to McArnie's..." is a cop bar."
"First I've heard of any movie being filmed here. What the hell is up with that..." Ethan says to himself as he heads back towards the bar.
The beaded man is even more enraged with Mcmurdoch. He waggles a finger in his face. "Know this, I've have your ASS! I'll have your ASS!"
Straker cleans himself off .
"Yeah... I've heard about you movie types..." says McMurdoch.
Rod McArnie steps out of the bar. Sorry, fellas, I was about to explain. The main street was closed off. Looks like I forgot to lock the door."
Mcmurdoch is overcome once again by gales of uncontrollable laughter.
"Well, McMurdoch, it turns out you were wrong. We _were_ in a movie," Ethan says with a sigh.
Straker: "Wait, wait this is important..."
The director stomps off, after cursing McMurdoch again. "You've made an enemy!"
Straker: "Does that place," points at the bar, "Sell beer."
Rod McArnie: "Sure as hell!"
Straker: "I'm buying."
Director: "I'm the biggest paid director in Hong Kong! You don't mess with my film, buddy!"
McArnie opens the door to the tavern. I could use the custom, " he chuckles.
Straker takes his jacket from a flunky and follows McArnie.
McMurdoch: "You wanna see some real good footage, buddy... send a camera crew to follow me and my partner around for a week. You'll get stuff you wouldn't believe."
The spotty young man returns with a white damp cloth and hands it to Straker.
("Well, ^#$&," Ethan curses towards McMurdoch half-heartedly. "We'd better watch out backs now. Crazy kung fu ninjas being sent after us will top the list of crap we have to deal with."
Straker: (Impersonating the Director) "I'm the biggest paid Director in Hong Kong! I'm God Almighty. I can't get a Permit to Film worth a damn."
"Well then Mac... how about a refill then." Mcmurdoch waggles his glass at McArnie.
Rod McArnie: "Sure." The usual, Tequila?"
McMurdoch: "I dunno, Mac... what do movie stars drink?"
Straker: "Corona, no Lime." (To McMurdoch) "Scully and Mulder are you?"
Ethan overhears. "More like Mulder and Moldy."
The spotty young man wipes the tomato sauce off Straker's face, daubing it gently.
McMurdoch: "Gimme one of those then."
Rod McArnie: "Coming right up."
Ethan: Sits down at the bar. "Gimme whatever."
Straker: (To flunky) "I can wipe my own face lad."
The youth slinks away.
McArnie begins pouring out the drinks.
Mcmurdoch turns to Straker. "Your boss comes across as a bit of an anal retentive power freak. Or is there a nice guy hidden deep inside?"
McArnie cracks open a bottle of Corona for Straker.
Straker: "My boss is commander in chief of the world, to himself."
McArnie pushes the bottle across the bar to Straker. It slides effortlessly.
Straker: "Oh yeah, He ate a nice guy last week."
McArnie pours out a Tequila for McMurdoch. Outside the film crew appear to be packing up for the evening.
McMurdoch: "Ha! So... what are you guys filming?"
Straker: "'Power Trip'. I'm a no-nonsense PI on the trail of drug money, while trying to save my failing mariage."
Straker: (Sarcastically) "Great, no?"
McArnie pulls a Lakeside Lager for Woodward, and hands it to him.
(326) McMurdoch: "OK? What kind of movie is it? Action, thriller, romantic comedy?
Straker: "The guys with bats not give you a clue?"
McMurdoch: "OK... a sports flick?"
McArnie starts cleaning glasses, and mumbles and tuts to himself.
Ethan sips at his drink. "I've been there before. Well, except for the marriage part. And, uh, being on the trail of the drug money."
Straker: "FBI?"
Straker: "Or PI?"
McMurdoch: "Yeah... we do that kind of stuff for real."
Straker: (Interested) "Is that a fact?"
McMurdoch: "Ah... you tell him Woodward."
Ethan: "I was a private investigator years ago. Didn't work out so well."
Straker: "The handle's Straker, by the way, Alistair."
Ethan: "When I joined the FBI, I stopped having to explain the strange bodies that showed up all over." He takes a gulp of his drink. "Heh."
McMurdoch: "Mcmurdoch, Kyle." Mcmurdoch proffers his hand.
Straker shakes his hand.
The spotty young man returns with a white damp cloth and hands it to Straker.
("Well, ^#$&," Ethan curses towards McMurdoch half-heartedly. "We'd better watch out backs now. Crazy kung fu ninjas being sent after us will top the list of crap we have to deal with."
Straker: (Impersonating the Director) "I'm the biggest paid Director in Hong Kong! I'm God Almighty. I can't get a Permit to Film worth a damn."
"Well then Mac... how about a refill then." Mcmurdoch waggles his glass at McArnie.
Rod McArnie: "Sure." The usual, Tequila?"
McMurdoch: "I dunno, Mac... what do movie stars drink?"
Straker: "Corona, no Lime." (To McMurdoch) "Scully and Mulder are you?"
Ethan overhears. "More like Mulder and Moldy."
The spotty young man wipes the tomato sauce off Straker's face, daubing it gently.
McMurdoch: "Gimme one of those then."
Rod McArnie: "Coming right up."
Ethan: Sits down at the bar. "Gimme whatever."
Straker: (To flunky) "I can wipe my own face lad."
The youth slinks away.
McArnie begins pouring out the drinks.
Mcmurdoch turns to Straker. "Your boss comes across as a bit of an anal retentive power freak. Or is there a nice guy hidden deep inside?"
McArnie cracks open a bottle of Corona for Straker.
Straker: "My boss is commander in chief of the world, to himself."
McArnie pushes the bottle across the bar to Straker. It slides effortlessly.
Straker: "Oh yeah, He ate a nice guy last week."
McArnie pours out a Tequila for McMurdoch. Outside the film crew appear to be packing up for the evening.
McMurdoch: "Ha! So... what are you guys filming?"
Straker: "'Power Trip'. I'm a no-nonsense PI on the trail of drug money, while trying to save my failing mariage."
Straker: (Sarcastically) "Great, no?"
McArnie pulls a Lakeside Lager for Woodward, and hands it to him.
(326) McMurdoch: "OK? What kind of movie is it? Action, thriller, romantic comedy?
Straker: "The guys with bats not give you a clue?"
McMurdoch: "OK... a sports flick?"
McArnie starts cleaning glasses, and mumbles and tuts to himself.
Ethan sips at his drink. "I've been there before. Well, except for the marriage part. And, uh, being on the trail of the drug money."
Straker: "FBI?"
Straker: "Or PI?"
McMurdoch: "Yeah... we do that kind of stuff for real."
Straker: (Interested) "Is that a fact?"
McMurdoch: "Ah... you tell him Woodward."
Ethan: "I was a private investigator years ago. Didn't work out so well."
Straker: "The handle's Straker, by the way, Alistair."
Ethan: "When I joined the FBI, I stopped having to explain the strange bodies that showed up all over." He takes a gulp of his drink. "Heh."
McMurdoch: "Mcmurdoch, Kyle." Mcmurdoch proffers his hand.
Straker shakes his hand.
McMurdoch: "We investigate 'unconventional' cases."
Ethan: "Ah. Ethan, Ethan Woodard."
Straker: "Unconventional... I was right Mulder & the other one. Straker shakes Ethan's hand too.
Ethan: "Ah. Ethan, Ethan Woodard."
Straker: "Unconventional... I was right Mulder & the other one. Straker shakes Ethan's hand too.
Mcmurdoch pulls out a packet of cigarettes and offers one to Straker.
Straker: "Thanks."
Ethan: "Yeah... About all we haven't faced so far is the werewolves. Heheh."
McMurdoch puts one in his own mouth, and lights Straker's and then his own. Mcmurdoch in hales deeply, tilts his head back and blows a thin stream of smoke at the ceiling.
Straker: "'Course..."
McMurdoch: "Paranormal, extrasensory, ultra... all kinds of weird shit."
Ethan: "But I guess that big %^#*in' lizard kind of counts. So never mind."
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're serious."
McArnie says to Straker,"These are good boys", pointing to McMurdoch and Woodward.
McMurdoch: "Yeah... dinosaurs too." Mcmurdoch chugs back his third Jose Quervo. "Whooooeee. Where's the lemon and salt. It never gets any easier. But you pay a price for anything good, eh?"
McArnie prepares a Tequila slammer for McMurdoch.
Straker: (Slyly) "I suppose... I suppose you know all about ghosts?"
Ethan snaps his fingers. "Those guys that had Staines! Rat men, of course!"
McMurdoch: "Ghosts? We had a ghost case, Woodward?"
Straker: "Rat men?"
McMurdoch: "Yeah... you're right."
"He he heee!" McArnie whistles to himself as he cleans the glasses.
"Sure, our first case together. Investigated the prison; It's shut down now because of us. Freakin' ghosts. Freakin' zombies..." Ethan shudders.
Straker: "How much have these guys already had?" Straker asks McArnie, nicely.
McArnie points to McMurdoch. "Three tequilas, one tequila slammer. Mr Ethan, one Lakeside Lager."
Mcmurdoch throws his head back and downs the slammer. His mouth twitching with violent spasms, like a pit bull terrier sucking on a lemon.
Ethan: "Don't be fooled into thinking any strange thoughts. He's like this even when he's sober."
McMurdoch: "Whooeee." Mcmurdoch slaps himself hard on the face. "Even the lemon and shalt don't make it much easier."
Straker: "Oh! That's a relief. What were they like, these Ghosts, Ethan?"
Ethan: "Well, there was just one, I think. Spirit of a prisoner long gone. He'd taken over the prison somehow; controlled the minds of the guards and the others in charge...I think he had a fondness for human flesh, as well."
Straker swigs thoughtfully.
Ethan: "Too bad about Rhodes. He wasn't with us for much longer after that." Ethan sighs.
Straker: "Rhodes?"
Mcmurdoch knocks back his fifth Tequila Slammer. "Whooooeeee. Signor Quervo is a mean mother f%$#er" His fist pumps up and down. "Hey Mac! You need to install a salt lick here!"
Ethan: "An old partner of ours, shall we say. An old guy, but he managed to keep McMurdoch under control, at least..."
McArnie grins, mutters, and continues cleaning the glasses.
Straker: "He, he died?"
Ethan: "Had quite a few bad run ins with the various critters we've encountered. After that boat incident... He got out of the hospital, but it's like he's lost his spirit, his edge..."
Straker: "Spirit... Yes, I know what you mean."
"To Rhodes! Agent extrodinaire." Mcmurdoch raises his glass and downs another slammer.
Straker drinks to Rhodes too.
Ethan: "Think he's just pushing papers around in the bureau's bureaucracy now." Ethan sighs.
The door opens and a man pops his head inside.
Ethan turns around to see the newcomer.
"You want a lift back, or are you OK here?" says the man to Straker. You hear the sound of a diesel truck engine starting.
Straker: "Go home, I'm sure I can find my way back."
"OK." The head disappears.
Straker: "My bike's on the wharf."
Mcmurdoch slides off his seat and staggers up to Straker. "Ghosts, my fren? Why you interested in ghosts? You need our services? Me an' my inestimablist colleague here?"
The beeping of a truck reversing outside, is followed by the sound of the motor fading.
McMurdoch: "inestimablism."
McMurdoch: "inest..."
Ethan: "Sorry about the movie. But like I said, I couldn't just let what was going on happen without doing anything. A flaw of mine that's gotten me into trouble a bit, perhaps..."
Straker: "Well, let's say I was. If you were the first thing that'd gone wrong on that shoot, you'd be the first of many."
Ethan chuckles a bit. After awhile, he asks. "About the ghost, then?"
McMurdoch: "Ghostbusters... tha's what we are. Who you gonna call?"
Straker: "Let's say..." Straker takes a moment to think about this. Let's say that I'd seen something, some one."
McMurdoch: "Youshe have an unwelcome paranormal visitation, we're the men to call."
Straker: "Let's say, and what would you say?"
Ethan: "I'd say, "I'm listening.""
Straker: "Last year, Okay."
Straker: "I saw someone, someone that I should not have seen."
Ethan: "Hm? Can I ask who?"
Straker: "I mean, last I saw her was a funeral."
Ethan: Ethan nods.
McMurdoch: "Mos' people we meet are people we shouln't have seen!"
Ethan: "Let him talk, McMurdoch."
Straker: "This is insane."
McArnie chuckles at McMurdoch as he prepares another tequila.
Straker looks over his shoulder. The tavern is still empty. It seems that everyone else got the message about the street closure.
Straker: "What do you do about a ghost?"
McMurdoch: "An' I can see two of you, Mac. Now thas' jus' not right!"
Ethan: "It might be insane sounding. But let's hear it anyway. No one hear will think it strange, at least."
Straker: "Alright, a friend of mine, Zhang, Alice Zhang. She fell, it was a stunt, it went wrong, it happens. She died. I saw her again. Explain that one."
Straker: "'cos I can't."
Ethan nods. "Well, the generally accepted theory behind ghosts is that the... electric-magnetic field, or the spirit, or the soul, or their consciousness or whatever... Remains behind because of extreme emotions or feelings before their time of death..."
Straker: "But you said 'A taste for human flesh'."
McMurdoch: "Dr Karvorkian! Ha ha ha." Mcmurdoch starts to giggle.
Ethan: "The shock of betrayal. The resentment against a hated foe. The need to protect. The strong feeling of leaving something unaccomplished...It can be anything, really."
Straker: "But, they tend to stay in one place, right?"
Straker: "I mean, you hear about ghosts haunting one place?"
McMurdoch: "Whooo you gonna call... Ghost busters!" McMurdoch slips off his stool and breaks into a hyperactive funky chicken dance, flapping his elbows, wiggling his hips and moving his head back and forward, his oversized adam's apple sliding up and down in time to the music, with all the grace and style of a natural born nerd.
Straker: "Your partner is a class act..."
"I think you've had enough now, mister McMurdoch," says McArnie.
Mcmurdoch slides his gangly six foot four frame back onto the barstool. "Another round with Signor Quervo, Mac. It's been one helluva week!"
Ethan: "Not always. Usually their feelings are tied into a particular place, where they want something to happen - or wish that something hadn't. In Lenny Hobb's case - he's the one we investigated - I believe he had a strong resentment for the public correctional system, and wanted to get his revenge by controlling the fate or those who had controlled his..."
"No can do, friend. You're already having too good a night."
Straker looks over his shoulder again.
Straker: "I should have let it drop."
Ethan: "But that doesn't necessarily mean that's always what happens. I don't claim to be an expert in knowledge of things beyond the grave, having never been dead before. Not at least as far as I know."
McMurdoch: "How abound a round for my fren's, then?"
Straker: "You don't know how to, how to fix, fix whatever it is?"
Straker: "Fix whatever keeps ghosts here?"
Rod McArnie: "Sure why not," he says to McMurdoch.
Ethan: "The first step would be to contact a reputable medium, and try to understand the situation behind the ghost's haunting..."
While MacArnie has his back turned, preparing the drinks, Mcmurdoch surreptitiously slips a hipflask from his pocket and has a sly swig.
Straker: "Listen, my friend. Is this one of those things where, in an hours time, you drop the ruse and think it's dead funny because you've fooled me?"
Straker: "Because that won't be fun for you. I'm serrious."
Ethan: "I wouldn't joke about something like this." .
Straker: "Will you help me?"
"Depends..." McMurdoch enters a rare moment of lucidity.
McMurdoch: "So is this an official job, Agency job, or a private job? You know what I mean..." McMurdoch rubs his fingers together. "... deniros. We got expenses, man."
Ethan: "My situation is my own, and I don't care to explain, but believe me. I take situations regarding faith, the spiritual, and the grave very seriously..."
McMurdoch: "I take situationsss reagarding my own grave very seriously!"
Straker: "Honestly. It's probably a bit outside your area
Straker: (Dismissively) "By which I mean that all this happend on the other side of the world."
Ethan: Well we're using it for right now
Straker: "But I've another question."
Ethan: "Go ahead."
Straker: "Can I follow you getns for a while? Wait, hear me out."
Straker: "After this mess they call a film I'm doing something a bit horror, a bit paranormal. If I tag along with you I can call it research."
Straker: "I'm sure there's a way to bill the studio for it."
McMurdoch: "How about a bit comedy... a bit slapstick. Like The 'X Files'... Crossed with 'Dumb and Dumber'. Mcmurdoch elbows Woodward and winks.
Ethan coughs. "Well, I'm not sure if the agency would be too happy with us for dragging a civillian around with us..."
McMurdoch: "Yeah... skills."
Ethan: "But at least you seem like more intelligent company than what I usually get."
McMurdoch: "What skills you got, buddy. We ain't no babysitters..."
Straker: "The Agency didn't even know there was filming here today - what are the chances they'd spot me?"
Straker: "I'll be good."
McMurdoch: "You need to be alert, ready for anything..."
Straker: "Like a coiled spring."
Suddenly Mcmurdoch spins arouns on his barstool, pulls a tiny derringer pistol from his pocket, and points it at Straker's head, the end of the barrel a few inches from his face, flush between his eyes. "SAY HELLOOO TO MY LEETLE FRIEND!!!"
Ethan draws his own revolver and points it towards McMurdoch. "J***s C***st!"
McMurdoch furrows his brows, snarls and pulls the trigger. A small flame ignites at the end of the gun barrel.
It is a novelty cigarette lighter. McMurdoch convulses with gales of laughter and falls of his barstool, hitting the floor with a thump.
Ethan curses and puts the gun back into his jacket.
Straker: "Funny guy."
Mcmurdoch stays on the floor, unable to get up.
Straker: "But can you do the 'Beam me up?'"
Ethan: "Beam me up...?
McArnie, looks down at McMurdoch and looks skyward, and shrugs.
Mcmurdoch yells from the floor "Hey mac, how about a drink for a dying man?"
Straker takes out his zippo, opens it and puts his thumb on the wheel - squeezing suddely, the lighter flyes up, igniting, and Straker catches it as it falls again.
Ethan: "Forget I said anything. You're just as crazy as McMurdoch is..."
Straker: "Burn't fingers when I was sixteen..."
Rod McArnie: "Last orders, fellas"
Ethan: "That's all for me. I've got to stay alert, keep my senses ready. Never know when you might get mugged or have someone come in for a facelift." He seems to think it over and then chuckles lamely.
Nothing for me," says Straker to McArnie, pocketing the zippo. "Last thing I need to do is wrap my bike around a tree."
Ethan: "Well, if you really want to see our work, we could always use some help. I'll talk to Galloway in the morning if you really want to..."
Straker: "Yeah - I think it would be a big help."
McArnie starts turning the seats upside down and putting them on the tables.
Ethan: "Well, we'll see what we can do. For now, give me your number so I can contact you."
Straker gives Ethan his numbers.
Rod McArnie switches off the primary lights, and the tavern is left half lit.
Mcmurdoch lies underneath the bar, snoring as loudly as a walrus choking on an oversized fish. The flicker of the sodium street lamp bathes your faces with an eerie glint.
Straker: "Do you need a hand with the Merry Musketeer?"
Ethan: "All right, think it's about time to head out, then. McMurdoch, going to sleep here for tonight?"
Mcmurdoch's reply is oanother gutteral baritone snore. McArnie picks up McMurdoch and drags him to the doors. He pushes his head through the double doors and lays him up against the wall.
Woodard snorts. "Well, whatever. No one's going to be dumb enough to mug him right across from the headquarters of an FBI branch, but..."
Ethan: "Ah, thanks a lot." He says to McArnie.
You head off into the night, and go your separate ways. You hear the faint pop pop of gunfire somewhere out there in the city. The moon is three quarter, and broods coldly over Cash Tower.
END OF SCENE
Straker: "Thanks."
Ethan: "Yeah... About all we haven't faced so far is the werewolves. Heheh."
McMurdoch puts one in his own mouth, and lights Straker's and then his own. Mcmurdoch in hales deeply, tilts his head back and blows a thin stream of smoke at the ceiling.
Straker: "'Course..."
McMurdoch: "Paranormal, extrasensory, ultra... all kinds of weird shit."
Ethan: "But I guess that big %^#*in' lizard kind of counts. So never mind."
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're serious."
McArnie says to Straker,"These are good boys", pointing to McMurdoch and Woodward.
McMurdoch: "Yeah... dinosaurs too." Mcmurdoch chugs back his third Jose Quervo. "Whooooeee. Where's the lemon and salt. It never gets any easier. But you pay a price for anything good, eh?"
McArnie prepares a Tequila slammer for McMurdoch.
Straker: (Slyly) "I suppose... I suppose you know all about ghosts?"
Ethan snaps his fingers. "Those guys that had Staines! Rat men, of course!"
McMurdoch: "Ghosts? We had a ghost case, Woodward?"
Straker: "Rat men?"
McMurdoch: "Yeah... you're right."
"He he heee!" McArnie whistles to himself as he cleans the glasses.
"Sure, our first case together. Investigated the prison; It's shut down now because of us. Freakin' ghosts. Freakin' zombies..." Ethan shudders.
Straker: "How much have these guys already had?" Straker asks McArnie, nicely.
McArnie points to McMurdoch. "Three tequilas, one tequila slammer. Mr Ethan, one Lakeside Lager."
Mcmurdoch throws his head back and downs the slammer. His mouth twitching with violent spasms, like a pit bull terrier sucking on a lemon.
Ethan: "Don't be fooled into thinking any strange thoughts. He's like this even when he's sober."
McMurdoch: "Whooeee." Mcmurdoch slaps himself hard on the face. "Even the lemon and shalt don't make it much easier."
Straker: "Oh! That's a relief. What were they like, these Ghosts, Ethan?"
Ethan: "Well, there was just one, I think. Spirit of a prisoner long gone. He'd taken over the prison somehow; controlled the minds of the guards and the others in charge...I think he had a fondness for human flesh, as well."
Straker swigs thoughtfully.
Ethan: "Too bad about Rhodes. He wasn't with us for much longer after that." Ethan sighs.
Straker: "Rhodes?"
Mcmurdoch knocks back his fifth Tequila Slammer. "Whooooeeee. Signor Quervo is a mean mother f%$#er" His fist pumps up and down. "Hey Mac! You need to install a salt lick here!"
Ethan: "An old partner of ours, shall we say. An old guy, but he managed to keep McMurdoch under control, at least..."
McArnie grins, mutters, and continues cleaning the glasses.
Straker: "He, he died?"
Ethan: "Had quite a few bad run ins with the various critters we've encountered. After that boat incident... He got out of the hospital, but it's like he's lost his spirit, his edge..."
Straker: "Spirit... Yes, I know what you mean."
"To Rhodes! Agent extrodinaire." Mcmurdoch raises his glass and downs another slammer.
Straker drinks to Rhodes too.
Ethan: "Think he's just pushing papers around in the bureau's bureaucracy now." Ethan sighs.
The door opens and a man pops his head inside.
Ethan turns around to see the newcomer.
"You want a lift back, or are you OK here?" says the man to Straker. You hear the sound of a diesel truck engine starting.
Straker: "Go home, I'm sure I can find my way back."
"OK." The head disappears.
Straker: "My bike's on the wharf."
Mcmurdoch slides off his seat and staggers up to Straker. "Ghosts, my fren? Why you interested in ghosts? You need our services? Me an' my inestimablist colleague here?"
The beeping of a truck reversing outside, is followed by the sound of the motor fading.
McMurdoch: "inestimablism."
McMurdoch: "inest..."
Ethan: "Sorry about the movie. But like I said, I couldn't just let what was going on happen without doing anything. A flaw of mine that's gotten me into trouble a bit, perhaps..."
Straker: "Well, let's say I was. If you were the first thing that'd gone wrong on that shoot, you'd be the first of many."
Ethan chuckles a bit. After awhile, he asks. "About the ghost, then?"
McMurdoch: "Ghostbusters... tha's what we are. Who you gonna call?"
Straker: "Let's say..." Straker takes a moment to think about this. Let's say that I'd seen something, some one."
McMurdoch: "Youshe have an unwelcome paranormal visitation, we're the men to call."
Straker: "Let's say, and what would you say?"
Ethan: "I'd say, "I'm listening.""
Straker: "Last year, Okay."
Straker: "I saw someone, someone that I should not have seen."
Ethan: "Hm? Can I ask who?"
Straker: "I mean, last I saw her was a funeral."
Ethan: Ethan nods.
McMurdoch: "Mos' people we meet are people we shouln't have seen!"
Ethan: "Let him talk, McMurdoch."
Straker: "This is insane."
McArnie chuckles at McMurdoch as he prepares another tequila.
Straker looks over his shoulder. The tavern is still empty. It seems that everyone else got the message about the street closure.
Straker: "What do you do about a ghost?"
McMurdoch: "An' I can see two of you, Mac. Now thas' jus' not right!"
Ethan: "It might be insane sounding. But let's hear it anyway. No one hear will think it strange, at least."
Straker: "Alright, a friend of mine, Zhang, Alice Zhang. She fell, it was a stunt, it went wrong, it happens. She died. I saw her again. Explain that one."
Straker: "'cos I can't."
Ethan nods. "Well, the generally accepted theory behind ghosts is that the... electric-magnetic field, or the spirit, or the soul, or their consciousness or whatever... Remains behind because of extreme emotions or feelings before their time of death..."
Straker: "But you said 'A taste for human flesh'."
McMurdoch: "Dr Karvorkian! Ha ha ha." Mcmurdoch starts to giggle.
Ethan: "The shock of betrayal. The resentment against a hated foe. The need to protect. The strong feeling of leaving something unaccomplished...It can be anything, really."
Straker: "But, they tend to stay in one place, right?"
Straker: "I mean, you hear about ghosts haunting one place?"
McMurdoch: "Whooo you gonna call... Ghost busters!" McMurdoch slips off his stool and breaks into a hyperactive funky chicken dance, flapping his elbows, wiggling his hips and moving his head back and forward, his oversized adam's apple sliding up and down in time to the music, with all the grace and style of a natural born nerd.
Straker: "Your partner is a class act..."
"I think you've had enough now, mister McMurdoch," says McArnie.
Mcmurdoch slides his gangly six foot four frame back onto the barstool. "Another round with Signor Quervo, Mac. It's been one helluva week!"
Ethan: "Not always. Usually their feelings are tied into a particular place, where they want something to happen - or wish that something hadn't. In Lenny Hobb's case - he's the one we investigated - I believe he had a strong resentment for the public correctional system, and wanted to get his revenge by controlling the fate or those who had controlled his..."
"No can do, friend. You're already having too good a night."
Straker looks over his shoulder again.
Straker: "I should have let it drop."
Ethan: "But that doesn't necessarily mean that's always what happens. I don't claim to be an expert in knowledge of things beyond the grave, having never been dead before. Not at least as far as I know."
McMurdoch: "How abound a round for my fren's, then?"
Straker: "You don't know how to, how to fix, fix whatever it is?"
Straker: "Fix whatever keeps ghosts here?"
Rod McArnie: "Sure why not," he says to McMurdoch.
Ethan: "The first step would be to contact a reputable medium, and try to understand the situation behind the ghost's haunting..."
While MacArnie has his back turned, preparing the drinks, Mcmurdoch surreptitiously slips a hipflask from his pocket and has a sly swig.
Straker: "Listen, my friend. Is this one of those things where, in an hours time, you drop the ruse and think it's dead funny because you've fooled me?"
Straker: "Because that won't be fun for you. I'm serrious."
Ethan: "I wouldn't joke about something like this." .
Straker: "Will you help me?"
"Depends..." McMurdoch enters a rare moment of lucidity.
McMurdoch: "So is this an official job, Agency job, or a private job? You know what I mean..." McMurdoch rubs his fingers together. "... deniros. We got expenses, man."
Ethan: "My situation is my own, and I don't care to explain, but believe me. I take situations regarding faith, the spiritual, and the grave very seriously..."
McMurdoch: "I take situationsss reagarding my own grave very seriously!"
Straker: "Honestly. It's probably a bit outside your area
Straker: (Dismissively) "By which I mean that all this happend on the other side of the world."
Ethan: Well we're using it for right now
Straker: "But I've another question."
Ethan: "Go ahead."
Straker: "Can I follow you getns for a while? Wait, hear me out."
Straker: "After this mess they call a film I'm doing something a bit horror, a bit paranormal. If I tag along with you I can call it research."
Straker: "I'm sure there's a way to bill the studio for it."
McMurdoch: "How about a bit comedy... a bit slapstick. Like The 'X Files'... Crossed with 'Dumb and Dumber'. Mcmurdoch elbows Woodward and winks.
Ethan coughs. "Well, I'm not sure if the agency would be too happy with us for dragging a civillian around with us..."
McMurdoch: "Yeah... skills."
Ethan: "But at least you seem like more intelligent company than what I usually get."
McMurdoch: "What skills you got, buddy. We ain't no babysitters..."
Straker: "The Agency didn't even know there was filming here today - what are the chances they'd spot me?"
Straker: "I'll be good."
McMurdoch: "You need to be alert, ready for anything..."
Straker: "Like a coiled spring."
Suddenly Mcmurdoch spins arouns on his barstool, pulls a tiny derringer pistol from his pocket, and points it at Straker's head, the end of the barrel a few inches from his face, flush between his eyes. "SAY HELLOOO TO MY LEETLE FRIEND!!!"
Ethan draws his own revolver and points it towards McMurdoch. "J***s C***st!"
McMurdoch furrows his brows, snarls and pulls the trigger. A small flame ignites at the end of the gun barrel.
It is a novelty cigarette lighter. McMurdoch convulses with gales of laughter and falls of his barstool, hitting the floor with a thump.
Ethan curses and puts the gun back into his jacket.
Straker: "Funny guy."
Mcmurdoch stays on the floor, unable to get up.
Straker: "But can you do the 'Beam me up?'"
Ethan: "Beam me up...?
McArnie, looks down at McMurdoch and looks skyward, and shrugs.
Mcmurdoch yells from the floor "Hey mac, how about a drink for a dying man?"
Straker takes out his zippo, opens it and puts his thumb on the wheel - squeezing suddely, the lighter flyes up, igniting, and Straker catches it as it falls again.
Ethan: "Forget I said anything. You're just as crazy as McMurdoch is..."
Straker: "Burn't fingers when I was sixteen..."
Rod McArnie: "Last orders, fellas"
Ethan: "That's all for me. I've got to stay alert, keep my senses ready. Never know when you might get mugged or have someone come in for a facelift." He seems to think it over and then chuckles lamely.
Nothing for me," says Straker to McArnie, pocketing the zippo. "Last thing I need to do is wrap my bike around a tree."
Ethan: "Well, if you really want to see our work, we could always use some help. I'll talk to Galloway in the morning if you really want to..."
Straker: "Yeah - I think it would be a big help."
McArnie starts turning the seats upside down and putting them on the tables.
Ethan: "Well, we'll see what we can do. For now, give me your number so I can contact you."
Straker gives Ethan his numbers.
Rod McArnie switches off the primary lights, and the tavern is left half lit.
Mcmurdoch lies underneath the bar, snoring as loudly as a walrus choking on an oversized fish. The flicker of the sodium street lamp bathes your faces with an eerie glint.
Straker: "Do you need a hand with the Merry Musketeer?"
Ethan: "All right, think it's about time to head out, then. McMurdoch, going to sleep here for tonight?"
Mcmurdoch's reply is oanother gutteral baritone snore. McArnie picks up McMurdoch and drags him to the doors. He pushes his head through the double doors and lays him up against the wall.
Woodard snorts. "Well, whatever. No one's going to be dumb enough to mug him right across from the headquarters of an FBI branch, but..."
Ethan: "Ah, thanks a lot." He says to McArnie.
You head off into the night, and go your separate ways. You hear the faint pop pop of gunfire somewhere out there in the city. The moon is three quarter, and broods coldly over Cash Tower.
END OF SCENE
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