Good Cop drove through the streets of Bricksburg as quickly as he would allow himself. Only moments ago had President Business called him to his office. The cop wanted to arrive as soon as possible, especially since the ride over there was getting quite irritating.
Darn, darn, darny darn!
Due to yet another failed interrogation session, Bad Cop was in a worse mood than usual. Good Cop was having a difficult time ignoring his other half's fuming, considering the fact that he was the one who should have been the most upset. But he knew better than to complain, so he soundlessly sipped from his cup of fairly priced coffee and pressed on.
Eventually, the police officer arrived at Bricksburg's most recently constructed skyscraper, the New Octan Tower. After passing through security, he stopped in the parking space reserved for his cruiser and stepped outside. Before advancing, he took a second to scan the building up and down. Though it was not nearly as tall as the original Octan Tower, its size was still impressive.
Sensing that his other side still needed to let off some steam, Good Cop braced himself and swapped his head around.
Bad Cop made no effort to hide his fury as he stormed through the building's ground floor. Everyone, people and robots alike, made sure to get out of his way. Most avoided eye-contact, though a few dared to catch a glimpse of his snarling face.
Due to his rapid speed, Bad Cop reached the elevator in record time. He jammed the button with his claw hand, imagining it was something - or rather, someone - that would make a perfect chair to batter.
As if it was afraid, the elevator opened its doors immediately. Bad Cop stomped inside, and the doors shut to begin the journey to President Business' office.
The cop took the little time he had to compose himself, taking deep breaths and swiping at his glistening brow. He knew there was no way he could report to President Business in his current state, but the fire that burned intensely inside him would not be quelled so easily.
"Why can't I just take 'em to the Melting Chamber?!" he shouted.
That wouldn't be very nice, Good Cop responded tentatively.
"TOO BAD!" Bad Cop snapped, kicking an imaginary chair. "I don't see what else to do! Interrogations have been getting us nowhere for the past month now!"
True, but that's no reason to melt someone for first-degree burglary.
"Well then, maybe I should just do all the interrogating! Maybe you should stay out of it!" He booted a few more unreal chairs but, that failing to bring him any satisfaction, impulsively yanked the helmet off his head and threw it at the wall. "Everything goes fine until you arrive on the scene!"
Why interrogations don't go the way they should isn't my fault, you know.
Bad Cop opened his mouth to retort, but then closed it when he realized his other half was right. Good Cop couldn't help what happened in the interrogation room. Ever since TAKOS Tuesday, many things had changed. No doubt most of the changes were good, but others...others were better off the way they had been before.
A hint of guilt for blaming Good Cop poked at Bad Cop's stomach, slightly cooling his flaring temper. Leaning back, he shut his eyes and focused on his breathing, releasing more and more of his anger with each exhale.
Silence lingered in the back of the cop's mind for a moment. This is a new issue we're just going to have to adjust to. But don't worry; we'll figure something out.
The elevator stopped with a high-pitched 'ding'. Sighing, the police officer bent over and replaced the black and white helmet on his head. "We better."
Bad Cop stepped out of the lift and marched onward. It took only a few turns down some hallways before he reached the waiting room next to Business' office. He was halfway up to Velma Staplebot's desk when he noticed how hard his heart was thumping. And that wasn't the result of his previous fit of rage.
Don't be so tense! Good Cop cheerfully told him. President Business promised he'd never try to throw us out the window again.
Straightening up more confidently, Bad Cop continued. When he was only a brick away from Velma's desk, he halted. The robot assistant was busy reading through some documents.
"President Business wanted to see me," he informed her.
Velma momentarily looked at him with her glowing red eyes before turning her attention back to the papers. "You may enter. President Business will arrive in fifteen seconds."
Bad Cop replied with a single nod and headed for the large red doors. Wiping his forehead once more, he pushed them open and walked inside.
The office was as quiet as could be, sending a sense of peace rushing through his insides. Out of habit, the cop took a moment to check his surroundings. The place looked almost like an exact replica of the president's office in the original Octan Tower. The collection of relics sat on their respective pillars, though a few of them were missing. An intimidating window was built into the very back wall, but the blue sky instead of starry space was the backdrop. About fifteen bricks' length in front of the window was Business' tall chair and shiny black desk, along with a large pen standing close beside them.
Bad Cop gave a start. Wait a minute.
He paced closer to the desk, staring hard at the pen. It took a second, but he remembered that it was the same highlighter he had used to scribble on Good Cop's face. His analytical eyes wandered over to the side of the window and suddenly caught sight of a new piece of...furniture? Machinery? He couldn't tell what it was, though he knew by the large cuffs lined along the edge that it was supposed to hold something in place. The Po'lish Remover of Na'il and the Fleece-Crested Scepter of Que-Teep were right next to it.
Before he could put the pieces together, the doors behind him burst open.
"Bad Cop!"
The officer choked a gasp and whipped around, expecting the owner of that voice to be decked out in his suit of armor. To his relief, President Business wore only his gray suit and red tie.
Bad Cop released a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Yes, I did!" Business exclaimed with a wide grin. Not in the way he would as to give false assurance or to hint at some evil scheme, but in a confident and friendly manner that set the cop more at ease. "I understand that you have been having some," he put his claw hands together, "complications with your interrogations."
Bad Cop bit his tongue. "Yes."
Business approached him. "Let me see Good Cop."
Switch.
"Hello, President Business!" Good Cop chirped with a large, scribbled smile.
"Let me take a good look at you," Business said, putting his claw hand underneath the cop's chin. He tilted the officer's head left, right, up, and down, eyes narrowed inquisitively.
"Just as I thought," he said moments later. A smirk played across his face. "Bad Cop isn't a very good artist."
...I don't recall being hired for my artistic ability.
Releasing his claw hand, Business passed Good Cop and strode up the red stairs leading to his desk. "I have been thinking about this for some time now, and I have come up with a solution to your problem." Sitting down, he clicked a button on his office phone. "Velma, send up the Super-Secret Search Team." He paused. "Please."
"The Super-Secret Search Team?" Good Cop questioned.
Business nodded. "I assembled them a few weeks ago, and they returned early this morning!"
Good Cop tapped his chin quizzically. "What were you looking for, sir?"
The president's eyes glinted proudly. "You'll see."
The doors were flung open again, grabbing the cop's attention. By the fedora atop his head, Good Cop recognized the man who entered to be Indiana Jones.
"Indy, welcome back!" Business greeted.
Indiana Jones nodded in reply. "President Business."
Following the famed explorer was a group of four people, dressed in dusty clothes, hats, and satchels. They held an enormous red-capped pen over their heads. Behind them was another quartet that carried a white-capped pen.
Good Cop took a few steps back as they filed inside the office, cold nervousness creeping up his spine. "Uh..."
Switch.
Bad Cop planted his feet firmly before the steps, trying to ignore the fact that he too was alarmed.
"Stand them next to the black one over here," Business directed, pointing to the side of his desk.
When they had done so, Business set his gaze back on Bad Cop. "Isn't the Super-Secret Search Team great? They've been diligently searching for these things for three weeks!"
"What for, sir?" Bad Cop inquired, though he had a good idea what the answer was.
Business made a dramatic gesture with his claw hands. "Now that I have the Highlight of Black, the Shar'pie of Red, and the Shar'pie of White, I can redraw Good Cop's face! The way it's supposed to be!"
A feeling identical to the dread of being tossed into the Infinite Abyss of Nothingness settled in Bad Cop's stomach. "Please don't."
All eyes in the room were on him in an instant.
"Please don't?" Business repeated, eyes wide.
"You're kidding me, right?" one woman asked, placing her hands on her utility belt. "You're not serious."
"Dude, we spent three weeks looking for these things!" cried a guy with a pickaxe. "Don't tell us we did all that for nothing!"
"I'm sure I can figure out how to make Good Cop's scribbled face work," Bad Cop continued, ignoring their comments. "I just need more time."
Business frowned. "Oh yeah, that's promising." He retrieved a remote from a drawer inside his desk. "I'm sure if we watched your last interrogation session, we'd see how well that's working out for you."
Before Bad Cop could object, President Business aimed the remote at the large television screen on the wall. At the push of a button, it powered up.
"Show me the most recent footage of Interrogation Room 7 at the Bricksburg Police Station!" he ordered.
"Sir, I really don't think that's necessary," Bad Cop stated, subtle panic in his voice.
Nevertheless, the events from earlier that morning were displayed on the television for everyone in the room to see. The video was divided into four quadrants on the screen, showing different angles of the interrogation process.
The audience watched as Bad Cop flipped around, kicking and throwing chairs about. The criminal visibly flinched when Bad Cop slammed a chair on top of the table. Good Cop then swiveled in, pushed the chair aside, and politely asked the man to tell him who assisted him when he committed his crime.
President Business paused the video, then directed Bad Cop's attention to the prisoner. "You see the look on his face? That's called the 'you-look-ridiculous-and-I'm-going-to-laugh-my-head-off-at-you' look."
Bad Cop said nothing, though his scowl hardened.
Business pushed 'play' on the remote. Exactly as he had predicted, the man fell to the ground laughing. Good Cop stood rigid for a moment, then, with a deep sigh, hung his head. Bad Cop quickly switched over. He grabbed the upturned chair and held it high over the criminal, but that only added to the man's hysterics.
For a few moments, Good Cop and Bad Cop switched back and forth, one trying to hit the guy while the other insisted that he keep his temper under control. It wasn't until the two-faced cop was notified that President Business wanted him to report to his office that Bad Cop threw the chair against the wall and left, ordering his fellow policemen to throw the criminal back into his cell.
When the video shut off, everyone turned their attention to the officer. Though a few were expressionless, the majority looked at him as if they thought he was a complete idiot. Some even had the audacity to smirk at him. Bad Cop's face heated up, and he suddenly felt like heading down to the police station with a few chairs on hand.
The indignant look on Business' face seemed to soften. "You guys can go," he told the Search Team. "You did a great job. Make sure you get your paychecks from Velma Staplebot before you leave."
Indiana Jones nodded. "Thank you, President Business."
He walked past Bad Cop, his fellow explorers following suit. A few purposely bumped against the cop, shooting him sly smiles as they did so. Bad Cop growled between clenched teeth. It was all he could do to keep from lashing out.
Easy, buddy. Just ignore them.
When the Super-Secret Search Team was gone, Business looked at Bad Cop and folded his hands on his desk. "Bad Cop, I know that you're frustrated that interrogations haven't been going well lately. If you want things back the way they were, you need to let me help you. I know just what to do. And..." He hesitated, cringing. "...And it was my fault that you had to draw on a new face, anyway..."
Bad Cop kept still, unsure how to respond to that.
Suddenly, Business' unibrow lifted. "Why am I even talking to you? Good Cop's the one I should be asking."
Switch.
Good Cop stood at attention as Business left his desk and walked down the stairs. The president stopped two bricks in front of him.
"Good Cop, I know what happened to you was all my fault, and I'm really, really sorry." He glanced at the ground, shame briefly shadowing his face. "But I want to make things right. If you let me, I can recreate your original facial design. What do you say?"
Good Cop fidgeted a little bit. "Well...I, um..."
He didn't know what to say. On one hand, he was terrified of the methods Business would use to carry out the plan. The Po'lish Remover of Na'il burned horribly, worse than anything else he'd ever felt. He would do almost anything to steer clear from it.
On the other hand, he was touched that Business actually wanted to do something kind for him. That was a huge step from the way he had treated him before, and the cop felt he should honor Business' change of heart by allowing him to help him.
Additionally, if he got past the pain, Bad Cop could run interrogations the way he liked again. Though interrogations were but a small part of the job, failure in that area ultimately affected other parts, one reason being that his other side's anger would spill over into those areas.
"It would be nice to have my original face again," Good Cop finally admitted, shrugging. "It's just..."
Business nodded encouragingly. "Go on..."
"It's just..." He rocked back and forth on his heels. "I...I'm...It wouldn't cause you any trouble, would it, sir?"
"It's no trouble at all! I'd be happy to do it!"
"Well..." The genuine eagerness in Business' tone barely managed to win over his feelings of apprehension. Reluctantly, he gave the president a small smile. "Okay."
Business' countenance brightened as he clasped his hands together. "Wonderful! Let's get started! I'll have my robots strap you in that chair over there and we can begin!"
Good Cop blinked, then turned his attention to the odd structure at the window. That thing was a chair?
I know chairs. That's not a chair.
