Chapter One: Hunting on the Job
It is a scalding hot day, as is usual in Los Angeles. And just as equally routine within Los Angeles, crime is at a high. Today's crime: Armed robbery. Fortunately, Detectives Dave Winslow and Pussy Lips are on the case. Dave Winslow looks like your average young hotshot detective; a twenty-something white kid with his brown hair slicked back wearing aviators with an invincibility complex common with young men his age. Detective Pussy Lips, however, is a different story. Pussy Lips is a Blooded Yautja hailing from the far-off alien planet Yautja Prime. He stands at a solid 7'2", weighing in at 300 pounds of pure muscle. He is wearing armor identical to that of one of his comrades that perished on a hunt in the jungles of Mexico some ten years before.
The two hotshot detectives are speeding in a jadestone green 1970 Chevy Chevelle in pursuit of a white van driven by four masked robbers armed with assault weapons who are driving away with half a million dollars in cash. Behind the two are three standard cop cars with lights flashing and siren blaring through the city. Dave gets on the car radio. "This is Detective Dave Winslow with Detective Pussy Lips. We are in pursuit of a two-one-one with half-a-million in stolen cash from the First Bank of California. All four suspects are armed and driving in a '95 Chevy G-20, license plate reads AVP eight-nine-seven." "That's a ten-four, Winslow" the radio confirms. "We have a squad putting down road spikes down on Winston Avenue and Giger Street, see if you and the boys can drive 'em there." Dave gets back on the radio. "That's a ten-four. Will do." Dave turns towards Pussy Lips. "Fuckin' Mondays, huh?", he quips. Pussy Lips replies with a satisfied snarl, as if to say that he loves his job. "Yeah, me too, Pussy Lips. Me too."
Just a few blocks away, several cop cars are stopped at an intersection with barricades behind them. Two cops are putting down road spikes while the rest are behind the barricades with guns in hand. As the escape van approaches, the driver notices the road spikes and sharply veers to the left and speeds off, with Winslow and Pussy Lips still on hot on their trail. The three cops behind them aren't as lucky, with two of them screeching to a halt before getting to the road spikes and the last hitting the road spikes at full speed, totaling the car as it rolls before landing back on its tires.
"Holy SHIT!", the robber in the shotgun seat gleefully exclaims. "That car got fucking TOTALED, dude!" "SHUT the fuck UP", scolds the Driver. "We're still being followed." Shotgun and the two in the back look behind them and see the '70 Chevelle right on their back. "I heard this new detective's an alien! Like, an actual one from, like, Star Wars, not some illegal from Baja", the Back Left robber chimes in. "Yeah, I heard he rips the skulls and spines out of criminals and he keeps 'em as trophies", exclaims the Back Right robber. "Remember Big Dick Joey De Matto, the serial rapist two cells from me who was serving twenty years before he got sprung? The week after he got out, they found him floating in the harbor with his junk cut off and his head and spine torn out his goddamned body!" "I heard he skins 'em, too!", Back Left replies. "D'you hear 'bout that firebug Cliff Axley?" "Will you PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP, ALL OF YOU?!", yells Driver. "Hey…", inquires Shotgun. "WHAT?!", screams Driver. "Where's the Chevelle?" Driver looks in his rearview to find that they're no longer being followed. "What the fu-"
Before Driver can finish, an energetic BWOOSH is heard as the car begins to spin out of control before coming to a screeching halt after crashing into a car parked by a curb. They all get out the car, bruised and with cuts on their faces. They find that they now have a flat tire, with some rubber seared into a partly melted rim. "Jesus Christ", exclaims Shotgun. The four look behind them and see the Chevelle coming up towards them, with Pussy Lips sticking his body out the window with smoke coming from his shoulder-mounted plasma caster. "Good shot, Pussy Lips", Dave says as Pussy Lips gets back in the car and the two bump fists. "The hell you idiots standing around for? Get the cash and SCATTER!", yells Driver. The other three comply and run off in different directions. Dave, holding a .44 Magnum, and Pussy Lips get out their car and briefly survey the area. "You go this way, I'll go the other", Dave says determinedly. Pussy Lips snarls in confirmation and nods his head. The two split off, with Dave going on foot and Pussy Lips climbing up a nearby streetlight and jumping from rooftop to rooftop.
Shotgun has a pistol in one hand and a sack of cash in the other as he sprints away. As he comes to a corner, Back Right comes from the other side, the two screaming and pointing their guns at each other before lowering them as they realize they're run into each other. "GodDAMNIT, man!", Shotgun exclaims in annoyance as he lowers his gun. "He said to SCATTER. What the hell are you doing here?!" "I'm scattering", Back Right answers defensively. "Well, go scatter somewhere else, you son of a bi-" Shotgun is cut off by the sound of gunfire. Seconds later, the bullet hits the bag of cash Shotgun is holding, which he drops to the ground in surprise. Another bullet is fired, hitting Back Right in the calf, who drops his bag and doubles over in pain. Dave Winslow rushes over to them, with his revolver in hand. As Shotgun begins to reach for Back Right's pistol lying on the ground next to him, Dave points his revolver at him. "Uh-uh", Dave warns as he cocks the hammer back. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Slide 'em over, both of you." The two comply, with Back Right promptly curling back up into a fetal position afterwards. "Smart move."
Driver is running in an alley several blocks away, looking all around him as he runs. Suddenly, a scream pierces the tense LA soundscape, followed by gunfire and more screaming before ending a few moments later. Driver stops dead in his tracks and looks around as he loads his gun. Silence follows and lingers. Driver comes back to reality and continues running off. Only a few yards later, Back Left's dead skinned body drops down from a rope in front of Driver, with fear and disgust covering his face. "Oh my GOD!", screams Driver as he gasps and looks around, only to find nothing. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU?!", Driver screams desperately. "Fuckin' Mondays, huh?", Dave's voice quips. Driver looks to his left and sees a near-invisible outline of a person right next to him. Before he can retaliate, the silhouette grabs him by throat, hoists him in the air and pins him to a nearby wall. The silhouette decloaks itself to reveal itself as Pussy Lips. "Yeah, me too…", Pussy Lips mimics in Dave's voice. "Me too." Pussy Lips then extends retractable metal claws on his left wrist and stabs Driver in the heart, killing him instantly. Pussy Lips lets Driver's lifeless body fall to the ground and rips his spine out of his body, with his skull attached, as he roars triumphantly.
Later on, the two detectives meet up once again with their perps and trophy as they escort them to a cop car to be put in the system and jailed. As Dave closes the car door on the perps, he notices the bloodied skull and spine in Pussy Lips's hand. "Looks like today was a good day at the office for ya, huh?", Dave remarks. "You gonna mount that above your fireplace with your others?" Pussy Lips playfully jabs his elbow into Dave's side. "C'mon man, you know I had to make that joke. It pretty just presented itself.", Dave explains. The two headed back to their Chevelle and drove to the station. "Wanna go for a drink after this? I could go for a drink.", Dave says as they drive off. Another day on the job and another day of hunting well done.