Trudy is leaving her cruiser on the curb and heading for a rundown, white trash small house with dead grass, things strewn about and a car on cinderblocks with no front tires.
A Slightly over weight man in loose fitting blue jeans and an old white sleeveless long neck stained shirt is pacing around. He is noticeably anxious.

Bottom left of the screen reads: Domestic Disturbance 10:33 a.m.

"I'm tired of this shit."
"Sir?"
"I'm tired of it! He's a shithead!"
"Just calm down and please stop with the potty mouth."
Close up of the guy's face from the shoulders up reveals he has
bruises and a little blood coming from his nose.
"Sorry, sorry . but he's a shithead!" and throws his arms up.
"Now, if you can just clam down, take a little time out and tell me
just what is going on."
"Well."
Just then the screen door swings open and out runs another man with a
baseball bat.
Trudy throws her forearms up and dashes off exclaiming, "Shit!"