"Find em'! Find em'! Just sniff him out! That's a good dog," yells Junior.
Junior and his dog jog through the woods. He stops and holds his walkie-talkie with his free hand.
"Garcia. Garcia! Garcia, you there? Answer me goddamnit! Garcia!"
He puts the walkie-talkie back on his belt loop and looks at the camera.
"My partner should be waiting on the other side. You see, what happens here is that the K9 will pick up the pheromones of fear that the body excretes when scared. Most people think they smell someone's clothing, or what not. That's only when like finding lost children in mountains."
The dog barks and pulls on the leash.
"I think he's got something. Here we go!"
They take off. The cameraman runs after them. The dog stops and looks ahead and then to the right. He does it again and then decides to go right.
They stop at a bush and the dog barks uncontrollably.
Junior draws his gun with his free hand.
"Show me your hands! Show me your hands! Raise your hands and come on out now! Don't make me send the dog in! I swear, I'll do it! You have until the count of three. One! Two!..."
"All right! All right," a figure raises from the bush with his hands up.
Junior looks and says, "Garcia? shit!"
"Yeah..."
"Put your fucking hands down you stupid twit."
Junior and his dog jog through the woods. He stops and holds his walkie-talkie with his free hand.
"Garcia. Garcia! Garcia, you there? Answer me goddamnit! Garcia!"
He puts the walkie-talkie back on his belt loop and looks at the camera.
"My partner should be waiting on the other side. You see, what happens here is that the K9 will pick up the pheromones of fear that the body excretes when scared. Most people think they smell someone's clothing, or what not. That's only when like finding lost children in mountains."
The dog barks and pulls on the leash.
"I think he's got something. Here we go!"
They take off. The cameraman runs after them. The dog stops and looks ahead and then to the right. He does it again and then decides to go right.
They stop at a bush and the dog barks uncontrollably.
Junior draws his gun with his free hand.
"Show me your hands! Show me your hands! Raise your hands and come on out now! Don't make me send the dog in! I swear, I'll do it! You have until the count of three. One! Two!..."
"All right! All right," a figure raises from the bush with his hands up.
Junior looks and says, "Garcia? shit!"
"Yeah..."
"Put your fucking hands down you stupid twit."