This is the city.
Los Angeles, California.
interfacing humanity...
representing every race, colour...
creed and persuasion...
that God,
no matter how he is worshipped...
chose, in His infinite wisdom,
to deposit here...
in the cultural nexus
of the Pacific Rim.
Almost 4 million people
work and play here.
And like any other place
anywhere...
there are those who have it
and those who want it.
Those who have it, enjoy it...
no matter how they got it.
Those who want it, can get it
by attempting to better themselves...
in a sympathetic community populated
by decent citizens cheering them on.
Or they can try to take it
the easy way.
Because even in the City of Angels,
from time to time, some halos slip.
That's where I come in, doing my job to
the best of my ability on a daily basis.
I work here.
I carry a badge.
Dragnet!
Police, police
police officer, ma'am
Their job
Their job
To enforce the laws
To enforce the laws
Their job:
To enforce the laws
Enforce
Enforce the laws
To enforce the laws
Their job: To enforce the laws
J-J-J-J-Just the facts, ma'am
Just the facts, ma'am
Just the facts, ma'am
D-D-D-D-Dragnet
Dragnet
To enforce the laws
To enforce the laws
To enforce the laws
Dragnet, Dragnet, Dragnet
Their job: To enforce the laws
To enforce the laws
To enforce the laws
To enforce the laws
Police officers, ma'am.
Just the facts, ma'am.
Just the facts, ma'am.
J-J-J-J-J-J-J-J-J-J
To enforce the laws
M-My name's Friday
M-My name's Friday
Enforce the laws
M-My name's Friday
Their job
To enforce the laws
And preserve the safety
of decent citizens
Dragnet, Dragnet, Dragnet
Ladies and gentlemen, the story
you are about to see is true.
The names have been changed
to protect the innocent.
For example, George Baker
is now called Sylvia Wiss.
Hey, who called
the fire department?
What the hell is going on here?
Chief, where's the fire?
See the fire?
I see the fire.
I see the fire.
Good! When you wake up...
tell Jerry Caesar
he's out of business.
It was Wednesday, January 7.
A cool day in Los Angeles,
with westerly winds...
and light, scattered clouds
at 3,000 feet.
I was working day watch
out of Robbery-Homicide...
at the same desk
my late Uncle Joe occupied...
when he served with the department
Many aspects of the officer's routine
have changed since Uncle Joe's time.
Now there are new methods,
new philosophies, new equipment.
The standard service revolver
and simple lead sap...
have given way to Taser guns
and anodized metal batons.
But there's one thing
that never changes.
The face of crime. It just gets bigger
and badder and uglier every day.
My partner's name is Frank Smith.
The boss is Captain Gannon.
My name's Friday.
- Joe.
- Captain.
Frank's late.
Must've been held up in traffic.
- Frank won't be coming in today.
- 24-hour virus?
- Or tomorrow.
- Forty-eight?
Frank quit.
Bought a goat farm.
Moved to Ukiah. Left you this note.
He was too broken up to talk about it.
Said he knew you'd understand.
Every man has a dream to chase.
Frank's was that goat farm.
- I understand. But tell me something.
- Yeah?
Those 3.6 million citizens who expected
him to be on the job this morning...
will they understand?
Captain Gannon had assigned me
to investigate the Pagan robberies...
a pattern of serial crimes
which had occurred throughout the city.
They'd seemed merely irritating,
but were gaining notoriety...
through their growing frequency
and naked brazenness.
I was to contact my new partner
at the central receiving lot.
A less experienced officer might have
been concerned he was getting potluck.
But I knew that any detective
the department had to offer me...
was automatically worthy
of my respect.
- Sergeant Friday?
- Who wants to know?
I'm Pep Streebek,
your new partner.
- Not looking like that, you aren't.
- Really? What's that mean?
It means I don't care what
undercover rock you crawled out from...
there's a dress code for detectives
in Robbery-Homicide.
Section 3-605...
.10,.20,.22,.24,.26,
.50,.70,.80.
It specifies clean shirt, short hair,
tie, pressed trousers...
sports jacket or suit and leather shoes,
preferable with a high shine.
Streebek's unauthorized outfit
and facial growth were history.
For the first time in 12 years, I rolled
into traffic with a new partner.
Detective Pep Streebek:
Male, Caucasian...
six feet, 165 pounds...
no distinguishing scars.
He had an extensive list
of merit citations which was tainted...
by his total disregard
for departmental procedure.
He pictured himself
as some hipster, free-bird cop.
But his wings were about
to be clipped...
because now he was going to play
the detective game by my rules.
Friday, we're allowed to go 55.
On some occasions, even faster.
I'm well aware of the
federally-mandated speed limit.
But did it ever occur to you
that by going 8 miles an hour slower...
we might save gas and ease the burden
on the taxpayers who pay our salaries?
A little extra gas
isn't gonna put the city in hock.
Besides, this looks bad.
Live a little!
It's the vertical pedal on the right.
We arrived at the Griffith Park Zoo...
Los Angeles's habitat for wild animals
sustained in dignified captivity.
An adult male lion and a security guard
had been tranquillized with a dart gun...
and subsequent robberies
had occurred.
These animals have it pretty good.
Simulated surroundings,
three squares a day.
If these creatures could talk, they'd
give the citizens a vote of thanks.
Friday, these animals...
were trapped, stunned and roped,
crated and shipped, dropped into cages.
You think they were in the wild
forming lines, jockeying for position...
saying, "Take me!
I want to live on damn cement"?
When I look in their eyes,
I get a different message.
We'll leave it at that.
Are you the police?
Friday, Streebek. Robbery.
You have some Pagan cards?
Yeah. Three of them.
Left in separate cages.
Let me show you where I found them.
This is Ben, our boa constrictor.
The missing giant anaconda was still
here last night at 8:30.
I know because that's when it gets
its final feeding.
It's not always its final feeding.
Sometimes it hides a little snack
for later.
Just the facts,
if you don't mind, ma'am.
What exactly does a Central Bolivian
Anaconda choose to feed on?
It eats whole, live groundhogs.
- You skip breakfast, Friday?
- Whoever stole it's gotta feed it.
We also seem to be missing
one of these.
What is the approximate dry weight
of the Madagascar Fruit Tree Bat?
You mean you don't know?
This is the one
I understand the least.
Somebody must've wanted that lion's mane
bad to pull a stunt like that.
Although, as Mohawks go,
it's not that bad. It'll grow back.
How do you tell that to kids who haven't
seen a lion and won't want to again?
Kids, it'll grow back.
Yea!
Arsonists posing as firemen
had left a Pagan card...
in the charred ruins
of a downtown warehouse.
We were advised to contact
the owner of the stolen merchandise...
soft-core porno lord, Jerry Caesar...
at his notorious pleasure compound
in the coveted Bel-Air section.
Oh, thank God! Vibrator repair?
No, ma'am.
Los Angeles Police Department.
Sorry.
It's enough to churn your guts,
isn't it?
This girl pruning this bush
with her...
That a slut peddler like Jerry Caesar
could build a modern day Gomorrah...
in the same city where they recorded
"We Are the World."
- Hi.
- Hi.
Don't get too friendly.
Hi. Can I help you?
Police officers, ma'am.
L.A.P.D. Robbery. I'm Friday. This is...
- April!
- That's right.
She was a Baitmate.
Bait magazine.
She was featured.
I get the hang of it.
In the April issue.
No, Mr Silly. February!
My name is April.
Don't tell me. Your favourite movies are
The Sound of Music and Yes, Giorgio.
You love to go bobbing for apples.
Your major turn-offs are...
anchovies, people
who don't use coasters and...
And men who smoke in public places.
Let's go meet Jerry.
There's Jerry over there.
I'm gonna have a place
like this someday.
Dream on, Streebek, dream on.
It's about time.
I called you cops three hours ago.
Yes, sir. My name's Friday.
This is Detective Streebek.
What's missing?
How about the entire run...
every single copy of our
- Bait.
- That's his skin magazine.
You say.
The intelligent subscriber regards it...
as a politically-oriented,
socially-impacted monthly.
I'm not gonna allow a gang
of cement heads to intimidate me...
just because I refused to publish
their stupid manifesto.
- Tell us about that.
- Here. Read it for yourself.
"Manifest of the International
Brotherhood of Pagan.
We believe bad sex and good drugs are
the cornerstone of a great democracy.
- The peak of pornography..."
- We get the general idea.
My publishing company is not a
private platform for a bunch of yahoos.
I don't care how many copies
they buy.
I don't have to publish their junk just
because they got 1st amendment rights.
I've got 1st amendment rights, too.
Look 'em up.
I don't have.
I can quote 'em to you.
Anyhow, how much do you figure
a monthly run of your...
"magazine" is worth?
It's more money than you'll ever see
in your life. And I do that every month.
My money's clean.
I'll tell you what you do before you go
home and start polishing your pennies.
Go out and get my magazines
back on the stand where they belong.
Listen, hotshot, I don't care for you or
the putrid sludge you're trowelling out.
But until the laws are changed,
my job's to get back your boxes of smut.
Since I'll be doing it holding my nose,
I'll be doing it with one hand.
Excuse me. Jerry, it's time
for your collagen treatment.
And don't forget, you're having
your pores sucked at 3:00.
Thank you, Sylvia.
Boys, as you can see,
I've got my work to do.
Why don't you get the hell out of here
and do yours?
You have very strong hands.
Hey, Sylvia Wiss!
Yes, that's me.
They oughta transfer you to
Missing Persons. You know everybody.
Don't you read the papers? Saturday is
Bait magazine's 25th anniversary party.
Caesar is reuniting all
of his former Baitmates.
Miss Sylvia Wiss, right here,
was the very first Baitmate ever.
Fascinating.
Sergeant, if I asked your honest opinion
about something, would I get it?
You can bet the house on it.
Would you say these look like
the breasts of a 43-year-old woman?
No. No, they don't, Miss Wiss.
They're quite impressive,
bordering on spectacular.
We have to be running along now.
What's your hurry?
Wouldn't you like to have
an early lunch?
Listen, Joe,
it's the darndest thing.
I seem to have
left my notebook in the car.
It's gonna take me 15, 20 min...
A half an hour to find it.
Why don't you pump Sylvia privately
for information?
And I'II, you know...
- Nice meeting you, Miss Wiss.
- I had a good time, too.
Come on. Let's go to the car
and find that notebook.
Are you crazy?
Sylvia Wiss wanted you.
Let me tell you something.
There are two things which differentiate
the human species from animals.
One, we use cutlery.
Two, we can control our sexual urges.
You might be an exception, but don't
drag me into your private hell.
You've got a lot
of repressed feelings, don't you?
Must be what keeps your hair up.
- What is bothering you besides me?
- I'm thinking about those Pagans.
If all they were after was revenge
against Caesar, it's slime versus slime.
But when they attack great institutions
like our city zoo, my hackles turn red.
You'll lose those red hackles
if you eat those chili dogs.
I can handle it.
They're the worst thing for you.
Filled with nitrates, toxins, poisons.
And you're doubling up on them.
Mister, outside of cigarettes
I only have one vice: Chili dogs.
So pipe down and let me
enjoy my lunch in peace.
Do you know the things that can fall
into an industrial sausage press...
not excluding rodent hairs
and bug excrement?
I hate you, Streebek.
Except for you and canned cling peaches,
I'd be hard-pressed to find anyone...
that doesn't know you should never leave
your car keys in the ignition.
It's called a mistake. But I don't
suppose you ever make any of those.
At ease, Streebek.
We got another one.
Chemical train hijack
at the freight yards.
Damn Pagans must be living on No-Doz.
Yes, sir. We'll roll
as soon as we requisition a new...
One more thing.
Police and fire departments...
have been reporting vehicles stolen,
so keep an eye on your car.
a replacement vehicle...
we were issued
a new Ford Escort subcompact...
and responded to the call at Southern
California's largest railhead...
with more than 1,000 miles of track
lying parallel over 2 million ties...
hewn from majestic redwood forests.
had been siphoned individually...
from their respective
hijacked tanker cars.
We questioned the battered
train engineer, Seor Tito Provencal...
and attempted to determine the precise
identification of the missing gases...
from the owner of the
chemicals company, a Mr Roy Grest.
Actually trichlornitromethan
and the pseudo-halogenic cyanogen.
Pseudo-halogenic cyanogen.
They're shipped in separate containers.
Mixed properly in the exact ratio...
they form a liquid fertilizer
that's clear as water.
- But you wouldn't want to smell it.
- Why is that?
It burns the eyes, lungs, and throat,
causes vomiting...
and if continuously inhaled, death.
Sort of like your aftershave.
It's time to "Advance"
with the Reverend Jonathan Whirley...
founder of MAMA,
the Moral Advance Movement of America.
Today, Dr Whirley's special guest is
police commissioner for Los Angeles...
Ms. Jane Kirkpatrick.
Dr Whirley.
Thank you, George,
and welcome once again to Advance.
Commissioner...
Please, will you call me Jane?
Only if you call me Jonathan.
Have you seen this guy?
What a mental fur ball.
Happens to be one of my favourite shows.
Why don't you listen and learn?
What a deep honour it is for this city
that you have chosen Los Angeles...
to be the new focal point for
the Moral Advance Movement of America.
It's quite simple, Jane.
If one wishes to effect a financial
upheaval in this country...
one should set his or her sights
on Wall Street.
If one wishes to revolutionize
the political system...
he or she would naturally
go to Washington.
But when dealing...
with pornography, filth, crime...
degradation...
what better place is there to begin with
than Los Angeles...
the current capital of depravity...
in what sadly passes
for the modern world.
We had been advised to follow up on
a theft at 8823467 Magnolia Boulevard.
At this time of day,
it took us 20 minutes to get there.
The complainant was the landlady,
Enid Borden.
Some Pagan cards had been found.
- What the hell do you want?
- Police officers, ma'am.
About time you pencil dicks showed up.
Why couldn't you have gotten here
before that big, bad...
stupid-Iooking piece of sewage breath
stole my wedding dress?
Sewage breath would be
your nickname for...
Muzz. Emil Muzz.
Not much of an improvement.
That ass-wipe also stiffed me for two
months' rent when his cheque bounced.
Goddam puss-faced pimp stick.
All that was left in his room...
was a big box of these things.
Any idea where Emil Muzz could be now?
Friends? Family?
He was a Ioner.
Took off in the middle of the night.
Useless scum-lapping shitbag.
Just the facts, ma'am.
He leave anything else behind?
Yeah, a tape deck which I had to sell
to make up for the lost rent.
So there's nothing you can do about it,
you slimy little jizz bucket.
Yes, ma'am. Although you could be cited
for swearing at us.
Says who, flathead?
The California penal code 314.1
covering obscene conduct in public.
Good enough for you?
Them magazines and papers
were his down in the trash.
No cheques or money. I looked.
I should've thrown it in the river
the day he left...
but unlike some people,
I have a heart, goddam it!
That miserable bag of puke.
I think we're finished here,
don't you, Detective Streebek?
Didn't she say she threw
some of his stuff in the trash?
There it goes. Let's roll.
Am I glad I got transferred
into Robbery-Homicide!
You can almost reach out
and touch the tension.
What the hell was that?
It has its days.
Yeah. Like today.
Sitting in a park, getting eaten
by ducks, sifting through garbage.
Hello! Photographs of people.
Kinda faded.
- Maybe one of them's Muzz.
- We couldn't be that lucky.
Hey, phone number.
Think it means something?
There's only one way to find out,
isn't there?
It's for you. The president.
It's ringing.
- Good afternoon. Caesar residence.
- Bingo.
- Hello. May I help you?
- Emil Muzz, please.
- He's not here right now.
- This is Sergeant Friday, L.A.P.D.
Could you tell us where he is?
He's Mr Caesar's driver...
and Mr Caesar's sailing on his yacht.
That's it.
The limousine from the mansion.
Yeah, and Emil Muzz.
Let's check Enid Borden's description.
Well...
"Big, bad, stupid-Iooking."
An exact match.
Police officers. Emil Muzz?
We need to ask you
a few questions.
Blow it out your pants, cop.
Good, Muzz.
Give yourself a hard time.
I'll drive!
- What are you doing?
- Calling for backup.
- Why?
- There are regulations for pursuit.
- We're gonna follow every one of them.
- Forget it. This is our collar.
- Our collar, huh?
- I think so.
Let me tell you something,
Mr Lone Wolf.
The dedicated people of the Los Angeles
Police Department are one big family...
from my brother, the traffic cop,
to my sister, the metre maid.
And when one of us makes a collar,
we all make a collar.
Are you on any medication that as
your partner I should be made aware of?
I am requesting a backup...
Oh, no! Ahh!
Look out!
Look out! Muppets.
Reckless endangerment of human life,
wilful disregard of private property...
- He's really racking up the violations.
- Not him, you!
Your ticket back to civilian life, Mr
l-Like-To-Throw-The-Book-Out-The-Window.
That's a good idea.
Ever been to Hawaii?
Look out!
Surf's up, but not for you.
You'll be hanging 10 downtown.
Read him his rights.
Emil Muzz, guess what!
You are under arrest!
Sit down, unless you're growing!
We've got you on
'87 motre vehicle violations.
It's only time before we tie you in
to one of those Pagan jobs.
And you stole
your landlady's wedding dress...
which is the only endearing thing
about you, so talk to us.
Listen, you public pawn.
My attorney's on his way.
We both know I'll be out
on bail.
So take off these cuffs
and open the door!
I wouldn't worry about the door. Scum
who'd represent you would ooze under it.
Joe, why don't you go get
a couple cups of coffee?
I could use one.
You want anything?
Chewing gum, Snickers bar,
and my attorney, badge kisser!
Well, Emil.
It's just you...
and me...
and your balls...
and this drawer.
By the time I had returned with coffee,
Muzz was singing like Beverly Sills.
He had been planning to attend a meeting
that night at the Pagan clubhouse...
but he refused to divulge the time
or location of that meeting.
Muzz, let's run through it again.
You say you're a Pagan, but you work for
Jerry Caesar. That makes you a plant.
Make it easy on yourself.
Lead us to the stolen magazines.
Jump on this and spin, cop.
I'm not saying another word
until my attorney gets here!
Joe...
wouldn't a couple of Danishes
go good with this coffee?
At 7:13 p.m., Captain Gannon authorized
us to stake out Muzz's clubhouse...
Iocated in the ecologically-balanced
San Gabriel Mountains.
When a code-5 authorization for
undercover surveillance is approved...
officers proceed to the building
where the department has research...
on the precise behaviour and dress
of today's average street gang member.
Friday, I think we finally found
your look.
We were issued appropriate apparel
and withdrew from receiving...
one distressed
It's right up here, off highway 61!
Yeah. Probably some
rat-hole roadhouse...
where they watch TV
and suck beers all day.
Uh-oh. Highway patrol.
And they're pulling us over.
- Licence and registration.
- What was the offence?
- It's okay. They're Pagans.
- Yeah?
Yeah. Show 'em your card, Muzz, Emil.
Yeah, that's right. That's me.
Muzz, Emil. Emil Muzz.
I've been sick.
Sorry to bother you, fellas.
We can't be too careful, huh?
We don't want any non-Pagans
around here.
Especially tonight, right? Huh?
Follow us, fellas.
The party's just starting!
Bogus cops!
No matter how many times I see that,
it never ceases to disgust me.
People dressing up in strange clothes
pretending to be who they're not?
Exactly! That kind of behaviour...
Just get out that list
of stolen black and whites.
Oh, yeah, it's hot, all right.
Yeah.
Howdy. I'm Emil Muzz,
and I'm a Pagan.
Good evening, Pagans.
Don't forget your goat leggings.
Must be every other stolen
police vehicle on our hot sheet.
We're onto something here.
You think so?
- I see school is out.
- Yeah.
All I can think of is 38 kids standing
individually on Ionely corners...
waiting for a bus
that will never come.
Put your goat leggings on
and try to blend in.
- Put it to sleep.
- Down, boys.
You have to admire their techniques
in crowd control.
Yeah. Cosy little group.
Just like your local Rotarians.
Listen, we get a little wild
at times, sure...
but nothing like this.
I'd say this is shaping up to be a
little more than a series of robberies.
"People against goodness and normalcy."
P-A-G-A-N.
Pagan.
Nice work, Joe.
Ah, here are two who have not yet
sipped the nectar of Shaitan.
Small surprise before
the ceremony starts?
Why not?
- You?
- I had a big lunch.
I, your High Priest...
of living Pagan perfection...
do call the name Gathool!
Do call the name Gathool!
Eelbazel!
Ignodrohoth!
Shaitan!
Shaitan! Shaitan! Shaitan!
Prepare the virgin.
"Prepare the virgin."
I don't like the sound of that.
Let's just hope
they're not referring to you.
With this bat...
I do consecrate.
With this bat, he does consecrate.
- The Madagascar Bat from the zoo.
- Good eye.
With this lion's mane...
I do consecrate.
With this lion's mane,
he does consecrate.
All that's missing is one humongous,
For the final touch
to our brew tonight...
a pristine virgin
in a gown of white.
Evil bringeth here our plea.
She's as pure as she can be.
White and clean as driven snow.
From Orange County, here we go!
Two to one, that's Enid Borden's
wedding dress.
Twenty to one, Enid Borden never looked
that beautiful on her wedding day.
Virgin! Virgin!
Virgin! Virgin!
- Friday!
- Let's move!
Help!
Can you swim?
Red Cross. Junior Lifesaver
with clusters.
Silly me.
- Friday!
- Streebek?
I found the snake.
Help! Help!
- Help!
- Hang in there. I'm coming.
What goes on?
Who are those two clowns?
Who are you?
Friday, Streebek,
Los Angeles police officers.
- Where are you from?
- Anaheim.
Her favourite colour is blue.
Jesus Christ! I'm about to be eaten!
Some big guys grabbed me
off the street last night.
- Were you sexually assaulted?
- No, thank God. They needed a virgin.
You're still a virgin?
My hat's off to you, ma'am.
Hope you stay that way.
Streebek, quick! Do something.
It's constricting.
Distract it.
Anybody need boots?
Stop them!
Go!
Kill the good! Kill the good!
Kill the good! Kill the good!
Kill the good! Kill the good!
Kill the good! Kill the good!
Kill the good!
You are under arrest.
You can remain silent.
If you waive that right, anything you
say can and will be used against you.
For crying out loud!
How come his is so much bigger
than yours?
- Miss?
- The gun.
I've never needed more.
Come on, Joe!
Gosh! I'm terribly sorry!
Our car! We can steal it back.
Right.
I'll drive.
Forget it. We're responsible
for a civilian's safety.
And frankly, you don't belong
behind the wheel of a car.
Hang on and keep your head down.
Good driving!
Yes, you were wonderful.
Excuse me, miss.
I never did catch your name.
Swail. Connie Swail.
- Your name is Friday?
- Joe.
Joe.
Joe.
Pep.
Pep Streebek.
Glad to meet you.
You certainly have
a beautiful home, Miss Swail.
You bet. Can the Beaver
come out and play?
- Good night.
- Good night.
Will I ever see you again, Joe?
Absolutely.
You're our main witness.
We'd like you to come downtown,
take a look at the mug books...
see if you can make a positive I.D.
On the man you saw.
I'll have a policewoman come here
tonight, keep an eye on the house...
and bring you downtown
to Parker Center tomorrow.
Here's my card.
You'll be needed
for further questioning.
I don't know why, but...
somehow I feel
I could tell you anything, Joe.
Friday, January 9, 3:12 a.m.
We returned from Anaheim where we had
dropped off the virgin Connie Swail.
I telephoned Captain Gannon at home,
waking him.
After absorbing minutes
of gratuitous verbal abuse...
I requested him to meet us
as soon as possible at his office.
Come in.
- Evening, Captain.
- Captain.
We related the details of our successful
follow-up on the Pagan robberies...
and briefed Captain Gannon on the
outlandish festival we had attended...
even going so far
as to demonstrate the goat dance...
we had engaged in
as part of our undercover role.
This music was pulsating
over and over again.
Stop it!
At this point, Captain Gannon
became quite upset.
He accused us of being
on a drinking binge...
and based on our appearance, seemed
reluctant to contact the sheriff...
to investigate the area.
Captain, call the sheriff's department.
I have the directions to the compound.
Hay fever?
Illegal hallucinogenic love drugs.
The Pagans were taking them.
We tried to fit in.
If it weren't for the drugs, we couldn't
have gotten away from the snake.
The snake!
I forgot about the snake.
How big did you say it was again?
- 30 feet.
- 20 feet.
We'd like to have you come to the crime
scene and visually verify our report.
If you could call
Commissioner Kirkpatrick...
we believe this incident, because of its
magnitude, is worthy of her attention.
Do you have any idea
what time it is?
- Yes, sir.
- Don't ask him that, Captain.
- It's 4:27 a.m., sir.
- He lives for that. It's in his blood.
Thursday, January 8, 5:45 a.m.
Having gained Captain Gannon's grudging
agreement to contact the commissioner...
and proceed with us
to the San Gabriel Mountains...
we eventually arrived at the scene
of the previous night's debauchery.
What is this?
Some sort of juvenile cop humour?
And where the hell
is this supposed Pagan festival?
I can't understand it. There was a huge
screen with Pagan vision written on it.
Yeah! Yeah! This was the hole
that was filled with water.
We had to dive in to save the virgin
being eaten by the giant snake.
Who are these painted cretins?
- Two of my best men, ma'am.
- That's right. That's right.
They're heading up
the Pagan investigation.
They were heading up the investigation.
Now you may consider them off it.
- But, Commissioner?
- Gannon.
What am I going to tell the press?
That now we are investigating
invisible crimes on the word of two...
trick-or-treaters?
You are a civilian and probably unaware
the department's "regs"...
authorize us to wear specialized apparel
during a simulation surveillance.
- I assume you were once a civilian.
- Yes, ma'am.
If you do not drop that insubordinate
tone, you'll be one again soon.
Wait a minute, Friday.
I've never known you to act this way.
Certainly not the behaviour
your Uncle Joe would have approved of.
You know the kind of man he was.
I suggest you try to be
a little more like him from now on.
Yeah, sir. I'll try.
Good.
I'm sorry, Joe.
He's not in any of these.
And I'll never forget his face.
Okay. I guess this officially closes
my end of the investigation.
As far as your personal safety
is concerned, I wouldn't worry.
That guy's probably
sanitationally-questionable commune...
his apartment building in the "come
as you are" section of Venice Beach.
The door was opened
by Police Officer Betsy Blees...
who had dropped by to chat about more
effective methods of law enforcement.
They'd been playing a version
of good-cop, bad-cop.
Though I was unable to fathom the rules,
it seemed Streebek had lost this round.
Playtime was over...
and it was back to routine duty
for me and Pep Streebek.
Joe, I suddenly got very hungry.
Let's grab some sushi.
We're late for our watch already,
and raw tuna isn't my bag.
My hat was in that car.
- I can tell who reblocked it for you.
- Pagans.
I need coffee.
I know where they serve
the best in town. Come on.
Ma'am.
I hate to admit it, but for once in your
life you're right. This is good coffee.
You should try the French toast.
Joe, lend me 20 bucks.
Do I know you long enough
to lend you money? I don't think so.
We've been ordered off the Pagans...
but that doesn't mean we can't follow up
on one of their thefts.
The trichlornitromethane and
the pseudo-halogenic compound cyanogen.
There's one illegal lab in the city with
the capacity, personnel and equipment...
to mix those two chemicals
into a deadly gas.
Narcotics has been waiting for months to
bust this place. We can do it tonight.
Forget it.
It's out of our jurisdiction now.
But this won't be a Pagan investigation.
We can bring Narc in on it.
Police work is a matter of us
against them, not "Mother, may I?"
Hi, Kay. How are you? I could find out
where they set up the lab this week.
- Oh? How?
- By you lending me 20 bucks.
the gratuitous sex display...
at Streebek's favourite coffeehouse
and an outlay of $50 by me...
to one of his old informants,
I proceeded by Celebrity Cab...
to 3396834108th Street...
an illegal drug lab disguised
as a legitimate place of business.
Streebek had gone to seek assistance
from friends...
in the undercover narcotics unit
where he used to work.
It didn't surprise me
that he was late...
even though he knew I was waiting
in a part of town...
where it's not advisable
to stand around whistling.
Hey, zipper-head!
Up late tonight, kids?
Let's have one of your smokes.
It's an unhealthy habit
I don't encourage in others.
Get smart.
Give it up by not taking it up.
Thanks for
the public service announcement.
Hand over your money,
and I'll go buy my own smokes.
If you're that strapped for cash,
I'd suggest a part-time job.
How 'bout a paper route?
It builds character.
It did in my case.
Hey, we're not askin' you
for your money, Ozzie.
- No?
- No.
- Are you threatening me, son?
- Ooh!
And on a school night, too.
Hit the deck!
I can't quite place it.
It tastes like...
Milk.
Just like the sign said on the building
before you obliterated it.
Fresh, wholesome milk.
You probably love this stuff,
don't you?
Vitamin D, calcium...
essential for good strong bones
and healthy teeth.
But that's probably all Greek to you,
isn't it, Mr Gingivitis?
After explaining to the milk factory
they could not take legal action...
since we had properly obtained
a search warrant...
our apology was
reluctantly accepted...
and Streebek and I were on
our way back to Parker Center.
After losing two previous vehicles
we had been issued...
the only car the department would
release to us at this point...
was an unmarked 1987 Yugo...
a Yugoslavian import donated
as a test vehicle by that country...
and reflecting the cutting edge
of Serbo-Croatian technology.
I've been thinking.
Maybe your informant was right.
Maybe the Pagans anticipated our raid...
and mixed those chemicals
into a deadly gas before we got there.
Nuh-huh.
- Friday?
- That's me.
What do you like to do for fun?
I'm your partner, and
I don't even know where you live.
That's right, mister, you don't.
Streebek, why are you always looking
at your watch?
I'm watching my TV.
You don't like my music, you don't want
to talk, so I'm watching my TV.
We're at the Law and Order
Foundation dinner...
where Los Angeles mayor, Peter Parvin,
is fighting for his political survival.
Leading that attack again is
Police Commissioner Jane Kirkpatrick.
Let's hear what she has to say.
This rampaging gang of Pagans has made
a mockery of city administration.
Vehicles from the fire and police
departments are stolen in daylight.
Deadly toxic chemicals are on the loose.
What next, Mr Mayor?
In my opinion...
Mayor Parvin should consider
the welfare of his constituents...
and do the honourable thing:
Resign now.
You know, I think you and the
commissioner would make a cute couple.
You both keep your jaws locked.
Plus you two share
that curious affection for hats.
May I remind you that
Commissioner Kirkpatrick...
threatened to turn me
into a civilian?
Yeah, I know.
There was a gleam in her eye, though.
Put a clamp on it!
I have never been elected
to public office.
I have always sought the approval
of a somewhat higher power...
for my actions.
The sad truth...
is that we live here now
in a city...
where even a gross pornographer
like Jerry Caesar...
is not immune from lawlessness!
With this grim fact in mind...
I am relieved to announce tonight...
that even Mr Caesar himself
has bravely decided...
to strike a blow in our common fight
against crime!
Yes, sir! Yes, indeed!
This guy knows God personally.
I hear they play racquetball together.
Just chuckle away.
I don't hear God laughing.
You will once He sees your haircut.
My friends, in an unprecedented
gesture of atonement...
Mr Caesar has agreed
to donate the sum...
of $1 million
to my Moral Advance Movement.
After witnessing the raging political
turmoil on Streebek's puny TV...
I was really looking forward
to the end of a rotten day.
- Well, want to get something to eat?
- Not tonight. I have plans.
You do? What? What?
Where do you go? What is her name?
Does she have a sister?
Good night, Streebek.
Truth is, I don't care where you go.
Yeah, I do.
I gotta know.
I knew it.
It's Nightmare on Elm Street.
That would make him Freddie Krueger.
We're gonna be driving along some night
and the lighting's gonna be bad.
He's gonna mistake me for some
pretty coed, and out comes that claw.
Who knows what kind of thrill-seeking
hose monster he's got stashed in there?
My God, he's dating Mother Goose!
Hey, Joe!
Streebek, what are you doing here?
- Who is this nice-Iooking young man?
- He's nobody.
My partner.
Streebek, introduce yourself
to my grandmother, quickly.
Well, what a pleasant surprise.
Granny Friday.
She's my maternal grandmother.
Her name is Mundy.
Why don't we discuss this over dinner?
It's my birthday.
We're going to the Brown Derby.
Do join us, Detective Swayback.
- Streebek.
- Pep.
I don't think it's a good idea.
- Why not, Joe?
- Yeah, Joe, why not?
I've invited someone already
to join us, and you don't know her.
- Her?
- Her?
Joe! You have a date?
I'm so proud!
Well, it looks like
I have a date, too.
Granny Mundy, may I escort you
to Joe's car?
I'd be privileged,
Detective Startrek.
witnessing the satanic cult rally...
I escorted my grandmother to her
favourite restaurant, the Brown Derby.
There was someone I wanted her to meet,
and it wasn't Detective Streebek.
Sergeant Friday, your table is ready.
I took the liberty of pouring
the Dom Perignon.
What Dom Perignon?
I stopped and phoned in an order
in honour of Granny Mundy's birthday.
You'd want her to have
the most expensive kind, wouldn't you?
What a thoughtful gesture!
Don't you think so, Joe?
Yes, Granny.
It was very considerate of him.
Hello, Joe.
Guess I'm early.
I was kind of excited.
You sly minx!
I'd like you to meet my maternal
grandmother, Mrs. Grace Mundy.
Granny, this is
the virgin Connie Swail.
You're kidding?
Hi.
Well, allow me.
The place of honour for Granny.
- Thank you.
- Certainly.
And if I may, a toast.
To Granny Mundy.
May you live as long as you want
but never want as long as you live.
Hear! Hear!
Ahhh.
This is such a happy restaurant.
Commissioner Kirkpatrick,
how nice to see you again.
Reverend Whirley,
it's a privilege.
An aperitif, perhaps?
I once saw Alan Hale, Jr. In here.
Alan Hale, Jr! Wow!
"Gilligan, little buddy!"
Don't order anything more expensive than
the Cobb salad. That is an order.
Oh, my God!
- Connie?
- That's him.
That man with the collar.
The Reverend Whirley?
He's the one who kidnapped me
and threw me in that pit...
with that horrible snake.
I'll never forget his face
as long as I live.
You have to be sure about this.
How about very, very sure?
I'm positive, Joe.
That's him.
The face behind the mask.
The man who tried to kill me.
Would you testify to that under oath
in a court of law?
Wait a minute. Settle down.
Let's think about this.
That is Jonathan Whirley.
Head of the Moral Advance Movement
of America. He's a public hero.
- You can't just walk up to him...
- Streebek.
Vermin aren't allowed
inside restaurants.
I'll be enforcing
the public health code.
If you'll both excuse me...
I'm afraid
the second-highest duty calls.
Joe, he is sitting with the commissioner
and our captain.
Bust him now, tomorrow you'll
be mucking out stalls at Horse Patrol.
Thank you.
I am sorry.
Hold it there, Whirley. Police Officer.
You're under arrest.
I beg your pardon?
Is this some sort of feeble joke?
Oh, it's a knee-slapper, if you consider
Penal Codes 484207 A597 and 217...
theft, kidnapping, cruelty to animals,
attempted murder things to laugh about.
I don't know
what you're talking about.
My partner and I witnessed
that torchlight picnic you threw.
We're gonna put you where your kind
always ends up: In a 7-by-7 cage...
in some hundred-year-old penitentiary
with a wooden plank for a bed.
Sure, this city isn't perfect. We need
a smut-free life for all our citizens.
Cleaner streets, better schools,
a good hockey team.
But the difference between you and me is
you made the promise, I'm gonna keep it.
Our good reverend's an amazing
piece of work, isn't he, Jane?
- May I call you Jane?
- No.
Captain, Commissioner...
I demand an immediate explanation
for this outrageous behaviour.
It's him again.
Are you insane?
Reverend Whirley abducted that girl,
had his men throw her in a pit...
filled with polluted water
and a giant Bolivian jungle snake.
These accusations are preposterous!
I beg to differ. Ask him if he remembers
trichlornitromethane and the
pseudo-halogenic compound cyanogen...
which, when mixed properly,
form a liquid fertilizer that burns...
the throat, eyes, lungs, and nose,
and could cause vomiting and death.
We're just about to eat here!
Reverend Whirley, please accept
our most sincere apologies.
Sergeant, you will remove
those handcuffs immediately.
Then you will hand in your badge.
You are relieved from duty.
But... But...
But, Commissioner...
Now!
Yes, sir. Ma'am.
I don't care.
I'm absolutely humiliated.
I know the young man was overzealous,
but he springs from a great tradition.
Commissioner, won't you please
change your mind?
I'm afraid I'll have to take
your badge and gun.
- If we could just please...
- I don't want to discuss it!
Just hand them over.
Look, Joe, don't worry. I'm still
on active duty. I'm building a case.
You're building nothin'.
If I ever hear you've come
within one mile of Reverend Whirley...
I'll have your badge for breakfast!
- Understood?
- Yes, sir.
It was very nice of you to try
and take us out to dinner, Joe.
Yeah. Thanks, Joe, for everything.
Let's not stand around here moping.
I'm hungry! Let's go for chili dogs.
Granny, have you ever eaten a chili dog
off the back of a motorcycle?
Not till now.
You smooth-talking son of a gun.
- Thank you.
- You're welcome.
I'm very sorry
you lost your job, Joe.
I really did have
a very good time.
I'm glad, Connie.
Now, fasten your seat belt.
I can still effect a citizen's arrest.
I don't want to ruin a wonderful evening
by bringing you in on a misdemeanour.
That was a joke.
Oh.
Oh, Joe!
Look at the stars!
Dozens of them.
You know, when I was a little girl...
I used to wish upon
a different star every night...
for that special someone to come along.
Someone with whom
I could share...
everything.
I guess that's not so unusual.
All girls do that, don't they, Joe?
Some guys do, too, Connie.
- Joe?
- That's me.
Was there ever...
anyone else?
Of course there was.
Oh.
Actually, I've only been driving
with Streebek a couple of days.
- Before that I was with Frank.
- That's not what I meant.
Goodness! Earthquake! It's the big one!
Joe, help!
Request Code 3.
Officer in distress.
Assist officer.
I'll handle this. Calm down.
January 9, 8:37 a.m.
My name's Streebek.
I'm a cop.
I overslept.
Curiously enough, I still hadn't heard
from my anal-retentive ex-partner...
although I was sure he'd be proud to
know I was making a concerted effort...
to personally develop
a close relationship...
with one of my sisters
in the Los Angeles Police Department.
I placed a call
to the virgin Connie Swail...
but according to the girl's mother,
she hadn't come home either.
I don't know what to say, Mrs. Swail.
I'm beginning to be concerned myself.
No, Joe Friday has never
stayed out all night, either.
The day he was born,
his mother had him home by 9:00.
Well, let's both stay in touch
in case we hear from them.
Thank you, Mrs. Swail.
Oh, my goodness.
I'm gonna be late for my stake-out.
As enchanting as Robin was...
I still couldn't get my mind off
what happened to Joe Friday.
For one misguided moment...
I actually pictured my ex-partner
introducing that little cupcake...
to the one piece of equipment that
wasn't issued to him by the department.
But then I realized Joe would never
spring for the price of a motel room.
And since having sex in a Yugo
was a logistical impossibility...
I came to the conclusion
that something must be wrong.
Who cares?
Listen to me, Captain.
Joe Friday was the most dedicated cop
in this city.
Okay, so maybe all his dogs
aren't attached to one leash.
He's thickheaded, insensitive
and reactionary.
And generally less fun to be around
than any person I've ever met.
Still, he was my partner.
You want to find Joe Friday?
My advice is to start checking out
the sanitariums.
- Hey, Pep.
- What's shaking?
- Hey, you!
- Me, Pep?
Detective Streebek to you.
Let's get this mop trimmed.
Stop shaving with a pocketknife,
and next time you eat your lunch...
put it in your stomach,
not on your uniform.
You're a disgrace to this department
and that badge.
You're late, Jerry.
I saw your announcement about my
so-called million-dollar contribution.
Do yourself a favour, friend.
Try the lottery.
The lottery I can fix.
Our problem is Mayor Parvin.
I'm afraid he is not
"going gentle into that good night."
Say what?
That he is not responding
to our pressure to resign.
We're gonna have to push him
over the edge.
Your million-dollar contribution
will insure his presence at your party.
Just make sure he turns into
a drug-crazed idiot, with pictures.
Once he's politically dead,
Commissioner Kirkpatrick...
will be a shoo-in to replace him
in the next election.
You and I will split control
of the city.
You will monopolize all pornography.
Half the poor dumb sheep in Los Angeles
will be forking over money...
to buy your sleaze...
while the other half will be funding me
with the means to fight it.
Reverend...
you got balls as big as church bells.
Thank you.
Jonathan, I do not trust that man.
Thank goodness he trusts me.
That socially-retarded hedonist...
actually believes he's going
to be alive tomorrow.
Where's Joe Friday?
It's no use.
These knots are too tight.
Untie the girl.
She's coming with me.
You hypocrite. If you were decent,
you'd let her go and kill me instead.
Instead?
But, my dear Sergeant Friday,
I'd always planned on killing you.
How do you see yourself
going down in history?
Pagan or reverend,
devil or angel?
Why, both, of course.
One can't exist without the other.
Without the Jerry Caesars,
there'd be no moral outrage.
What's the good of moral outrage...
unless you have something tangible
to direct it against?
By this time tomorrow,
thanks to that poison gas...
you've been tracking
like some flu-ridden bloodhound...
Mr Caesar will be sitting
in that big Jacuzzi in the sky...
and I'll control both sides
of the equation.
Sure, but like every other psycho
in this city with a foolproof plan...
you've forgotten you're facing the
finest fighting force ever assembled.
The Israelis?
Try the decent, hardworking
men and women of Los Angeles.
Forgotten about them?
My dear Sergeant...
I'm absolutely counting on them.
Joe.
Joe?
You may have taken a wrong turn,
but there's time to straighten out.
You're the one that's gonna
straighten out, cop...
all the way down the mountain.
Let's go, Streebek.
Just relax and hold on tight.
Tighter!
Pretend I'm Connie. Ooh!
Look out! Look out!
There's no road here.
No road. Look out!
Look, there's the mayor.
Pretty clever of Whirley manoeuvring
him up here to Caesar's party.
He's got both people
he wants to eliminate in one place.
Hey, isn't that Whirley's car?
Good evening, Reverend.
Child.
I don't see Connie.
- The next car comes, follow me in.
- Wait. You can't go in there.
- When did you become Miss Manners?
- First, you don't have a warrant.
Penal Code 836: A police officer
may make an arrest without a warrant...
if he believes there's probable cause...
You're not a police officer any more.
I hate to be the one to break
that to you, but it's the truth.
You charge in there now,
you'll never get your badge back.
Whirley's the only one
that knows where Connie is.
He'll tell or I'll shove that collar
so far down his throat...
I'll have to take off his shoes
to wring his neck.
You're not thinking like a cop any more.
You're thinking like a man in love.
Watch your language, mister!
Oh, Joe, l...
You've never had these feelings before,
have you?
Almost.
I had a kitten once.
This is gonna be a little different.
Connie won't be sleeping in a box...
or meowing all night
or climbing up your drapes.
Or maybe she will. You both are sort of
starting from scratch with this thing.
Get out of my way!
Last time you went after Whirley, you
got suspended. Now you'll get arrested.
- On what charge, Junior?
- How about Section 146-A?
That's right.
Impersonating a police officer.
It's for your own good, Joe.
In spite of every logical instinct
I've ever had...
I consider you a real friend.
- Wait.
- Joe, go home.
There's nothing more you can do here.
Believe me.
By the way, my name is Pep.
It's not mister, junior,
bub or Streebek. It's Pep.
Friendships start with first names...
Joe.
Thank you so much for comin'.
Your Honour, pleased you could make it.
You, too, Reverend.
Let's just drop the fake civility.
Okay, Caesar?
- You have a cheque for the Reverend.
- I do, all in due time.
If it would make us all feel better...
why don't I hold on to it
until the formal presentation?
Well, whatever.
You're just in time. We're about
to start our cultural talent show.
Why don't you pull up a pew next to me?
Reverend, I'm sure you'll find
these gals socially redeemin'.
Me me me me
Me me me
Me me me
Me me me me me me
Oh, say can you see
By the dawn's early light
How do you like those sweet pipes,
Reverend?
Surprised?
Oh, yes.
Indeed.
I have a feeling this evening
is going to be full of surprises.
Through the perilous fight
Thunderhead to Cloud 9.
Do you read me?
Our hoses are in place.
Start the gas when ready.
Cloud 9 to Thunderhead.
We're startin' the gas.
- Hi. Just need to use the phone.
- Who the hell...
The White Pages, my favourite. You ever
actually reach out and touch someone?
See if you can get a line
on the man they work with.
I'll be hitting Route 30.
Keep me posted.
- Hello.
- L.A.P.D. Captain Gannon there?
- Yes, he is. It's work, dear.
- Thank you.
Thank you, Delilah. Hello.
- Captain Gannon, this is Streebek.
I'm up at the Caesar mansion.
- Streebek?
I'm surrounded by Pagans. Call out
S.W.A.T. They've got a small army here.
- Reverend?
- I'll be leaving you in charge, Emil.
I'll be joining a special passenger...
aboard my jet for a few
restful days in Acapulco.
Don't forget to leave a Pagan card...
so the police and Mr Caesar's
next of kin...
will give us proper credit
for returning his magazines.
Oh, and, Emil...
ever forward.
Police officers! Clear the road.
"Police officers.
Clear the road."
- Move it!
- Go! Go! Go! Go!
What the... Cops! Break out the weapons!
Break out the masks!
We're pinned down.
Hold your positions!
All right, boys, let's do it!
Thank God, it's Friday!
Hey, everybody, it's me, Pep.
Good to see ya!
So long, hotshot.
Muzz, you weren't even born
with the sense God gave the common dog.
Don't you realize that's my partner?
Ha-ha!
Thanks, partner.
Read him his rights, Pep.
"Pep"?
You hear that, Emil?
He called me Pep.
You have the right to remain silent.
If you give up the right
to remain silent...
You know these words.
Come on. Sing along.
Anything you say can be used
against you in a court of law
You got a lifetime subscription
to Bait, Dollies and Field and Cream.
You saved my house, my gals, my life.
I'll give you anything you want.
Money, broads, automobiles.
Anything! Just name it.
How 'bout takin'
your hands off my suit?
Absolutely.
Joe, Jerry, Dona! Ava!
Whirley's headed to Mexico
in his private jet.
He's got Connie. Let's move it.
- Who's Connie?
- I don't know.
- Wasn't she...
- Never mind. You hungry?
- Yeah.
- Let's eat.
Friday, Streebek, good work.
I'll expect a full report.
Sure thing. If you'll excuse us,
we have a fugitive to apprehend.
Wait a minute. I can't let you take
a civilian with you on a hot pursuit.
- But, Captain, please.
- Sorry, Joe.
You're gonna need this.
I didn't have the heart to turn it in.
Yes, sir.
Don't just stand there, you petrified
monolith of legal propriety!
Let's move! I'll drive.
You seem to be suffering
from selective amnesia.
I outrank you. I'll drive.
Be careful. This is a dangerous road.
When are you worried about my driving,
Mr l-Like-Life-In-The-Fast-Lane?
- You just flew through a stop sign!
- It felt good.
Look out for that bump!
Don't you remember those films
they showed us in high school?
- Red Asphalt. Blood on the Highway.
- You picked two of my favourites.
Jonathan.
I just heard on the police radio
they've stormed the mansion.
They know everything. It's all over.
We're finished.
Oh. The girl's aboard, of course?
Yes, but we might as well let her go.
There's no point in keeping her.
You're absolutely right.
Watch for the police.
I'll untie her.
Be calm.
Calm. Police.
Jonathan?
All buckled up? Good.
You freak!
- Ah! Freak.
- Don't worry, my dear.
You'll get used to me in time.
Jonathan, I think maybe...
Oh, my God!
Jonathan!
Oh, my God! Jonathan!
Jonathan!
Come on, Joe. Slow down!
What happened to those regulations
on high-speed pursuits?
- I thought you were safety-conscious.
- Close your eyes and think of Christmas.
Think of Christmas?
Good King Wenceslaus looked out
on the feast of Stephen
And the snow lay round about
Deep and crisp and even
Brightly shone the moon that night
though the frost was cruel
When the poor man came in sight...
Try "Silent Night."
- He's gone. Let's go home.
- No, the runway.
We lost them.
I have eyes.
Streebek was right.
We had lost them.
Hi, Connie.
Oh, Joe! I'm so proud.
What a collar, Joe!
I'm so happy for us. Connie.
Streebek, isn't there anything
job-related you should be doing now?
No, nothing.
I could return our rent-a-wreck...
and maybe file a report.
Good...
because I have a whole lifetime
to catch up on.
On February 21, a trial was held
in Superior Court...
in and for the County of Los Angeles.
The Reverend Jonathan Whirley
was found guilty...
on two counts of attempted murder...
kidnapping, arson,
obstruction of justice...
and tampering
with public utilities.
He is presently in the men's
correction facility at Chino...
serving 43 consecutive
which makes him eligible for parole
in seven years.
Monday, January 12, 8:43 a.m.
As for Streebek and me, we're back
on day watch at Robbery-Homicide...
where he still exhibits a blatant
disregard for departmental procedure.
But I am somehow managing to keep this
in its proper perspective.
Goodbye, Pep.
Will you be coming over later?
Yeah, I have to.
I'm wearing your underwear.
Late night last night, partner?
I thought the Christian Science
Reading Room closed at 10:00?
Not that it's any of your business,
Mr National Enquirer...
but I had the pleasure of spending the
evening in the company of Connie Swail.
Wait a minute. Connie Swail?
Don't you mean
the virgin Connie Swail?
This is the city.
It's a city of crime.
My name is Friday.
I carry a badge.
It was chilly that morning
in the City of Angels.
On this occasion, we witnessed
a Pagan ritual in progress.
See that, Streebek
We're just in time
We have stumbled
into a major crime
They got the girl all frightened
Now that's not nice
I think she is the subject
of a sacrifice
Buddy, we're puttin'
this party on ice
But first you know we really
oughta read 'em their rights
Read 'em their rights
Read 'em their rights
Well, I'm here tonight
to rap about your rights
'Cause right now you're in trouble
Don't have to say nothin' at all
You all got two calls
And you better make 'em
on the double
This is the city of crime
Don't step outta line
This is the city of crime
You better be clean
You're a dangerous mob
And it is our job
To bust you all
for being violent
While we are here
let's state it clear
You have the right to remain silent
Well, excuse me, Copper
Mr Crime-Stopper
What is wrong
with what we're doin'
We just like to dance
in our goatskin pants
Around this ancient ruin
Now it's not so funny
that it cost big money
If you ever have to hire a lawyer
It's my duty to inform you
and my pleasure to warn you
We'll provide one for ya
Huh!
This is the city of crime
Don't step outta line
This is the city of crime
You're lookin' at 7 to 9
Now you know what you've been doing
is a serious crime
And you'll probably be doin'
some serious time
In case you might be worried
about the friends you'll lose
At least they get to see you
on the evening news
It's a new sensation
We go down to the station
You're gonna answer some questions
And have some refreshments
What is your full name?
Well, excuse me
Excuse me
Don't use, abuse or refuse me
It's no joke
I'm broke
But my rights I can and will invoke
I'm homely and I'm Ionely
But the state cannot disown me
It ain't funny
I might want money
To take home to my honey
This is the city of crime
Don't step outta line
This is the city of crime
Where an honest man is hard to find