A Dime To Kill

Scene – Rain is pouring down on THE CITY during the twilight hours.  Make no mistake, THE CITY is an almost tangible character is this piece, one with its own arc, feelings, and needs.  It is mysterious, with residents of all shapes, sizes, and colors – some good citizens, some not-so-good.  Also, like all cities, THE CITY has a sewer system and some street lights and tall buildings.  THE CITY speaks to the audience, its voice overlaid with a cacophony of car horns, crowd noise, and dog barking.

THE CITY:  Why hello there!  How are you doing?  Me?  I’m okay, I guess.  Getting older… I’ve seen a lot, but I should tell you that today was strange, even for me.  I mean, there are days and there are days, you know?  Take it from me; I’m a city.  I’ve lived them all.  Yes, I’ve certainly seen my share of excitement, as you scum crawl through me and dirty up my streets, but today, a course of events happened that I’d like to share with you.  It all started with DYLAN FEATHERS, an unlikely hero.  Watch, will you, as I share my story….

A taxi in THE CITY splashes through a puddle, stopping suddenly in front of a run-down convenience store.  DYLAN FEATHERS steps out.  He is tall and thin and wearing a brown trench coat with a matching fedora. He holds his hat to his head as he rushes through the rain and into the convenience store. The store is empty, save for a CASHIER in his late twenties. Dylan heads straight towards him.

DYLAN:  I need to speak to Marco.

CASHIER:  No can do, buddy.  Sorry.  He left for the day.  He might be in tomorrow though.

Annoyed, DYLAN pushes past the CASHIER and walks into the back room.  He sees MARCO sitting on a faded brown couch.  MARCO is wearing a stained wife beater and crouched over a coffee table with a rolled up dollar bill. MARCO looks up and sees DYLAN.

MARCO:  Hey!  Dylan!  I was just about to call you!  I was!

DYLAN:  That’s great, Marco. You must have my money then.

MARCO:  Well, about that… 

DYLAN:  Don’t you do this to me, Marco.  I said two weeks. You think I’m just some punk who is asking you? Because I am fucking telling you --

MARCO:  No!  I mean I’ve got it - it’s here!  It’s just…it’s not exactly like you asked.

Sweating and jittering, MARCO gets up, heads to a safe, and begins to unlock it.  DYLAN takes out his holstered revolver and points it at MARCO.

DYLAN:  Don’t pull any shit, Marco.  I’m warning you.

MARCO:  Easy, Dylan!  I won’t!  I swear it! We had a deal! 

MARCO opens the safe and pulls out four stacks of 100 dollar bills.  DYLAN closes his eyes and shakes his head.

DYLAN:  This isn’t what we agreed upon, Marco.  I’m disappointed.

MARCO:  I know - I know it isn’t.  But it’s more!  It’s an extra two thousand dollars!  I mean…money’s money, right?  Count it!  It’s yours!

DYLAN: I said “dimes.” I was very clear.

MARCO:  I know you did, but…it just…it sounded like a joke, you know?  I mean, who wants $20,000 in dimes?  Nobody, right? 

DYLAN:  I wasn’t joking, Marco.

MARCO:  But you can’t just go to a bank and ask for 200,000 dimes, Dylan!  You’ve got to know that!

DYLAN:  That wasn’t my problem, Marco.  That was your problem.  But now you’ve made it mine.

With an annoyed look, DYLAN shoots MARCO in the head and picks up the money.  The CASHIER rushes in to see what happened.  Sighing, DYLAN shoots the CASHIER in the head too. He then leaves the convenience store and hails another cab.

THE CITY: *wink*

CUT TO the darkened interior of Dylan’s apartment.  The door opens, silhouetting DYLAN for a moment before he steps inside.  He flips on the light and we see barrels and crates scattered throughout the apartment, each filled to the brim with dimes.  DYLAN, still wet and ruffled from the rain, walks over to his kitchen counter.  He sorts his mail, quickly tossing aside the junk mail and focusing on the items he’d been waiting for.  He tears through each one rapidly - the envelopes all contain dimes he’s purchased or ordered.  He gives each a quick glance before swiping them off his counter in frustration.  There is an unexpected knock at the door, and DYLAN looks up sharply.  Carefully, he walks to the side of the door and pulls out his revolver.

DYLAN:  Yes?  Who is it?

A deep voice with an Eastern European accent speaks through the door:

MR. POE:  Hello, Mr. Feathers.  My name is Mr. Poe and I would like the chance to speak with you.  I believe we have a mutual interest.

DYLAN:  Sorry, buddy. You’re going to have to speak more plainly than that.

MR. POE:  The dimes, Mr. Feathers.  I’m here about the dimes.  Now please - open the door.  We have much to discuss.

DYLAN (to himself):  Fuck!

DYLAN opens the door and MR. POE walks in calmly.  He is tall, appears well-groomed, and has a dark, pointy beak. DYLAN ushers him to the couch with his revolver and Mr. Poe sits down, unconcerned with the fact that revolver is pointed at him.

MR. POE:  So nice to meet you at last, Mr. Feathers.  I’ve been hearing some very interesting things about you.

DYLAN: Right.  You mysteriously know all about me.  Now tell me what you want or get the fuck out of my house.

MR. POE:  Aha!  As promised:  a man of action!  Very well, I’ll get right to the point.  Where to begin…how about I start with dimes?

DYLAN:  Perfect.

MR. POE:  Yes.  The dimes…the dimes.  While we don’t have information on earlier years, in 1890 the US minted over 11 million, 300 thousand dimes.  That’s certainly a lot of dimes, Mr. Feathers, but that was 125 years ago.  They’ve minted millions – often billions – of dimes every year since, and in 2014 they minted over 2 billion, 300 million dimes.  What you have here, in your apartment (MR. POE gestures absently to the barrels and barrels of dimes), while impressive to the outside observer, is a grain of sand on a beach.   It is an exercise in futility.   

DYLAN:  Mmm hmmm.

MR. POE:  You doubt me?

DYLAN: If what I’m doing is so futile, then why are you even here?  Why would you bother if it’s as hopeless as you say?

MR. POE:  Ah, a more astute question than I gave you credit for, Mr. Feathers!  Yes, why would I be here if I honestly doubted that you will never find the dime we both seek?  I’ll answer your question with a question of my own. Why would you continue to search for the dime when you know full well you would need to be the luckiest duck alive to find it?

DYLAN:  …

MR. POE:  Yes.  That is why I’m here.  Because while you haven’t found the dime, you did manage to find something else that my employer seeks.  And we’re prepared to pay you handsomely for it, Mr. Feathers  - pay you enough so that you never need work again. 

DYLAN:  I don’t even know what you’re talking about.

MR. POE:  Oh, we both know that isn’t true.  But I can state it bluntly if you wish. I’m talking about Gladstone Gander, the luckiest duck that ever lived.  We know you have him.  And with the luck he carries, anything is possible.  Even finding Scrooge’s Number One 1875 US Dime.

DYLAN: But…I told no one…I was so careful.

MR. POE:  Of course you were.  But you can’t keep secrets from us, Mr. Feathers.  Try as you might. For example, I know you ate pancakes yesterday.

DYLAN:  Well I don’t know how you found out about him, but he’s not for sale!

MR. POE:  Oh yes he is. Yes, he most certainly is.  It will be much smoother for you this way.  Smarter.  Safer. The woman I work for -

DYLAN (interrupting and lifting his revolver):  The woman you work for isn’t my mommy, Mr. Poe, so I don’t have to do what she says.  Don’t you threaten me, you fuck.  I don’t need smoother, smarter, or safer.  I’ve got Gladstone Gander, remember?

Mr. Poe, looking mildly startled, stands and begins chanting under his breath. An unseen force immediately pulls the revolver from Dylan’s hand and sends it crashing into the refrigerator. Starting to panic, Dylan runs to his room.  Swearing under his breath, he grabs a rosewood box from underneath his bed and then immediately dashes back to his living room.  He arrives just in time to watch the room burst into flames.  Mr. Poe, untouched by the fire, begins walking towards Dylan as he starts chanting again.

DYLAN:  Duck, duck, dead, mother fucker!

Dylan tears open the rosewood box, revealing the decomposing severed head of Gladstone Gander. It truly looks lucky.  Mr. Poe’s eyes widen with fear, but he continues chanting and walking towards Dylan.  But, as he does, he steps on a roll of dimes that had been left on the ground.  He tries to maintain his balance while waving his arms frantically.

MR. POE:  Whoah-whoah-whoah!!!

Mr. Poe fails at balance, whooshing into the air and crying out as he does so.

MR. POE:  My perfect balaaaaaance!!!

Mr. Poe slams the back of his head into the table, which flips it up into the air.  It comes down right on his neck, and while he is not decapitated, he is FOR SURE almost decapitated, as his head kind of flops around on his neck like a phone receiver off its blood-spurting hook.

THE CITY:  Ooch!  As a city without a head, I can only empathize! And to think: all of this happened over the search of one measly dime!  But then, if you think about it, a dime that is measly to one person could be invaluable to another!  Why, if everyone here in the theater donated just one dime to me, THE CITY, why, it sure would go a long way to fixing things up.  Image a city with better roads, better jobs, and better schools, a city determined to better itself?  Just one dime a week, and you’d help pay the salary of maybe Paul Rickerson, who helps make sure your water’s clean.  Or Jan Meyers, who helps make sure the buses run on time.  So help us, won’t you?  Donate your dimes for a better tomorrow.

THURSDAY

THE CITY: The dime is mine, Feathers!  I swear by my God-damned roads, jobs, and schools, that you will never, ever lay one fucking wing Uncle Scrooge’s dime!  Not before I’m a smoldering heap of rubble and ruin!

DYLAN:  I wish it didn’t have to be this way, THE CITY, but it sure seem like it do.

Goonies II

Scene: Astoria

(A thirty-seven year old man whips his head to the camera. His eyes are wide and frightened. Wordlessly, he takes a puff from his inhaler.)

Mikey: Run for it!

(The camera pulls back to reveal a group of 7 other people. They turn to see what Mikey is looking at, and then they too start screaming and running from the unseen menace)

Brand: Why does this always happen, with you, Mikey!!

Mikey: Everybody! Over here! I found a cave!

(the group follows Mikey into the dark cave, and we see Jake Fratelli Jr. hurry by the the cave. He's holding a Tommy Gun and is followed by 3 other mobsters.)

Mouth: It's too dark to see. I don't suppose any of you jerk-offs got a flashlight?

Data: I have flashlight! Look! Look! New invention! (A flashlight springs from a mechanism in Data's chest) Look! We see now! I save day with flashlight!

Stef: Wow. Who knew you'd come in useful.

Mikey: Um…guys?-

Data: Hey! I come in useful all the time! All the time! You just jealous of my inventions!

Mikey: Guys?

Chunk: What is it, Mikey?

Mikey: Shine the light over here!

(Data shines the light towards Mikey's voice and reveals a skeleton clutching a map)

All: Scream!

Mikey: (puffs his inhaler) What's this it's holding! It looks like a map!

(Mikey pulls the map from the skeleton's hands)

Mikey: Um…guys? Remember 22 years ago?

Andy: When we saved our parents houses with pirate treasure? And the pirate ship sailed off to sea? What about it?

Mikey: (puffs inhaler) Well… I think One-Eyed Willie left us a present. Look!

(The group hovers over the map with Data's flashlight shining on it. It's the treasure map of Two-Eyed-Jimmie, Willie's tougher, more sinister, richer pirate brother.)

Sloth: Rocky…ROAD?

Chunk: You're right, Sloth. I'm sure finding this treasure will be a rocky road.

Mikey: But we gotta do it, right guys? We're Goonies! Once a Goonie, always a Goonie! Goonie's never say "die!"

Brand: Goonies? That was 22 years ago, Mikey. Come on. Finding this treasure would be far too dangerous.

Mikey: We're Goonies, Brad. We'll always be Goonies. And maybe our houses aren't in danger… this time. But in this cave it's OUR time. It's OUR time in here. And right now maybe we're all successful adults, but we're not rich. None of us are rich. And wouldn't you like to be rich, Mouth?

Mouth: Yeah, I could get that car.

Mikey: Wouldn't you like to be rich, Andy?

Andy: Yeah, I could get that necklace.

Mikey: And wouldn't you like to be rich, Sloth?

Sloth: SLOTH!

Mikey: 22 years ago, we let One-Eyed-Willie keep his gold. Now, he's repaying us! Don't you see that? He's led us to his brother's treasure map. And I know it won't be easy, guys. But we're Goonies. We've been through this before. We've already proven ourselves worthy. I want to be rich. I want us all to be rich. (puffs inhaler) Now who's with me?

All: I'm!

Chunk: But Jake Fratelli Jr. and his mobsters are after us! We're gonna have to find the treasure with them right on our tails.

Stef: Just like old times.

Mouth: You were kissing me in old times. You want to do that again?

Stef: Ugh. Don't make me barf, Mouth.


Thursday:

Chunk: Mikey? You've been a Fratelli brother this whole time?

Mikey: Of course. How do you think Jake Fratelli Jr. found you jerk-offs in the first place? I've been spying on you for 22 years, biding my time and waiting for the perfect opportunity. Now put the gun down or I shoot the Sloth. (puffs inhaler)


Later:

Data: I wish I could invent something to save you, Chunk

Chunk: (coughs blood) I wish that too, old friend.

Sloth: CHUNK!!!

It's All Relativity

Scene: A cemetery at night

(It is pouring rain. The camera searches the cemetery and finally zooms to a tombstone that is shaped like the theory of relativity. Etched into the tombstone are the words “Here lies Albert Einstein: Genius and inventor of the formula that helped invent atomic bombs.” Sad music is playing but suddenly Einstein’s tomb is struck by lightning. We hear a rumbling in the ground. The music starts to get scary. Tuffs of Einstein’s trademark hair start to peak out from the ground. FrankEinstein, reanimated, rises from his grave.)

Gravedigger: Einstein? No! It can’t be! You’re dead!

FrankEinstein: You’re right! I was dead. But now I’m alive! ALIVE!!

Gravedigger: Oh my god! Nobody is gonna believe this. It’s so unreal!

(FrankEinstein lumbers away, arms outstretched)

Gravedigger: Man, I’ve got to call Ollie about this!

(Gravedigger gets out his cell phone and calls Ollie.)

Gravedigger: Ollie! It’s me! Yeah…yeah I know what time it is! But you’re not gonna believe what just happened! Lightning just struck Einstein’s grave and he…..well let me finish! Lightning struck Einstein’s grave and he rose from the dead! ….You shutup! I am being serious! He rose from the dead and then just walked on out of here….No, I didn’t follow him! It was creepy as hell! Oh, and hey Ollie? This is unrelated, but Veronica kicked me out this morning and I kinda need a place to crash tonight. Would it be okay if I slept on your couch? Just for a couple of nights. I promise….Thanks, man.

(The gravedigger washes up, gets in his car and drives towards Ollie’s house. He slowly drives by the science laboratory and we see that it has been broken into)

Gravedigger: Oh man! FrankEinstein must have really missed science!

(One of the lights in the science laboratory turns on and high up in the window, we see FrankEinstein slowly wave to the gravedigger as he drives out of sight)

Gravedigger: (to himself) I feel kinda bad for that dude. There’s no way that science laboratory didn’t have an alarm. Shoot. The cops are gonna come. I mean, who wants to rise from the dead just to go to jail?

(Sirens race past the gravedigger, obviously headed toward the science laboratory.)

Gravedigger: Oh man. I knew it.

(The gravedigger turns his car around and goes to the science laboratory. He arrives in time to witnesses FrankEinstein get handcuffed and rather forcefully be put into a squad car. The police car drives away and FrankEinstein stares woefully on at the gravedigger through his rear window.)

Gravedigger: (to himself) Poor guy. He just wanted to keep learning… I wonder what’s going to happen to him. Shoot. I better get on over to Ollie’s. I’m beat!

(The gravedigger arrives at Ollie’s house and falls asleep on his couch. When he wakes up it is 2:00 in the afternoon.)

Gravedigger: Time for my soaps!

(the gravedigger turns on the television and finds that his favorite soap opera is being preempted with news. The news about FrankEinstein’s arrest!)

Gravedigger: Dude!

(the camera watches the gravedigger watch television on Ollie’s couch)

TV Anchorperson: If you’re just tuning in, Einstein rose from the dead last night and broke into a science laboratory. This FrankEinstein was then arrested, and is currently being charged not only for breaking and entering, but also for war crimes because he was pretty much responsible for the atomic bomb. And while one can argue about whether or not the bombs should have been dropped, one simply can not argue that the decision wouldn’t have needed to have been made if Einstein didn’t figure out the bomb thing in the first place.

Gravedigger: Give me a break, dude! You’re making him like, the scapegoat for something that happened 60 years ago!

TV Anchorperson: We go now live to the trial.

TV Judge: How do you plead, FrankEinstein?

FrankEinstein: Not guilty, your honor.

(The people within the courtroom gasp and then start booing)

TV Judge: Let’s just begin the trial now. I hear you’re representing yourself, FrankEinstein?

FrankEinstein: I am.

TV Judge: I would advise against that. You may wish to utilize the experience of a lawyer.

FrankEinstein: With all due respect your honor, I am the smartest person in the world.

TV Judge: Agreed.

FrankEinstein: If I think I can represent myself, maybe you should respect that.

Gravedigger: (watching TV from Ollie’s home) That’s right, FrankEinstein! You tell that jerk!

TV Judge: Duly noted. Shall we begin?

TV Prosecuting Attorney: Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, it is because of the accused, Mr. Albert FrankEinstein, that many, many people died. His brain made it possible to make atomic bombs. These weapons have proved devastating not only in regards to human loss, but also in the tensions their mere existence has put on countries. i.e. America and the Soviet Union.

Gravedigger: This trial is crazy. I wonder if Ollie has any tuna fish.

(the gravedigger gets off the couch and finds some canned tuna. He continues to watch television as he makes himself a sandwich)

FrankEinstein: Members of the jury, I just rose from the grave last night. Imagine how excited I was. I was in the future! There was so much for me to discover! Imagine my surprise when I found out it was all bullshit because seriously, you’re trying me for a crime that didn’t break any laws.

(Gravedigger eats his sandwich and nods along to the TV as FrankEinstein talks.)

FrankEinstein: Look. I’m alive. I’ve risen from the dead and it’s strange but here I am. And yes, maybe I shouldn’t have broken into the science laboratory. That was my fault. That was my mistake. But I was just so interested to see what people have discovered since I died! My heart has always been with science, and I hope you can empathize with my curiosity.

Gravedigger: (to himself) I should do something for Ollie, since he’s putting me up. Maybe buy him groceries or pizza or something.

(The gravedigger continues watching TV)

FrankEinstein: Am I really to be tried for war crimes just because I’m so smart that I’m responsible for the atomic bomb? Please, people. Please. I didn’t drop the bomb.

TV Prosecuting Attorney: Well you’re at least an accessory!

Thursday:

Gravedigger: FrankEinstein, hop into my sidecar! Quickly!

(FrankEinstein gets into the sidecar of the gravedigger’s motorcycle. The two speed off, with the police in chase.)

FrankEinstein: You! You’re that gravedigger! What are you doing here?

Gravedigger: There’s no time to explain! But I was interested in your case and I watched it in it’s entirety at my friend’s house. I was on your side the whole time, and when they found you guilty I just couldn’t believe it. They were going to execute you for something that wasn’t your fault at all! So I asked my friend Ollie if he’d help me rescue you. He’s the friend whose house I’ve been staying at. Even though he was on your side, he didn’t want to risk helping you. I hope you can forgive him for that, it’s just that he’s got a wife, two kids, and a job, and he just couldn’t risk losing them. I was mad about his refusal to help at first, and we fought for awhile. But then I saw his point. But I couldn’t rescue you by myself, I didn’t even own a motorcycle, let alone one with a sidecar. But I knew somebody who did. My ex-girlfriend Veronica. We had been living together for about six months – it’s common in this day and age – and things hadn’t been going well. She didn’t think I had any drive. She kicked me out the day you rose from the grave, and I didn’t know how to get her back. But when I saw you were going to be executed so they could have a scapegoat, it didn’t even matter that we had a past. I just went to her place, rung the doorbell, and said, “I need to borrow your motorcycle with the sidecar so I can rescue FrankEinstein.” She just looked at me for a second smiled, hugged me and kissed me, and gave me the keys.

FrankEinstein: Well I thank you.

Gravedigger: No problem, man! Where do you want to go?

(FrankEinstein draws a gun and holds it to the gravedigger’s head)

FrankEinstein: Take me to the science laboratory. I need equipment to build an atomic bomb. I’m going to drop it on people.

Gravedigger: But…I was sure you were innocent!

FrankEinstein: Well I fooled you. It was easy for me. I’m the smartest man in the world Now take me to the science laboratory. Take me there before I blow your head off!

Lava Your Fellow Man

Los Angeles:

Bruce: Hey, let’s play that game where the floor is lava.

Tammy: But the floor really is lava! Lookout!

(The couch Bruce is standing on melts into the floor. Bruce screams and tries to jump to a neighboring chair, but he doesn’t quite make it. His hands grasp the chair while his legs dissolve in the lava, catching the rest of his body on fire.)

Bruce: (Screams)

Tammy: Hold on, Bruce! I’m coming! Just hold on!

Bruce: (Continues screaming)

(Tammy attempts to jump over to Bruce but she misses her jump and falls into the lava. She is consumed with fire and sinks amid screams of terror. Bruce is in too much pain to notice. His hands slip off the chair and he too is lost to the lava. The lava then disappears, leaving only the smoldering ashes of Bruce and Tammy)

Thursday:

Detective Ham Johnson: Two piles of ash. Two dead teenagers. This pile here used to be Tammy Pine. Cheerleader. Star of her soccer team. And this pile here used to be Bruce Jordan, skateboarder and high school math wiz. It’s a shame. It’s a damn shame. These kids are the ninth and tenth victims of whoever is sick enough to do this. Someone is burning these kids alive, and if it takes me the rest of my life, I’m going to figure out whom!

Detective Roberts: I’ve got to get going.

Detective Ham: Talk to you later. I’m going to ask around town and see if I can’t get any leads. Somebody somewhere knows what’s been burning these kids.

Later:

(Detective Ham Johnson is riding his car home after questioning somebody at night. Suddenly a car appears next to him that tries to drive him off the road. At first Detective Ham Johnson can’t see who’s driving the other car, but just before he drives off a cliff, he sees a glowing blob of lava in the driver’s seat. When his car drives off a cliff, Detective Ham Johnson believes that he is dead for sure. But he isn’t because the car lands on the wing of a Boeing 747 airplane that was flying too close to the cliff.)

Detective Ham Johnson: Lava!

(Detective Ham Johnson collects his thoughts)

Detective Ham Johnson: Lava did it. Lava killed those kids and then tried to kill me when my questions started digging too deep. And Lava thinks it’s gotten away with it too, as I’d be dead if I didn’t land on this 747 here. When this plane lands, I’m going to drive back here and confront Lava. No doubt it will be surprised to find me very much alive.

(Detective Ham Johnson remains on the wing of the 747, and we see the gorgeous countryside fly by underneath him as the plane flies all the way to Charlotte, North Carolina. Once the plane stops, Detective Ham Johnson drives off the wing of the plane and lands safely)

Detective Ham Johnson: Damn it! To stop Lava I’ve got to drive all the way from Charlotte to Los Angeles! Looks like I’m in for one hell of a road trip.

(Detective Ham Johnson puts the pedal to the metal. His Mazda 323 lurches forward)

Detective Ham Johnson: Wooo-eee! I’ve got to drive fast if I’m going to stop Lava from killing more kids.

(Suddenly there is a clunking sound and then steam begins to rise from the hood of Detective Ham Johnson’s Mazda)

Detective Ham Johnson: No! How am I going to get to L.A. now?!

(Airport mechanic Dud Burls approaches Detective Ham Johnson and his broken down car)

Dud Burls: I can fix that!

(Dud Burls uses his wrench and fixes the car)

Detective Ham Johnson: Thanks. I’m trying to catch a killer in Los Angeles that is Lava. I’m worried my car will break down. Would you mind accompanying me on the trip?

Dud Burls: I’d be honored. Let’s go get this killer

(Detective Ham Johnson and Dud Burls travel together, but for some reason the Mazda breaks down again in the Blue Ridge Mountains and Dud Burls can’t fix it. Dud Burls leads them through the mountains and eventually they stumble upon an old wooden shack.)

Detective Ham Johnson: Look! A house!

Dud Burls: Yes. Let’s go inside. Maybe they have food and water. I’ll go in first to check and see if it’s safe.

(Dud Burls goes into the shack. Detective Ham Johnson waits outside for ten minutes until Dud Burls returns.)

Dud Burls: Hey! Nobody’s here! Come on in

Detective Ham Johnson: Hey, while you were inside I noticed this mailbox! It says “McCoys.”

Dud Burls: That’s strange. Come on inside.

Later:

Detective Ham Johnson: I’ll just clean up while Dud Burls is hunting. I know he told me not to, but still.

(Detective Ham Johnson cleans up under Dud Burls’ bed and finds a picture. The picture is labled “McCoy Family Portrait” and clearly identifiable in the picture is Lava and Dud Burls.)

Detective Ham Johnson: This is like the big reveal!

(Dud Burls comes home and Detective Ham Johnson tries to hide the picture)

Dud Burls: I’m gonna break your knees!