"On top of the misses" Bruce begins laughing, "talking about kickin' me to the curb last night, now I gotta…" The chief loses his focus and gives Bruce a fierce glance, who is standing against one of the windows of the chief's office. "What's so funny, Bruce?" he says sternly.
Normally Simon would have at least been grinning at the joke the chief inadvertently made, but on this morning he was especially somber and concerned about losing his job, or at least receiving a serious demotion. Had the killer he was following struck at the heart of his professional life, now, as well, by practically framing him? Whoever it was was deliberately trying to frustrate the already frustrated one-eyed detective.
The two detectives glance at each one another, pushing the other with their looks to come clean on the childish joke and move on. Bruce chimes in first, realizing he's on the chopping block.
"Well, Skip…It's just… you said… 'on top of the misses.'" this time Bruce is not even smiling as the phrase enters his head again. The chief looks at him disapprovingly.
"Let's move on, children." the chief straightens up and crosses his arms. "Last night I had to deal with that shit at home and now, this morning, I get this call, putting Internal Affairs directly on my ass wondering first, why two of my top guys left a drugged-out witness's house moments before she was murdered, and second why one of those detectives has a constant target on his back from either a copycat or the original 'scarring killer'. You're too close to all this, Simon." Simon puts his head in his hand, and Bruce straightens up.
"So, here's what we're gonna do, fellas." Simon looks up gravely. "I talked to Internal," the chief turns concerned for the two, "and we came to an agreement. First, is that the two of you cannot work together anymore. As much as it pains me to see my little project fail, you two are sort of a liability individually--for quite a few reasons--but definitely a fucking liability when you're working together."
"Finally!" Bruce lets out a partially-sarcastic gasp.
"Oh what-the-fuck-ever, Bruce!" Simon shouts, "Good riddance… I've put up with your bullshit for so long. you're holding me back." The chief begins looking at both of them fake-patiently, waiting for their childish argument to seise.
"Holding you back?!?! Change that shitty record already, I'm tired of that old disco tune." Simon begins imitating the Bee Gees, making his own melody. "Holding me back!…He's holding me back!" The chief's stare continues, but gradually changes to astonishment at the two for ignoring him and continuing to be fixated on their own petty quarrels.
"A big joke. Everything's a big joke! It's all so fucking hysterical." Simon attempts to imitate Bruce but instead imitate's Connor Rooney from Road To Perdition, and almost loses his edge, but doesn't, clearly having upped his morning dose of FG-5.
"It is pretty funny, though, right, Skip," he looks to the chief for approval, as he attempts to complete his thought, but, upon seeing the boss's face, begins to trail off simultaneously, "that we are both losing really and…"
"Are you two dip-shits ready for number two?" Bruce fights laughter again but becomes stern seeing that the chief got this joke and that his patience, again, is starting to wear very thin.
"The second change is that--despite my greatest efforts to keep the thristy detective from the drug teat--we gotta transfer Simon here to the FG-5 division." Simon's eye narrows, as he looks directly into the chief's.
"You can't be serious chief." Simon says confidently, defiantly, and quietly.
"Right… I mean don't they have, like, some policies about a user of the drug not being about to catch the guys peddling said drug, Skip?"
"It seems their restrictions have become slightly less strict, and they want to use cops addicted to FG-5, like our friend here, to infiltrate larger FG-5 gang rings, as detectives seemingly in other departments simply trying to score the drug--and a little cash--for themselves. Apparently they've had their eyes on Simon here for quite awhile." The chief suddenly looks like he's surprised himself. "Shit, I've said too much with Bruce here already. I'm just so damn excited to get this four year mess you two might call a partnership off my hands."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Skip, you mean you're marriage?" The chief gives him a defiant and violent look.
"Fuck you, Brucie boy! And remember, you still work for me." he walks to Simon and puts his hands on the cyclops's shoulders. "Simon, it was nice to work with you, and you know my door is always open to you. Hopefully, before that time you won't get your damn head blown off, BADDA BING!" he makes the apparent Godfather reference "all over your shitty-detective, cigarette-smelling, FG-5-bullshit suit." he loses his train of thought and releases his grip on Simon. "Now get out of my office both of you, I've got murderers to capture and shit." He points to Simon. "Oh, and Simon?"
"Yeah, chief?"
"Remember what I always told you." Simon nods. "And here." He hands him a thick manilla envelope with the words "Operation: Power Grab" written on it in permanent marker.
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