Good cop, bad cop
Hi there. Take a seat. Have a biscuit. A digestive, maybe? Chocolate Hob nob? The choice is entirely yours. Don't let me pressure you. Don't even have a biscuit if you don't want one. It matters not one jot to me, so long as you are comfortable and happy. Tell you what, forget the biscuit. Pretend it never happened. I'm truly sorry I even brought it up. If I could make the world biscuit-free, just for you, I would - but heck, I'm just a cop on a salary. My influence on the biscuit industry is pretty limited.
So, today, we are going to discuss the Good cop/Bad cop interrogation technique. Would you like that? Great! Let's get started. For this technique, you need two cops, a small room and a suspect - that's you! I'm good cop and I want to be your friend. Would you like to be my friend? Let's be friends. Now that we are two friends in one room, we can learn about interrogation techniques.
Ok, before we go any further, I want to introduce you to my partner, Bad cop. Now, I think it is only fair to warn you that while Bad cop is a dedicated, fair and hardworking guy, he can sometimes be a tiny weenie little bit, well, how can I put this... psychotic? It's absolutely nothing to worry about. I'm just laying the foundations here. Nothing more. But there's one more thing. Bad cop can be a bit loose with the curse words. Well, ok, "a bit loose" is putting it mildly. He swears like a trooper. Well, like a trooper that just dropped a car tire on his foot. But I'll tell you what. I'll go over everything that Bad cop says and take out all the curse words and replace them with the word "furry". Then you won't be scared of him at all! Ok? Ciao!
Furry hell, who is this motherfurry shirthead? I'm talking to you pal. You furry piece of shirt. I'm going to tear your guts out and stomp.... Hang on a minute... What's with all the furry "furrys?" That furry shirthead Good cop has been gherkin with my furry swear words again. I'll friggin kill him, after I've killed you, you slack-jawed beaver-bashing noodlist. Yeah, I mean you. Is there anyone else here?
So, you want to learn all about interrogation techniques, do you? Now why, I ask myself, do you want to go do a thing like that? Is it because, maybe, you're planning to steal some old ladies' house and sell it to the Iraqis? You know, I just bet you are. It's written all over your furry face. You're up to something, pal, and it sure ain't broadening the mind. If that's what you're after, I can do that for you. Sure, I can broaden your mind. I can broaden it about six meters square on this very table using just my fists.
TELL ME ABOUT BADGER THE BASTARD! TELL ME ABOUT BADGER THE BASTARD! TELL M... oh fub, it's good cop. I'll be back...
Hi there! Still got all of your limbs? Good. But you do look a little pale. How about a nice cup of ... I'm sorry? Badger the who? Was he on about that thing again? Dear oh dear. I am so sorry. Bad cop has a bit of an obsession with Mr. Bastard, ever since he pulled a hedgehog out by the airport. A hedgehog. You know, the old gold bullion into the van job. The gangs call it a hedgehog. No idea why.
So, let's get back to interrogation techniques. As you can see, us 'cops' are behaving a little odd. 'Bad Cop' behaved negatively towards you, making blatant accusations, derogatory comments, threats, and being an all round bastard. In real life, of course, he just loves making balloon animals and giving them away for free to local children. A lovely man... lovely man... shame he got married really... We could have ....
Sorry, where was I? Oh yes, interrogation techniques.
I'm not at all like bad cop, as you can see. I'm your friend. You know that. If I had my way, there would be no bad cop at all. Just you and me, holding hands and skipping through daisies. Have you got any other friends who could join us? Perhaps Mr. Bastard is a friend of yours? No? Are you sure? Because I bet that underneath it all, Badger is a really nice guy too. We could all play Scrabble. I'm good at Scrabble, are you? Let's have a game now! Oh no, wait a minute, here he comes again...
One word, four letters, triple score: Fist. As in, mine, heading rapidly towards your face. Badger pulled a hedgehog on me, and NO ONE does that, you hear? NO ONE. Now, I know you've been at the airport. We've got a baggage handler in the next room who's identified your furry face. That's right, pal. So don't go fubbing around with me now. Just tell me where the stuff is and I won't leave any bruises.
Frigging balloon animals. I could kill that good cop. He thinks it's funny, you know, making up all that shirt about me. But let me tell you, underneath this violent exterior beats a heart of pure filth. I'm like Ghandi on mescalin, pal. Don't forget it.
So... interrogation techniques. Well, normally pal, experienced interrogators assess the frigging shirt head subject's level of furry intelligence and experience with the good cop/bad cop technique prior to its application. But in your case, we just took one look at you and dispensed with all that. So...
TELL ME ABOUT BADGER THE BASTARD! TELL ME ABOUT BADGER THE BASTARD! TELL ME! TELL ME OR I'LL ... oh for FUB'S SAKE! ... couldn't you wait for just ONE MORE minute?
Would anyone like some meatballs? I only ask because I just whipped up a batch and I have them in a nice bucket out the back. I always get hungry when there's a bit of interrogating to do.
Ghandi on mescalin? Don't worry about that. That's just Bad Cop's way of saying that
I'm I mean, he's only a big big softy at heart. If you think about it, Gandhi on mescalin would just be Ghandi, slumped over the spinning wheel, giggling like a lunatic. Hardly scary at all, except maybe to the millions who were depending on him for Indian emancipation.
And when you think about it, Badger the Bastard was after a sort of emancipation too wasn't he? He just wanted to emancipate two tons of gold bullion from the airport. I bet he likes meatballs too! Hey, why don't you call him and ask him over for some meatballs? We could all eat together and watch the snooker.
Meatballs? MEATBALLS? Do you know what Good Cop puts in those meatballs? Puppies, yes. I like to pre... I mean HE likes to pretend that he's all nice and everything, but in reality, he can usually be found running around dark alleys chasing puppies to put into his latest batch of ragu. Not that I'm against that sort of behavior or anything. It's perfectly lawful and good fun. If society were kinder to people like me then I'd be doing it all the time, instead of having to dress up in my police uniform and come in here and interrogate a nice looking shirt head like you.
And Gandhi on mescalin would NOT be slumped over his spinning wheel. He'd be out there with a bazooka, showing the RAJ that he the man. Just like I'm showing you that I'M the man! Yes, pal, I'm the man around here! The only one, in fact, apart from you. It's a brain problem that I enjoy at weekends, don't I Good Cop?
Oh yes, indeed I do. It's nice for me to sit down and enjoy a bit of brain problem, don't you think. But it can't be all fun and games, can it Bad Cop?
Indeed no. So .... TELL ME ABOUT BADGER THE BASTARD! TELL ME ABOUT BADGER THE BASTARD! TELL ME AND WE'LL PLAY SCRABBLE! I'M THE MAN! I'M THE MAN!
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