In the coming weeks Finnegan and I will be shopping our pilot episode for a buddy cop series that we have been very much hard at work on for what feels like hundreds of hours in the past three to four days of knowing each other. As it turns out his enormous talent for improv and my dead pan stare relays us with both a grand and austere good cop/bad cop complex, one not seen since the inception of good cop/bad cop.
Basically I’ve got all of season one planned out. As rookie cops the first day on the job we are entrusted with a little minnow of a case, a truck of dehydrated milk is stolen down by the docks, and it’s on us to find it. This is both difficult and hilarious as I am lactose intolerant and he is a cat that just for some strange reason does not like the taste of milk. Nonetheless we take the case to keep our jobs.
As it turns out in the first episode through a long winded combination of feline and human investigation, as well as impractical snafus, we do not find the truck of stolen dehydrated milk, instead we bust a hundred year old underground gang smuggling cocaine in Hell’s Kitchen, New York.
The whole police station goes wild as we close a nine year case that everyone assumed was completely unsolvable. But in the back of my mind, and I can also see it in his deep, deep blue eyes, we are still concerned about the stolen milk, the milk our bodies reject, but our hearts must bring to justice.
My tagline... "Damnit Finnegan, it's not dehydrated milk, it's stupid illegal drugs again."
In every oncoming episode of season one we accidentally solve all the wrong crimes while inching closer and closer to the end game. Who stole the evaporated milk?