INT. POLICE CHIEF ANNAN’S OFFICE - DAY

[Chief Annan, harried, looks up from his piles of paperwork.]

ANNAN: Captain Bush, get yer ass in here!

[Captain Bush, still dirty from his last heroic exercise in rough justice (see “RJ III”), saunters in. He casually slides into a chair, putting muddied boots on Annan’s desk.]

BUSH: Wanted to see me, “Chief?”

ANNAN: Yeah. And can you stop making air-quotes every time you say “Chief?”

BUSH: Sure thing, “Commander.”

ANNAN: Okay. Let’s talk about the IraqCo. thing.

BUSH: Talk away. That’s what you do best.

[Captain Bush snickers, elbowing the guy next to him. Awkward pause as he (and Chief Annan) realize that there is no guy next to him.]

ANNAN: I’m taking you off the case.

BUSH (leaping up): You can’t do that!

ANNAN: Yes, I can. Sort of. Officially, at least. Dammit, Bush, you can’t just storm in and kill an important man like Hussein. There are laws. We need proof.

BUSH: You need proof, Chief. I just need my investigatative partners.

ANNAN: Partners? Your partners have already requested reassignment.

BUSH (with a flourish): I’m talking about the only partners I ever needed - Smith and Crisco.

ANNAN: “Crisco?”

BUSH: Uh, “Wesson.” Smith and Wesson.

ANNAN: Don’t make me ask for your badge, Bush.

BUSH: You don’t have the balls, Annan. This is between me and Hussein now. Me and the man who killed my father.

ANNAN: Bush, he didn’t kill your father!

BUSH: Yeah, that’s what Dad says, too, but he’s just trying to protect me. Listen Chief, you get the word out to Mr. Hussein that he’s got 48 hours to turn himself in. After that, tell ‘im I’m coming for him. And he’s going to have to face some… [turns to camera] Rough Justice.

[Bush turns on his heel.]

BUSH: Come on, boys. Let’s roll.

[Chief Annan looks around the office, seeing no “boys.” Captain Bush strolls out.]

ANNAN: Dammit, Bush, you can’t do this! There are procedures, protocols! There’s law. Even if you’re right, you can’t just fly off half-cocked, dispensing your own daring brand of blindingly fast frontier justice! Bush? Bush!?

[But Bush is gone.]

ANNAN (under his breath): Good luck, you beautiful son of a bitch….

INT. IRAQCO WAREHOUSE - 48 HOURS LATER

[Saddam Hussein, CEO of IraqCo, stands at the head of a long table where his lackeys sit in terrified obedience. He toys idly with an AK-47. Around him, the warehouse is filled with crates with labels like “POISON GAS” and “PLAGUE” and “HERPES.”]

SADDAM: Gentlemen, the time has come to take action. As you know, IraqCo. has once again turned record profits. But I will not be satisfied until the entire city is bent to my will.

LACKEY #1: The first step would be to get rid of Police Captain George Bush.

[Saddam whirls and fires, riddling Lackey #1 with round after round of machine gun fire. Growling, he grabs a can of petrol, douses the lackey, and sets him on fire. He grabs a crowbar and beats him as he burns, garrotes him with a piano wire, and detonates a bomb under his chair. He turns to a complicated panel of screens and buttons behind him, summons up a screen that reads “Lackey #1’s Family” and shows a woman and two children sitting at a kitchen table. He hits a button labeled “Destroy” and a his men watch in horror as a herd of gigantic radioactive camels stampede through the kitchen, obliterating the family. Saddam laughs maniacally, controls himself, straightens his hair, and turns back to the table.]

SADDAM: I advised you not to mention that name. Still, our late friend brought up a good point. Captain Bush must be destroyed. And gentlemen, I have a plan…

[His voice fades as we pan up to reveal a shadowy figure in the rafters - it’s Bush!]

BUSH (quietly): Keep talking, Sad-man.

VOICE (in an urgent whisper): George!

[Tumbling through a high window, a little out of control, we see young Officer Blair. Expertly, Bush catches him just before he falls to the floor below.]

BUSH: Goddammit, Tony! I told you not to come. This is my war. You could lose your job. Or worse.

BLAIR (with boyish esprit de corps): Nobody lives forever, eh wot? If you want to do this without me, well, you’ll just have to fight ME, too, you will.

[Despite himself, a grim, manly smile crosses Bush’s face.]

BUSH: All right, it’s too late to send you back. Just stick close to me, and stay alertified…

[Stealthily, Blair behind him, Bush starts to inch along the rafter…]

-TO BE CONTINUED-