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Five-Minute "The Thin Dead Line"

by Scott Zarchy

Mother: Please, you have to help us! This demon just bit my daughter and made an eye appear in the back of her head!
Wesley: Well, I'd actually consider that pretty useful. Why are you in such a hurry to get rid of it?
Mother: Because then she won't believe me when I tell her I have eyes in the back of MY head!

Anne: So why exactly were you in such a hurry to come in to the shelter last night?
Kenny: It was cold out.
Anne: It was 65 degrees.
Kenny: ...it was raining candy and sunshine?
Anne: Please, that only hurts if you're a vampire.
Kenny: Eh, I give up. The cops are beating random people up and I was running for my life.
Anne: Meep.

Anne: Hi, Gunn. Would you mind helping me out with something?
Gunn: ...Before I answer that, are we on network television or late-night HBO?
Anne: I'm pretty sure this is a network. Censors and all that.
Gunn: Darn. I guess you could tell me what your problem is, but it won't be nearly as fun as what I had in mind.

Anne: I need someone to protect the shelter. The cops have gone crazy and started randomly beating people.
Gunn: ...Meep?
Anne: I already said that.
Gunn: Oh. Well in that case, gulp.

Cop 1: Put your hands behind your head.
Angel: But I haven't done anything wrong, officer.
Cop 1: Let's see, you allowed thirteen lawyers to be brutally slaughtered by vampires, you lit said vampires on fire, and your hair looks like you killed a raccoon, dipped it in lard and put it on your head.
Angel: Okay, that's it. NOBODY disses the hair.
(Angel decapitates the cop)
Cop 1's Head: Well, that hurt.

Angel: I just killed a cop.
Kate: Unless we're talking about the cast of Police Academy and you just killed Steve Guttenberg, you have a lot of explaining to do right about now.
Angel: He kept talking after I cut his head off.
Kate: Okay, I changed my mind. You had better not be talking about Steve Guttenberg.

Kate: How could these cops be dead one minute and walking around enforcing the law the next?
Angel: They're zombies. It's the only possible way.
Robocop: That's what they all said.

Gunn: Cordelia, these are my friends Rondell and George. We're going to go out and try and tape ourselves being beaten by the cops.
Cordelia: How do you know the cops will be after you in the first place, aside from the fact that you're wearing bullseyes and flashing neon lights that say "We Hate Cops"?
Gunn: ...We figured that would be enough, but we could also rely on your garden-variety racism.
Cordelia: But what if you run into a black cop?
Gunn: You know what, I'm tired of you making sense all the time and ruining all my plans. We're going.
Cordelia: But-- hey! One of your neon letters burned out! Eh, probably doesn't matter.

Gunn: Here, kitty, kitty, kitty...
Rondell: I don't think the cops would like being called "kitty," G.
George: Guess not -- here comes one right now.
Cop 2: Put your hands over your head, you cannibals!
Gunn: Cannibals? What are you --
Cop 2: Don't ask questions! When someone has the nerve to walk around with "We Ate Cops" in neon letters, that someone deserves a good beating, wouldn't you say?
Gunn: Before the two of you say a word, "Meep" and "Gulp" are already taken.
Rondell: Uh-oh.
George: Yikes.

Wesley: Wait! Don't hurt this man, he's a friend of mine!
Cop 2: Another cannibal! Will the terror never end?
Wesley: Cannibal? Hey, wait, you've made a terrible --
Cop 2: Die, cannibal scum!
Wesley: AGGGH!
Gunn: Why did you shoot him in the stomach?
Cop 2: To free my police brethren from his digestive system! You next!
Rondell: 'Fraid not.
Cop 2: GAK! You'll pay for killing me.
Gunn: Now that's just weird. We're out of here.

Cordelia: Wesley! You've been shot!
Paramedic: Please, I need some room.
Cordelia: Tell me what I can do to help you! I'll do absolutely anything you ask!
Paramedic: ...Before I answer that, are we --
Cordelia: This is still a network, there are still censors, and even if there weren't, EWW!
Paramedic: Rats. I suppose we could try to save his life then.

Gunn: Um, cops. Kind of breaking windows trying to get in.
All: Mee--
Anne: Nope.
All: Gul--
Gunn: Sorry.
All: (random screams of terror)
Gunn: I guess that one was available.

Kate: So if this is the precinct where this is all happening, would your captain happen to be doing things by the book, officer?
Cop 3: ...If by book you mean the unholy texts of the zombie god Granath, then yes. I wasn't supposed to say that, was I?
Angel: I'm going back there.
Cop 3: Shucks.

Angel: So how are you controlling these dead cops, huh?
Captain: I'll never tell you!
Angel: I guess I'll just have to see what disgusting, odious ingredients you're keeping around here and figure it out my-- ooh,
is that O-negative?
Captain: (muttering) Great. An undead private investigator hunting down my undead police officers. Next thing you know we'll have undead lawyers.
Holland Manners: Yep, pretty much.

Angel: Lookie here. A pretty little idol. I like pretty things, and I can never have them 'cause I have a tortured soul.
Captain: Please. That's obvious to anyone who looks at that dead animal on your head that you --
Angel: NOT THE HAIR! Now I have to smash this thing to tiny little pieces.
Captain: NO!
Idol: (smash)
Zombies: GAK!
Raccoon on Angel's Head: (weep) I have feelings too...

Nurse: Now don't you worry, now that he's here we'll take good care of Mr. Wyndham-Pryce. Does he have any allergies?
Cordelia: Let me see... Wesley is allergic to long black coats, hair gel, pale skin...
Gunn: You could just tell them not to let Angel in.
Cordelia: Yes, but this way they treat him like a biohazard, which is much more entertaining.
(Angel is trapped in a plastic bubble by the hospital staff at Ludicrous Speed)

THE END

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This fiver was originally published on October 3, 2004.

DISCLAIMER: A lot of material in here is copyrighted by Mutant Enemy, but since they unofficially encourage fanfic and such, I doubt there'll be any trouble. Unless their legal consultants are with Wolfram & Hart, in which case all bets are off.

All material © 2004, Scott Zarchy.