(banging fist on desk, red-faced) Forty fucking kilos and a kidnapped girl in the trunk?! That stop was a godamned miracle! And you two clowns almost turned it into a lawsuit buffet with that weak-ass probable cause dance!

Internal is already sniffing around! One wrong move and we're all on the evening news looking like a complete circus with badges!

Cap, cap, easy. We got the bad guys, saved the girl, and Niner got his Kong. That's a W in my book. Swoop had a nose for the shit. Like he smelled his ex-wife's new boyfriend's cologne or something. The man was all over it. Relax, Mike. We good.

(calm, but still fuming) King... you always come in here with that cool brother smooth shit. — Fine. But next time…

Y'all see this shit?

(shaken) Awe, hell.

(to the entire office) Y'all ain't gonna believe this! I just left the warehouse on 5th—whole damn thing was entirely rigged! Cartel dudes had a submarine in the river! Submarine! With torpedoes! They were gonna flood the whole precinct!

(high pitched) Whaaaat?

Swear to God! I saw the periscope! And the driver had on a Mexican sombrero, but it was all lit up with the LEDs! They was playing that narco-corrido shit out the hatch! — Man, I swear on my momma. (yells across the office) This connects to the pop-trunk bust, Cap! It's all one big motherfuckin underwater trafficking ring!

(brow raised) A submarine. In the river. With LEDs? Tony… you been huffing the evidence again?

My office. Now! The rest of you—back to work before I lose what’s left of my gotdam mind!

(muffled but loud) A SUBMARINE?! Are you fucking kidding me, Tony?! Every… time… you open your mouth, it's like a clown car crashed into some cooky conspiracy theory!

You're a fucking detective, Tony.

That's right. You're not some telenovela writer! You're on the job!

Clock the fuck in, lock the fuck in.

Kali… that's enough.

My bad, cap.

(clears throat) If you come bouncing in this mother fucking office one more time like you're Tigger and I'm Whinnie the gatdam Pooh, I swear to all that is mighty in this world, I will have your ass served on a platter. Is that clear?

Yes, sir.

Updated logs, Captain. And the lab results on the fentanyl.

(quiet, sweet) Have a great day, Tony.

(still raging) And another thing!

Submarine with LEDs, bruh. Tony's over here writing his fanfic again.

(laughing) I wouldn't be surprised if Tony's asshole gets a complete workout from every time Mike's voice makes him flinch and pucker.

(pointing) I saw that! King… remind me to give that one the same treatment I’m giving Tony right now.

(calmly) Got it, Cap. On the list.

(still snickering) Tammy, you getting a load of this?

(smirking) Oh, I'm gettin all of that.

We're taking bets that it's gonna be so bad that he can't walk afterwards.

(pulls out cash) What are the odds?