What the hell are you doing? People become cops for two reasons, alright. They need the paycheck or they like to carry a big gun and tell people what to do. Now you, you surely don't need the money. I don't think you're a freak. So what the hell are you doing here?
I'm a cop, same as you're a cop.
A rookie walks my way.
Someone new, someone different, someone who plays by the book.
I don't like him.
Trouble's written all over him.
He's a tard.
A rich tard from Beverly Hills.
Doesn't even look fit for the job.
Give him a chance? Won't make it through the second day.
He's already thrown up, been ridiculed by Dewey.
But karma comes around, he's Dewey's savior.
A crack shot, I tell ya, even if he doesn't look like a cop.
A good kid.
A good kid who's been through shit like me.
The only thing we've got in common…
So a chance, huh? I'll give him one. Maybe.
I can't promise one just yet.