Profile (Soho)

Capt.Thaddeus Harris (Police Academy 365)

FRIDAY 22ND AUGUST 2008 - 7:20 pm

*Proctor and Harris, hold a copy of a London Street map between them; they are disguised as American tourists - in summer shirts, shorts and long socks along, with all the usual accompanying paraphernalia. They are outside Profile bar, looking up at the sign. It’s raining and their map is slowly disintegrating to mush.*

“Godamn you Proctor, this is a back alley in the deviants district!”

“I know Sir, I know, it does seem a little unlikely. But this is England Sir,..and things are bound to be a little different over here; we’ll need to adapt. And anyhow, these are the directions that Mahoney gave me.”

“Mahoney!!? Mahoney! We’re taking our directions from that useless dumb-ass?! This is supposed to be a secret operation numb-nuts,..Why in the hell is Mahoney in on it,..he is suspended from duty for godsake?”

“Well, he sent me an e-mail sir,.. he’s an expert on the London social scene apparently,... tells me that he ‘Summered’ here in the early nineties, and said that this bar ‘PROFILE’ has the best atmosphere and most ‘up-for-it’ clientele in town. ‘Exactly what we are looking for’ were his exact words I believe.”

Likely clientele huh?! Well,..it damn sure better have,…we are on serious police business here Proctor,…if we don’t find a crew of young recruits in the next 48 hours,..we’re up slack alley!!

*With their shirts soaked through,…they go inside,..Proctor stuffs the destroyed map into his fanny pack.*

Harris - *taking off his dripping baseball cap* Proctor,…get us a coupla beers in, will you man. I need to get to the can, to dry this off and freshen up. Once you have got them (the beers),..find us a spot at the bar and scope the joint for likely recruits. Remember, we need stong healthy, enthusiastic men, who are not afraid to handle a weapon. Put the word-out that we are looking,………oh, and Proctor,…be discreet for once in your life will you!

Yes sir,……

*Proctor goes to the bar,..squeezing trough a bunch of giggling 20 something men,…he gets his arse pinched a couple of times and playfully slaps the hands away.*

,…….Proctor, (the bumbling fool) and I, had been put on a top-secret mission to the United Kingdom, in Great London - England. A highly confidential operation it was, so much so,….that not even Commandant Lassard himself had been made aware of it.

Our remit was to recruit a number of likely young UK Citizens to participate in our Patrol Exchange Programme. My initial thoughts, here in Profile, were that our prospects were good. The patrons were young, athletic and seemed full of the joys of spring. It seemed that Mahoney may have been right after all. I left Proctor to lay the ground work; my need to dry off, freshen up and to urinate was pressing. Crutching my groin, I entered the washroom,……

The place had mirrors everywhere,…and practically no urinals. These English have a different way of doing things I thought,…but still – the mirrors at least served their purpose - in showing me my appearance – I looked a mess.

Looking into one of the many glasses, I could see that my ‘I love London’ T-Shirt was soaked through –exposing my police nipples,..and, even more embarrassing – there was a certain amount of unsightly ‘bunching’ in my crinoleen shorts. Luckily for me, there were plenty of cubicles, within which a fellow could straighten himself out. I aimed for the first one,…….and heard a voice calling from behind me,..

“Care for some company in there big boy,..?”

I turned to find a smiling chap leaning on the sink. He was a burly white-vested fellow in his mid twenties…

“What!?” I said.

“I said, would you care for some company in there girlfriend? Cubicles are waaaay more fun when you share!”

This man was obviously crazy. Being used to dealing with the mentally deranged, I tried a gentler tack,..

“Excuse me young man, I think that there has been some kind of misunderstanding here. I need to relieve myself, and fast! Where can I accomplish this? Is this definitely the 'Mens' washroom?”

“Ooooooh, desperate huh!?” He said, “I bet you are! Well you’re in the right place for relief handsome,....it's all for 'Men' in here.”

The man was obviously an IDIOT, and beyond help. I ignored him and entered the cubicle.

*Knock knock* “You-who,.. Sweetie,…….if you change your mind, I’ll be back outside near the bar area.”

I kept quiet and sat down. However, this unsettling incident put me right of my stride. So much so that i finished my freshening in the cubicle, in something of a daze.

It was slowly dawning on me that this was no ordinary bar!

After washing my hands, I left the toilets and approached Proctor at the bar; my sense of unease building. Once again, it seemed that I had been sold a ‘bum-steer’ – Mahoney, the half-wit, was having another laugh at my expense. This will not stand, I thought.

*Nineties garage house music is pumping now at ever increasing volume and Proctor is draped at the bar with his arms around a hefty Asian guy, with a Hitler ‘tash,..his baseball cap is turned backwards, and he is sipping on an outrageous looking cocktail whilst playfully slapping the Asian guys arm away,..*

“Proctor, what is that you are drinking?”

“A Strawberry Daiquiri Sir! It’s lovely,..won’t you have one? The nice barman over there; with the pencil moustache, said they were the best in town,..and I know you only like the best Sir! I am starting to get a taste for this ‘recruiting.’”

“Proctor you Pecker-head, what on earth do you think you are up to man, I asked for a PINT of beer didn’t I! For godsake, we are supposed to be under cover here! Anyway,..finish that drink Officer. We’re leaving!!

*In the background, the 3 barman break into a rendition of “Gonna make you sweat till you bleed” behind the counter,..grooving to an impromptu routine,…*

“Sir, look at those fellas back there,..the optimomy of fitness and masculinity!‘Leaving’ you say! But surely these are all clearly very fit men,..ideal candidates for the programme?”

“No Proctor, these men are not right,..can you not see that man? The are not ‘Citizens on Patrol’ material at all. They’re more like a ‘Collection of Pissants’ if you ask me.”

*As Harris cajoles Proctor into leaving, the lights in the bar go down, the Garage music tails-off to be replaced by something more retro.... The Shirelles.*

"Tonight you're mine completely, you give your love so sweetly, Tonight the light of love is in your eyes, But will you love me tomorrow?" *All the men in the bar take to the floor,………*

“Gee Sir, I see what you mean,… I think we ARE in trouble here!”

“We certainly are Proctor,..but trust me,..i’ll get us out of this. Now,….MOVE IT, MOVE IT, MOVE IT!!!!” *they break for the door and burst through out onto the street, without breaking stride.*

,…….So we ran like the wind until we reached a more sophisticated ale house. Once there Proctor apologised for his incompetence and asked for my expertise,..

“You were not to know Proctor” I told him “You have not had European field experience have you?”

“No sir” he replied “What on earth was the matter with the fellows in there anyhow?!”

“Proctor” I explained “These are what the English call ‘Scousers’, they are, loose cannons, wild misfits, entirely untrustworthy and unsuitable for Police-work of any kind,…”

Captain Theaddeus Harris’ rating for Profile – 7 / 10

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