Dr. Slick: A Killer Comedy

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Authors: Dani Amore
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his. Tom Goddard’s office. It looked like someone, Goddard, I assume, had overridden Dylan’s computer and had the stuff streaming right on to Dylan’s hard drive. Pretty ingenious actually. Wouldn’t have figured it out if you hadn’t told me where to look.”
    Jack hits another button and the message ends.
    Tom doesn’t know where to begin, so he sits there, dumbfounded and silent.
    “So like I said, I’m conflicted,” Straun continues.  “A part of me is impressed. Another part of me is pretty disgusted. I mean I’m all for breaking the rules - but you broke all the rules. Too many for my tastes. You can’t be trusted.  So you’re fired. Get out. Immediately.”
    A security guard opens the door.
    “Come with me, sir,” he says.
    Tom stands to leave.
    “But I didn’t do it! I was set up!” Tom finally manages to say.
    Straun points to the door.  “Out!”

Fifty
     
    The security guard leads Tom out of the elevator into the building’s lobby.
    A woman jumps out and before Tom can react, Kelly slaps him across the face.
    “You asshole!”
    She slaps him again.
    “How could you?”
    “Kelly, stop, I didn’t–“
    Suddenly, Morgan Wolcott appears behind Kelly. He is dirty and what’s left of his clothes are hanging on him as if they were put on by someone else. His face is slack and his eyes glazed over. He is in total shock. He just looks at Tom, uncomprehending.
    “Whipple...Whipple...don’t squeeze...stop squeezing...”
    There is silence as everyone tries to understand what Morgan is saying, but then Dylan walks into the group and passes Morgan.
    “Whoa, take it easy,” Dylan says to Wolcott and then he sucker punches Tom.  Tom falls to the floor, unable to breathe.
    Dylan turns to Kelly.  “Sorry, but you hit like a girl.”
    The security guard steps in and helps Tom to his feet.
    “That’s enough! Let this man leave,” the guard says.
    “Yeah, get that trash out of here,” Kelly says.
    Tom can barely stand as the guard helps him to the door.  He looks back. Kelly and Dylan are all looking at him with obvious disgust and hatred.
    The guard pushes Tom out the door and shuts the door behind him.  Tom is dizzy and feels sick.  He walks to his car, feeling like he is completely detached from his body.
    He fumbles with his keys and they drop onto the pavement.  He bends down to pick them up and feels a knee driven into his back.
    A man pulls Tom’s arms behind him and slaps a set of cuffs on him. Tom sees that the man is Chicago cop.
    “You’re under arrest.”
    “For what?” Tom gasps.
    “I haven’t got time to list them all, ass clown. Fraud. Illegal wiretaps. Invasion of privacy. Conspiracy.”
    Tom can’t help it.  He starts crying like a baby.
    “Yeah,” the cop says.  “Party’s over, big man.”

Fifty-One
     
    Still handcuffed, Tom is slumped at a table in a police interrogation room.  There is one light, the table, two chairs, and a mirror.
    The cop who arrested Tom is leaning against the wall, smoking.
    “My life is over,” Tom says.
    The cop exhales a cloud of smoke then pushes off from the wall and sits down across from Tom.
    “Listen, you’re definitely lookin’ at some time away. Fraud and conspiracy.
    “How long? And where’s my lawyer?”
    “A few years and who the fuck knows?”
    “No.”
    Tom sits there while the cop fires up another smoke.
    “So tell me about Rocky Sutton,” the cop says.
    “I already told you. He’s fucking nuts! He’s a success coach I hired-“
    “Why’d you hire him?”
    “Because I felt like I needed help.”
    “What kind of help?”
    “I needed an objective third party.”
    “Sounds like bullshit psychobabble,” the cop says.
    “All right! Christ! I’m not a confident guy! I needed someone smarter and stronger and more assertive to help me.”
    “So you hired this whacko.”
    “Yeah, but I didn’t know he was a whacko.”
    “Well, I’ve heard of him,” the cop says, but doesn’t elaborate.

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