[ccc] bad cop, there is no good cop

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Literature Text

The scene opens up on a dreary gray sky, much like the Crook sitting at a lone table in a cold concrete room. The Crook shifts uncomfortably in a metal folding chair, penned in by four unyielding walls. A flash of lightning briefly sets the room aglow, shining brightly from the small, steel-barred window behind the table. To the front of the room, a large pane of dark glass- a one-way mirror- fills up a large part of the wall, leaving just enough room for a heavy steel door on the right.

The heavy sound of tumblers falling into place causes the gray Crook to look up from their hand wringing, and a look of surprise fills their eyes before turning to somewhat indignant suspicion. The newcomer is a striped Crook with a steely glint in their eyes who circles the table once like a predator before casually leaning their hip against the edge of the frigid metal table.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Halik. Do you know why you’re here?”

Halik looks incredulous, “Myir, what’s this about? Why am I... what is this? The table, the mirror, this room? Why did you drag me down to the police station and rent an interrogation room?” The gray Crook grows increasingly agitated, almost to the point of raising their voice. Though in desperation or self defense, one will never know.

Myir clicks their tongue and looks down to examine their claws, “I thought it would be obvious at this point. Why else would one be placed in an interrogation room? You are being interrogated, Halik, and it would be in your best interest to cooperate!”

“Why do I need to be interrogated?” Halik’s voice became strained, “You can’t just keep me locked up in here like a convict!” The gray Crook curls their tail around their legs and glowers at Myir.

Myir’s growl lowers the temperature in the room to freezing, pinning Halik to the spot with the sheer weight of their intimidation. “I’ve had enough of you feigning ignorance, no crime goes unpunished on my watch, and you have twelve glaring crimes to fess up for.”

“Twelve...” Halik’s expression snaps from defensive to absolutely flabbergasted, “Myir are you pulling my leg right now? This is about the batch of snickerdoodles you baked earlier, isn’t it.”

A metallic screech rings out as Myir jostles the metal table and drags their claws across the dulled surface, “Yes! It’s about the snickerdoodles and how YOU ate them all! You ate the entire batch of cookies, and I want an apology!”

Halik’s head hits the table with a muted thud, “Oh you... you went through all this trouble just to... to interrogate me over cookies. Myir, you absolute fool.” Halik shakes their head and sighs, then lifts their head with renewed conviction. “The only thing I can say to you, swear on my life, is that I only ate three cookies. I have no idea what happened to the rest.”

“What?!” Myir snarls, losing their composure as they reach across the table and grab Halik by the shoulders, “This case goes deeper than I initially suspected? But the evidence was all there! The crumbs, the lower milk level in the jug, your self-satisfied smiles. How deep does this go?!”

Halik lets their head loll back and groans in exasperation, “I hope you have this room rented out for a few more hours, my friend. Don’t you remember that Chime and Jingle stopped by to pay a visit before noon?”

“Oh no...” Myir releases Halik and stares off into the distance in muted horror, “They did visit... but... how will I get either of them to confess...”

“That’s your problem now. But, I’ll be nice. If I see them today, I’ll be sure to mention that you’re looking for them. Have a good afternoon, Myir.” And with that, Halik rises from the chair and exist the interrogation room.

I mean, if you encountered a plate of cookies still warm from the oven, would you NOT eat them??

featuring Halik and Myir
Word count: 653
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