STRIKE: Line Of Duty

 

[A knock at the door of Comoran Strike’s office. Two figures enter]

Detective Sergeant Steve Arnott: I’m Detective Sergeant Steve Arnott –

Detective Sergeant Kate Fleming : – And I’m Detective Sergeant Kate Fleming

Together: And we are from AC-12…

DS Fleming: – Wait a second, is that a cup of piss on your window sill?

DS Arnott: That’s breaking building regs…

Robin: It’s not mine!

 

[Strike walks from his office into the reception area]

Strike: What do you want?

DS Arnott: It’s come to our attention Eric Wardle has been leaking you investigative information about ongoing cases which you then go on to solve.

Strike: Who says that?

DS Fleming: Detective Carver.

DS Arnott: Kate! That’s confidential information!

DS Fleming: Sorry, I don’t know what came over me… I just felt like telling him.

DS Arnott: Don’t tell him about Anstis then…

Strike: Oh, so Richard Anstis is involved in this too? He owes me a leg… you might say an arm and a leg.

 

[Suddenly a senior police officer bursts through the door]

Superintendent Ted Hastings: What the feck is going on here you two?

DS Arnott: We don’t know Guv, he just has an effect on us both!

Super Hastings: [Addressing Strike] You listen here son – we have you bang to rights.

Strike: Then I have no choice…

 

[Strike leaps out the window quickly followed by Robin]

Narrator v/o: Little did AC-12 know but the secret identity of down on his luck private detective Cormoran Strike was that of the super detective COMORANT MAN! Aided by his trusty sidekick Robin (who is in no way an intended copyright infringement on any other superhero sidekicks who may go by a similar homophone or name) they fight crime through sheer coincidence using their author given ‘make up an expertise in the necessary skill on the spot’ writing.

Super Hastings: The Comorant Strikes again!

 

[outside walking down the road in slow motion Comoran is smoking and Robin is not looking where she’s going as she looks up a new job to apply for on her phone]

Robin: Thank goodness we both took advanced courses in stunt work!

Strike: Actually I didn’t. I just got blown up by an IED on tour in Afghanistan. On the bright side my tuition only cost me a leg. Get it… ‘it cost an arm and a leg’… and I lost my leg… but… not an arm…

 

[Robin looks at him awkwardly not sure what to say since the BBC might censor this scene for fear of offending someone. They continue walking down the street]

Strike: Quick Robin! To the Comorant Copter!

Robin: We don’t have one…

Strike: The Comorant Cycle!

Robin: Nope…

Strike The… Comorant… um Canoe? Cart? Chariot? Crop duster? Caravan? Caravel? Catamaran? Coach? Compact car? Coupe? Cruise ship? Container ship? Clipper ship? Cutter? Cable car? Convertible? Container ship? Conveyor belt? Covered wagon? Crane? Combine harvester? Chair lift?

Robin: Nope none of them. Not even a Convoy.

 

[a few minutes pass as Strike, with a thousand yard stare, suffers PTSD with only the cigarette in his mouth twitching to show he’s still alive before he recovers]

Strike: Bugger… um, alright… let me use my trusty Cormarant lighter, ‘strike’ up another cigarette and we’ll go down the pub.

Robin: Won’t they find us there?

Strike: No way. This is London – there are loads of pubs!

Robin: But I found you there after knowing you only a few days. I’m sure they’ll –

Strike: – Well hopefully I’ll be so drunk by the time they find me I won’t care!

Narrator: SO CONTINUE THE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF COMORAN STRIKE AND HIS ‘WE’RE NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP NOR WILL WE EVER BE’ SIDEKICK! UNTIL NEXT TIME, SAME CORMORANT TIME, SAME CORMORANT CHANNEL!

THAT’S ALL UNTIL THE NEXT TIME ” COMORANt STRIKEs”!

Advertisements

NEXT TIME ON THE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF CORMORAN STRIKE!

Narrator: NEXT TIME ON THE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF CORMORAN STRIKE!

[Setting: Interior: Cormoran Strike’s office]

Robin: Cormoran, my secret… the reason I dropped out of university and only did temp work like some common working class criminal Luddite with only 24 GCSEs, 18 A Levels, a Duke of Edinburgh (with honours), a George cross for bravery and a GNVQ in Hospitality to my name is…

Strike: – You’re ginger? I mean I thought it was a bit of a piss take when your parents called their red haired daughter that to be honest. And what if you got sun burn on your chest? Let alone that time on the stairs when I grabbed your –

Robin: – No! Shut up! It’s because…

Strike: – Because you’re an underdeveloped two dimensional cliche written by an author who knew she would have a multi-book deal in order to flesh out your characterisation. Thus s/he only did a very basic introduction to us in the first book as if s/he has all the time in the world to do so later on?

Robin: … No and that’s a little too meta-narrative for me and my delicate, yet vastly superior to yours, feminine intellect which can only conceive of marriage and dresses (and getting qualified as a detective to take work away from you). It’s because…

Strike: – Wait, what was that last bit you muttered under your breath?

Robin: Oh, nothing… anyway my secret is…

[Suddenly a large hairy man leans in through the window knocking the wall down in the process due to his semi-gigantic physique]

Strike: … you’re a wizard Robby? Oh, wait, wrong series… and I wouldn’t know anything about that hidden wizarding world anyway… even if this office is located on Charing Cross Road, the same street as the Leaky Cauldron and, as a Muggle, I should be completely unaware of its existence… though, as a detective, I notice blatantly ‘wizardy looking’ people going in and out of that place constantly. Well at least you’re not from the village of On Pagford. There’s a bunch of wankers on the Parish council there…

Robin: No, it’s because…

[Suddenly another large bearded man, with a boy on his back, walks in]

Hodor: Hodor? Hodor, hodor.

Bran: Hi, I’m here for the meeting of literary characters with bird themed names.

Cormoran: No sorry mate, that’s later tonight across the street. (And anyway my name’s Cormoran not Cormorant. Irish giant not a bird...) You and beardy will have to go sit in the park and stare at the tree that kind of looks like it’s got a bleeding face for a while. Or the pub. I know a really tolerant pub nearby. But hold the door for the other big beardy bloke to leave first as he’s got something crawling out his pockets.

Hagrid: It’s a dragon’s egg…

Bran: A Targeryen!?

Hagrid: No, I’m a septuagenarian actually. Back’s been giving me right trouble recently…

[exit both large bearded men. One slowly dragging a torn off door behind him]

Robin: No! My secret is…

 

Narrator: NEXT TIME ON THE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF CORMORAN STRIKE!


I’ve seen a lot of misleading ‘next time’ teasers in recent years. I suppose that’s their purpose in a way but it can be very annoying when it’s a fake out such as the teaser includes something that gets cut away from before the ‘reveal’ moment or it’s the final moment of the next episode so in fact acts as a teaser not for the next episode but the one after that.

Old Women Falling Out by Daniil Kharms

Excessive curiosity made one old woman fall out of a window, plummet to the ground and break into pieces.

Another old woman poked her head out of a window to look at the one who had broken into pieces, but excessive curiosity made her too fall out of the window, plummet to the ground and break into pieces.

Then a third old woman fell out of a window, then a fourth, then a fifth.

When a sixth old woman fell out, I felt I’d had enough of watching them and went off to the Maltsev Market where I heard that a blind man had been given a knitted shawl.

 

by Даниил Иванович Хармс (Daniil Ivánovich Kharms)

(1937)

translated by Robert Chandler

This Is How Hunger Begins by Daniil Kharms

This is how hunger begins:

first you wake in good cheer,

then weakness begins,

and then boredom,

and then comes the losss

of the power of swift reason

and then comes calm –

and then the horror.

 

by Даниил Иванович Хармс (Daniil Kharms)

(1937)

translated by Robert Chandler

One Fat Man by Daniil Kharms

One fat man invented a way to lose weight. And he lost it. The ladies began pestering him, trying to pry out his secret. But the thin man replied that it becomes men to lose weight, whereas it does not become women at all; that ladies, on the contrary, ought to be plump. And he was absolutely right.

by Даниил Иванович Хармс [Danill Kharms] (Mid-1930s)

Translated by Eugene Ostashevsky

To The Lady Unwilling To Renounce Consumption Of Meat From Cherkassy by Nokolai Oleinikov

Madam, avoid beef.

It brings your stomach wall to grief.

It lays its seal onto your intestine.

Eating it will make you squeal from strife internecine.

 

Not so with rabbits. Their caloric play

Recalls a sunny summer day.

 

– by Nokolai Oleinikov (1932)

– Translated by Eugene Ostashevsky

If… by John Rice

If ships sailed on the motorway

And potato crisps were blue,

If football boots were made of silk

And a lamp-post wore a shoe;

If motorbikes ran upwards

And milk floats really floated;

It beds were full of boulders

And peas were sugar-coated;

If flies wore army jackets

And eggs laid little chickens;

If spacemen had a panther each

And insects studied Dickens;

If babies’ prams were motorised

And you listened to your conscience,

If life was always back to front

You wouldn’t be reading this nonscience!

 

– by John Rice