Leviticus Helms/License to Clean

This was written by hand in my notebook; I'm still typing it in. --Woozle 22:26, 15 February 2008 (EST)

Intro

They say the world began as a giant molten blob, billions of years ago.

They say life began as a couple of molecules in the primal morass just happening to bump into each other in just the right way.

They say that life gradually improved over the eons by biting and scratching its way to the top, with the bigger and badder creatures surviving to pass on their genetic traits to their offspring, while the losers passed on into the graveyard of prehistory.

They say we humans got here simply by being the biggest, baddest, and most vicious creature of all.

Seems to me this makes us just a bunch of meaningless pieces of meat, eating or being eaten as we chase each other around and around in the little boxes we call our homes and offices.

Well...

I don't know about you, but that's not the kind of world I want to live in. I choose to believe in a better world, where we don't have to bear the guilt, and the responsibilty, for not making things all better, because we're all part of a bigger plan – where all the tragedies and stupid mistakes are just part of a higher purpose, in the biggest big-box business of them all, owned and operated by The Guy Upstairs.

That's the world I live in, and that's who I work for. I'm Leviticus Helms – Creationist Detective.

Part One

Leviticus Helms (voice over): 10:28 a.m. Got a call from Chief Berkeley -- thieves broke into the soap factory, stole ten thousand dollars worth of lye and potash, and drove off. I arrived at the scene with my partner, Frank Watson.

Frank Watson: Looks like a clean getaway, Lev.

LH: Yep.

FW: Except... what about that van over there?

LH: You mean the bright red one?

FW: Yeah

LH: With the tire tracks leading to it?

FW: Yep

LH: ...straight from the broken window?

FW: That's the one.

LH: [a beat] Hmm, could be significant. Let's check out the window.

FW: You don't want to look at the van first?

LH: I'm pretty sure it's a decoy.

FW: A decoy?

LH: That's right, Frank. Didn't you hear what the Chief said? He said the thieves "drove off", Frank. Those tire tracks and that van are here to test our faith in Chief Berkeley's word.

FW: Well... maybe he didn't know about the van, Lev.

LH: Now seriously, Frank -- you don't get to be Chief of Police by "not noticing" a bright red van at a crime scene.

FW: But Lev, he wasn't here, he was just relaying what the responding officer told him...

LH: Frank, are you questioning the truthfulness of our city's best and brightest?

FW: Well.... maybe he meant they "drove off" about 50 feet, and stopped over there, where that van is.

LH: Now Frank, you and I both know what "drove off" means. That van is here to throw us off the trail -- to sow dissent among us, get us started disagreeing and arguing with each other. To make us weak, and divided. You don't want him to succeed -- do you Frank? No, you don't. Neither do I. We'll show the perpetrators of this atrocity that we can be unified, and strong, and trust our leaders, and act together -- no matter what the facts might be.

FW: Well, when you put it like that...

LH: Now, let's take a look at that window.

FW: That would be the next most sensible thing to do, yes.

LH (voice over): Frank and I carefully inspected the broken window. After thorough analysis, it became clear that the evidence pointed to one thing, and one thing along: this dastardly act of cowardice had clearly been perpetrated by criminals.

FW: Gee, do you think so, Wally?

LH (voice over): Hush, Frank. I'm not done with the voice-over.

FW: Oh, sorry.

LH (voice over): I called for backup to have all exiting roads blocked and anyone entering or leaving the area to be detained for questioning at an undisclosed location. We also put wiretaps on all phones in the city, started a house-to-house search, and imposed a 6pm curfew. Anyone seen carrying soap, or soap-making materials, or looking suspiciously clean, to be shot on sight and held for questioning.

walky-talky voice: Roger that, Lieutenant.

FW: I dunno, don't you think that's a bit extreme for a felony, Lev?

LH: We can't afford to be soft on crime, Frank.

Part Two

LH: 11:48 a.m. Back at HQ I got a message that someone had left a tip. It was a dollar 98. Cheap bastard. Also, Al's Catering Service was having a "clean plate special" down at the local Vets' Association. It was nearly lunchtime, so Frank and I went down to check it out.

FX: dogs barking inside a room, other animal noises if possible -- mixed with the clattering of dishware and people talking as if in a restaurant

FW: What I don't get, Lev, is why they're serving a catered buffet lunch at a veterinarian's office.

LH: Well, Frank, this just shows it's a dog-eat-dog world out there.

LH (voiceover): Just then, I noticed something which set my hackles rising.

LH: Hey Frank -- don't these plates look... suspiciously clean to you?

FW: [a beat] Gee, Lev, I wouldn't think that's a problem... this is a public event where food is served; I think they're required by law to have clean plates

LH (steps on FW's last word): But not this clean, Frank -- not this clean. If this were just the normal diligence of Hispanic kitchen workers trying desperately to keep their green cards, then you might chalk this up to everyday ethnic cleansing. But this goes far beyond that. What we're seeing here is clear and irrefutable proof that the enemy posesses... weapons of mass dish-sudsing.

[dramatic notes]

LH (voiceover): 12:35 p.m. Back at Police HQ I started checking into this "Al Catering Service". Four hours down in the records office turned up zilch... except for a copy of Dark Side of the Moon with the sticker I was missing, and a highly questionable Paul McCartney bootleg, which I detained for questioning.