Good Cop: So, look, we got two witnesses that say you were outside the bank.
Suspect: Doesn’t mean I did shit?
Good Cop: I guess, but, you work with me, I’ll work with you. I’ll let the D.A. know you were cooperative.
Suspect: I know this routine. You’re the good cop and this sad looking asshole is the bad cop.
Good Cop: No, he’s not the bad cop. He’s my partner Fitzy. I got stuck with him. He’s not bad, but frankly, as you noticed, he’s depressing as hell to be around.
Suspect: Well, does he even talk?
Good Cop: Detective Fitzgerald, he’s more the quiet type, but, trust me, once he gets talking, he will depress the shit out of you… ain’t that right, partner?
Existential Crisis Cop: No, I’m not depressing. I’m just addressing the larger picture about life.
Good Cop: We got a real Socrates over here.
Existential Crisis Cop: Of course, be dismissive of me like you always are, Larry.
Good Cop: Well why you always moping around looking for “the answer” and shit?
Existential Crisis Cop: Well, Larry, some of us are interested in what’s deeper in life than barbecues and ballgames.
Good Cop: Perp, you got any idea about Fitzy’s mumbo jumbo.
Existential Crisis Cop: Me asking bigger questions isn’t “mumbo jumbo.” Exploring the depths of human reason, I mean, what else are we here for? “I think therefore I am,” right?
Suspect: Well, I like barbecues and ballgames.
Good Cop: See, maybe you and I should be partners.
Existential Crisis Cop: What are you even talking about, Larry? What am I doing that’s so depressing?
Good Cop: Well, the last guy we had in here, you didn’t ask him a single thing about the crime. You asked him what he thinks life means and if he thinks dogs ask themselves the same question.
Suspect: Huh, I wonder if dogs do ask themselves if their lives have meaning.
Good Cop: Now, enough with Fitzy’s intro to philosophy B.S. Like I said, perp, I’m here to help you, but you gotta help me first.
Suspect: Well, we all know that dogs get lonely, right? And, they definitely have emotions–fear, sadness, etc. So, why wouldn’t a dog also think, “What am I doing here?”
Existential Crisis Cop: Yes, but dogs have–and pardon the on-the-nose application of this expression–many Pavlovian dog-like responses to all kinds of things. It suggests a robotic-ness that does not imply a deeper longing, no?
Suspect: Hmm, I don’t know.
Existential Crisis Cop: Can I ask you something? What made you show up at that bank today? And, don’t say “money.” There’s gotta be something more than that driving you.
Suspect: I think it just seems like being a regular working schmoe–that just seems like it sucks, right? Only someone who doesn’t get the impermanence of life thinks it needs to be spent clocking in 9 to 5.
Existential Crisis Cop: So, what you’re looking for is to free yourself from the typical entrapment of the march of time spent doing pointless work… pushing a boulder up a hill, if you will?
Suspect: Yeah, like a boulder up a hill, exactly. There may not be much point to robbing a bank, but there sure is no point in doing some customer service rep job you hate.
Existential Crisis Cop: Let me ask you, what were you thinking when you were sitting in that getaway car today?
Suspect: When I was in the getaway car, I was thinking–
Existential Crisis Cop: “I’m under arrest, because I just admitted I drove the getaway car.” Oh, that wasn’t what you were thinking? Well, too bad, because you just fell for the old “Good Cop, Existential Crisis Cop Routine.” Larry, book this clown.
Good Cop: Fitzy, I don’t how you do it. You’re a friggin’ genius.
Existential Crisis Cop: Well, next time we’ll try the old “Good Cop, Metaphysical Conceit Cop Routine.”
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