(got one shot left) video;
[There's a man in front of the camera, sitting at a metal table, hands folded on it's surface. Looking professional. An air of superiority hovers around him as he offers the camera a cold smile. He shifts in his chair, leans towards the camera a bit, and begins.]
Let me tell you a story.
[His voice is low and deep as he talks. It would almost be calming. But then again...]
I've grown fond of stories. Ever since a little [He pauses, searching for the word. He doesn't move his hands from the table.]
... a little incident. Anyways, the story begins in this room, yeah? Kind of a drab room. Boring. We all know the type, don't we?
[Another cold smile at the camera as he opens his hands. A gesture. As if waiting for the camera to reply. A frown flickers across his face after a moment.]
Of course we do. So this room. It's a drab room. Kind of gray. No, not kind of. It is grey. You know why it's grey?
[In an instant, his cold smile evaporates, immediately replaced with an bone-chilling stare. His tone becomes stronger. Less genial, and in a way-more threatening.]
It's grey because it was a fucking interrogation room. And you know why I was in that room? Because I'm a cop. I was a cop, in an interrogation room, and do you know what I was doing?
I was interrogating. And then- [He makes a 'poof' gesture with his hands]
All of a sudden, I find some robotic fuck-up talking to me. So, as a cop. What do I do?
Well, first of all, I start wondering who fucking slipped me some fucking drugs. Then I start thinking about where I'll fucking shoot said person who snuck me some fucking drugs. But then. A thought occurs me.
[He snaps his fingers]
I find a pointer. I say to myself: Now. That robot. That thing that talked to me. We don't have those back in my world, see? When we want to talk to someone we pick up the normal fucking phone. So I say to myself. I say "This isn't a phone. This is a fucked up grinning bitch." And I look around at all the tech. And you know what? We don't have that back home either.
So, what do I conclude from this? From these thoughts? Well. I think I just got kidnapped. And I don't really like being kidnapped, you know? It's not... [He trails off. Remains silent for awhile longer. And then he leans closer to the camera, narrowing his eyes just slightly.]
I am a very important man. I have very important things to do. I do not... appreciate being kidnapped. I do not appreciate any place that condones kidnapping. So, I'm going to change it. I'll set this place straight.
Because... [He sits back. The cold, humorless smile appears again. He opens his arms, ducking his head just slightly at the camera.]
I'm a good cop.
Let me tell you a story.
[His voice is low and deep as he talks. It would almost be calming. But then again...]
I've grown fond of stories. Ever since a little [He pauses, searching for the word. He doesn't move his hands from the table.]
... a little incident. Anyways, the story begins in this room, yeah? Kind of a drab room. Boring. We all know the type, don't we?
[Another cold smile at the camera as he opens his hands. A gesture. As if waiting for the camera to reply. A frown flickers across his face after a moment.]
Of course we do. So this room. It's a drab room. Kind of gray. No, not kind of. It is grey. You know why it's grey?
[In an instant, his cold smile evaporates, immediately replaced with an bone-chilling stare. His tone becomes stronger. Less genial, and in a way-more threatening.]
It's grey because it was a fucking interrogation room. And you know why I was in that room? Because I'm a cop. I was a cop, in an interrogation room, and do you know what I was doing?
I was interrogating. And then- [He makes a 'poof' gesture with his hands]
All of a sudden, I find some robotic fuck-up talking to me. So, as a cop. What do I do?
Well, first of all, I start wondering who fucking slipped me some fucking drugs. Then I start thinking about where I'll fucking shoot said person who snuck me some fucking drugs. But then. A thought occurs me.
[He snaps his fingers]
I find a pointer. I say to myself: Now. That robot. That thing that talked to me. We don't have those back in my world, see? When we want to talk to someone we pick up the normal fucking phone. So I say to myself. I say "This isn't a phone. This is a fucked up grinning bitch." And I look around at all the tech. And you know what? We don't have that back home either.
So, what do I conclude from this? From these thoughts? Well. I think I just got kidnapped. And I don't really like being kidnapped, you know? It's not... [He trails off. Remains silent for awhile longer. And then he leans closer to the camera, narrowing his eyes just slightly.]
I am a very important man. I have very important things to do. I do not... appreciate being kidnapped. I do not appreciate any place that condones kidnapping. So, I'm going to change it. I'll set this place straight.
Because... [He sits back. The cold, humorless smile appears again. He opens his arms, ducking his head just slightly at the camera.]
I'm a good cop.