LESLIE NEILSON
The scene shows a dark office. Desks and tables can be made out, with lab equipment piled on top. Suddenly, the office door opens and the lights turn on. A janitor walks inside, whistling as he goes. The man picks something up off a desk, apparenly keys, tosses them into the air and catches them, and makes his way back out.
The lights go off and the door swings closed. The camera zooms in to the door handle, and sees that it's unlocked. It then moves to a nearby window, showing that the latch isn't hooked. The camera backs towards the center of the room, as a Mission: Impossible type theme begins to play.
The camera moves up, showing the ceiling, where a large air vent covered by a grate is seen. The grate slowly begins to lower, seemingly attached to a wire, and it falls carefully to the floor. A figure is then seen slowly lowering down out of the opening ... then quickly falling and CRASHING down on the ground!
Grunting is heard as the figure stands up and flails around towards the wall, where the light switch is. The lights come back up, and standing in the room dressed completely in black, holding onto a small draw bag, is Leslie Neilson!
Neilson: (narrating) After having found a strange substance during my initial investigating, I decided to have a sample sent to a connected friend of mine at the crime labs. Just around the time the tests were supposed to be back, I got word that my friend had been sent away to aid in a case.
Neilson: (narrating) Since requesting that a entry-level, no experience, mistake prone rookie to participate in any case is slightly unusual, I began to suspect that something was up. After my calls to the lab went unreturned, I decided to come in and see just what was going on here.
Neilson walks around the room, snooping at the different test tubes and beakers. He moves towards a shelf with a row full of beakers. He reaches out and inspects each one, reading their labels aloud.
Neilson: Hmmmm ... blood of a lamb ... sweat of a North African Llama ... tears of an Asian gohper ... Pepsi ... ah, nothing here.
Neilson moves towards a desk and pulls open a drawer, searching amongst the papers inside. He goes to another drawer, and pulls out a magazine. He holds up the magazine sideways and unfolds something in the middle!
Neilson: My, my ... is that ... Kimberly?! My goodness, Mr. Rude can certainly pick them.
Neilson stuffs the magazine into his bag and goes back to looking. He pulls open another drawer, and his eyes suddenly go WIDE!
Nielson: BINGO!
He reaches in and pulls out ... a bingo card. He inspects both sides, and then tosses it away. Finding nothing in the desk, Neilson moves towards another table. Testubes are collected in a holder on the table, and Neilson brings each one up and inspects them.
Nielson: Bill Cosby Paternity test sample ... no. Missing blood in the OJ case ... no. Urinalysis sample of Chyna ... no. Ah! Odd substance in missing WWF Manager case!
Neilson reads the numbers off the tube and sits down at a computer, placed on the desk. He types a bit, bringing up a screen, and then recites the code from the testtube as he types it in.
Neilson: Y ... R ... U ... wait! Why are you? ... it's a clue! What's the rest? Why are you ... TGV? Ahh ... a Russian clue, perhaps!
Neilson finishes typing in his "clue" and a new screen is brought up. Neilson reads the screen carefully, and quickly reaches for paper!
Neilson: Very interesting!
He scribbles down information from the screen and then stands back up ... when suddenly the office door swings open! A huge man stands in the doorway, looking UPSET!
Man: HEY! What do you think you're doing here?!
Neilson: Uh ... I was just ... looking ... uh ... for my magazine!
Neilson quickly pulls out the magazine he took from the desk earlier. The man looks from Neilson to the magazine, unsure as to what he should do.
Man: Um ... do you mind if I take a look at that?
Neilson: Not at all!
Neilson hands the man the magazine and watches as the large guard flips through the pages, eyes wide! Neilson takes the chance and rears back ... and PUNCHES the magazine, and the guard's face in the process! Neilson pulls back quickly, holding his hand in pain, but the guard seemingly feels nothing!
Man: Uh ... can I borrow this for a minute. This is one for the office, but the copier on this floor is broken, see and ... ah, why am I tellin' this to YOU?
The man turns and prepares to leave and Neilson STRIKES him on the back with a karate forearm thrust ... and again, quickly retracts in pain! The guard simply continues on his way.
Man: Hey, lock up when you're done, will ya?
Neilson: Uh ... of course!
The man disappears through the doors.
Neilson: (narrating) I'd gotten some valuable information from the computer. The substance found at the crime scene was a unique slimish material, usually found in laytex paints, pond scum, or hair cair products from eastern Europe.
Nielson: (narrating) Unfortunately, my list of suspects doesn't narrow a great deal from this discovery. A face-painted wrestler could have left the residue, just as easily as the Creature from the Black Lagoon, or perhaps a person with an interesting fondness for the latest European style tips. Although ... I do recall seeing a wrestler covered with paint not that long ago. Perhaps ... hmmmm. Definatly something to check out!
Nielson looks around ... pats his pocket with the information from the computer, clears his throat, and walks confidently out the door making sure to turn off the lights and lock up as he goes.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
