Trust me.
I know what I'm doing.
No pictures, no autographs.
Out of the way! Get out of my way you sods! Get a life! Oh, look, he's totally rad.
Oh, good, he spit on me.
He hit me on the chin! God, you're so lucky! Hello, love.
Get out.
I haven't got time for you tonight.
Get moving.
Now, you twit! We're going the wrong way.
You bloody idiot! You're going the wrong way, you stupid w*nk*r! Great, now you're stopping.
Why are you stopping, you fooI? You imbecile! You You! Why are you driving me? I thought I told you to get out of my life.
What a bummer.
Get your picture taken with a dead rock star.
Step right up.
Gimme the money later.
OK, stay in line.
One at a time.
One at a time.
BeautifuI.
He's really dead.
Get your picture taken with a dead rock star.
- Don't push, he's not going anywhere.
- OK, get rid of these lookie
-loos.
- Step right up
- What's going on here?
- Why don't you go dig up Elvis?
- I tried.
Do you want a picture?
- The party's over.
Everyone move on.
- Get in line if you want a picture.
Let's try a little crowd controI.
- Sledge, do you know who this is?
- No.
I'm flattered, but I don't know every dead body.
No.
This is Rak Vulture, he's a very big star.
Not any more.
He was in that heavy metaI band, The Plague.
Hey, this is the heavy metaI that made America great, Doreau.
According to the powder burns around this wound, I'd say he was sh*t at close range.
Could've been by the driver.
Yeah, or anybody else in his right mind.
Look at this, he's got a dog tag.
"If I'm lost or brutally m*rder*d, "return me to Jerry Vicuna, Electrocution Records.
"
- Must be his producer.
- Rock.
I'm gonna get to the bottom of this, Doreau, and you know why? Because this rock scene makes me puke.
You know what's responsible for the moraI degeneration of American youth? Rock.
Crime in the streets? Rock.
You look under any rock, you know what you find? Rock.
Let's find Vicuna.
Maybe I can catch him with incriminating evidence and blow him away.
- Then we'll clear the court calendar.
- Oh, Sledge.
- We're the police.
- You'll have to change your name.
There's already a group called The Police.
We're police officers.
We're here to see Mr Vicuna.
You can't.
He's in mourning.
He'll be in mourning for himself if he doesn't see us.
Boy, you are the police.
Second floor.
What the hell is going on? You tell me.
I thought you were in mourning.
I am.
She's comforting me in my hour of need.
Who are you two? We're detectives.
We're here to ask you about Rak Vulture's m*rder.
- Oh, I
- Gina, shut up.
Go in the corner and look gorgeous.
All right.
What do you wanna know about Rak? Like, who'd wanna k*ll him?
- For starters.
- Anyone would wanna k*ll Rak.
He was an animaI, plain and simple.
He once punched Mother Teresa in the mouth.
- That's terrible.
- Nothing compared with this.
I'm throwing a little dinner party.
Rak comes over, uninvited, of course.
He beats up half the guests, insults my wife and kids, he kills the dog, skins the cat, and ruins my entire art collection.
- What did you do?
- I told him, "Knock it off.
" All right, I'm tired of your fond reminiscences, paI.
That satanic noise you pawn off as music feeds on the minds of our young people, causing them to grow their hair, smoke funny cigarettes, and stay home all day watching that that NBC.
- MTV.
- Don't confuse me! Now, I want some answers.
Answers, music man.
Hey, man, unhand me.
I'm a saint in this business.
Now, listen, I hate this noise too, but I'm a businessman.
I have to make a buck.
I've been on this case two hours and already I feeI grimy.
Well, I've been in the business 12 years.
I've told you all I know.
If you want more, talk to the boys in the band.
They're downstairs rehearsing.
- Thanks.
Let's go, Sledge.
- Here's my card, if you think of anything else.
"Shirley's a*mo Dump.
I forgot, I don't have cards.
Thank you.
Gina, sweetie, if you're going to dance, turn on the music.
I find her very attractive.
Are they just tuning up? We're not tuning up, you buffoon.
That was our new single.
Rusty, make yourself usefuI, get me more coffee.
- Put a live snake in it.
- One with a cobra.
Yeah, get me one too.
More coffee, on the double.
I'm Inspector Hammer, this is my partner, Dori Doreau.
We're here to investigate Rak Vulture's m*rder.
Well, first of all, would you like to strip
-search me? Yeah, me too.
You've got great legs for a chick cop.
I'd love to do time with you, baby.
I see, it's gonna be like this.
- You wanna handle this?
- All right, vermin.
Just because my partner is attractive, it's no reason to hassle her, you got it? Thanks, Sledge, that helped a lot.
I'm a gentleman, Doreau, first and foremost.
Now, listen up, you dirty, filthy, fouI
-mouthed scum You ever thought about writing Iyrics? Yeah, how's this? I'm tired of your degenerate fun So you better tell me what you've done Or I'll blow you away with my g*n That was pretty good.
Coffee time.
Thank you, Rusty.
Now, shine me boots.
Your boots, man, I've already shined them.
Not the insides.
That's terrible.
Why do you treat him like that? Because they're rock musicians.
They eat their young.
- Now, talk.
- OK! What do you want to know about that snake, Vulture?
- You didn't like him?
- We hated him.
- Yeah, we hated the guy.
- He was a glory hog.
One time he gave us wrong directions to the concert hall, so he could perform alone.
Don't forget when he went on Nightline and told Ted KoppeI we sold illegaI arms to Iran.
- That's right.
- He treated us like fools.
You are fools.
But that's no excuse for that type of behaviour.
- Zippy, do a sound check.
- Righto, Rocket.
That sounded great.
Where were you the night of Rak's m*rder? You don't think we could k*ll anybody, do you? Yeah.
Now, why'd you do it? We didn't do it, but maybe his mum did, cos she hated him too.
If you're not going to bust us, constable, get out, we've got to rehearse.
We're going on a memoriaI tour for Rak.
We've even written a song in his memory.
We'll play it for you.
- They have compassion after all.
- One, two, one, two, three, four! The King is dead, yeah Someone k*lled Rak The King is dead, yeah They should have sh*t him in the back Oh, Rak, Rak, Rak, back, back, back Oh, Rak, Rak, Rak, back, back, back Now, that's entertainment.
Excuse me, as part of the procedure before you leave, I'd like to show you my bikini.
- Why would I wanna see that?
- I don't know.
No one's ever asked me that before.
Hammer, whatever it is, the answer's no.
- I haven't asked anything yet.
- Well, you were going to.
- What is it?
- You'll just say no.
- Hammer, what do you want?
- Doreau wants me to ask you for warrants so I can arrest the rest of that slime
-sucking rock band.
Hammer, I don't believe my ears.
You, Sledge, "Warrants are for wimps", want to arrest someone with proper procedure? What is a warrant? A warrant is permission to make an arrest.
Permission! These sleazoids are just about to leave on an escape from jurisdiction tour.
When? How soon? Sledge, their plane just took off.
Well, soon.
'The three remaining members of heavy metaI band, The Plague, 'are off on their 16
-city Fatality Tour 'in memory of their m*rder*d lead singer, Rak Vulture.
'We now cut live to the scene of their departure.
' Remind me never to use their traveI agent.
'This is terrible.
It appears that their plane has crashed.
'Gory details at 11.
' Well, you can forget the warrants.
We don't need warrants, habeas corpus.
Shut up, will you? These people have been hurt.
Wow, look at that.
This must be a devastating day for you.
- My deepest condolences.
- It was my bloody plane.
Oh you're referring to the loss of human life.
Yeah, that hurts too I guess.
Mind you, they were only technically human.
What're you crying for, paI?
- They treated you like trash.
- I know.
It was the best job I ever had.
Why weren't you on the plane? Oh, they made me hitch hike.
Have you got any idea what happened? Yeah.
The plane crashed.
Essentially, that's the long and short of it.
We won't know what happened untiI we see the black box.
Isn't that it? Oh, is that what this is? I was strictly keeping it as a memento of my employers.
Gimme that.
Come on, let's take this back to the precinct before the FAA gets their P
-A
-W
-S on it.
Sledge, I don't think we should, because the FAA is very sticky about this kind of stuff.
It always gets there after you do.
It's harder to open than Al Capone's vault.
Sledge, there's a proper way to open it.
I think you're right.
Hammer! How many times have I told you not to sh**t that damn thing in my office?
- Including this time?
- Yes! Mm, a lot.
Too many to count.
This is what I meant.
- Anybody could've done that.
- Let's turn it on.
They won't be laughing in a minute.
Shut up.
Sledge, have some reverence, they were human beings.
No, they were rock stars.
'And I'd like to make hot monkey love 'to that sexy little bobby, Detective Doreau.
' May they rot in hell! 'What the hell's going on here?' 'The bloody pilot just jumped out of the bloomin' plane!' 'I'm too young to die.
I haven't even been to Europe.
' 'You're from Europe, you pinhead.
' 'I'm so scared, I forgot.
' Well what do you think? It was better than their last album, and it wasn't an accident, it was m*rder.
A
- a
-a
-men
- Where's The Plague?
- Get out of it!
- Where's The Plague?
- Go on! Come on, sweetheart, get in here.
Wait a minute, wait a minute, I don't remember inviting you two in here.
That's OK, I don't stand on ceremony.
- Who was the pilot of that plane?
- I think they got some new guy.
Why? Because he jumped out of the plane and let it crash.
Doesn't that strike you as odd? If you were in a plane with those maniacs, wouldn't you jump too? He's got a point.
Your lack of remorse is detestable.
Is it because record sales increase after an artist's death? On the first account, Detective, they were not artists, and on the second, their fans are so wigged out, they don't know they're dead.
I know you'll cash in on record royalties now that those bozos are extinct.
Now, listen, I don't like where this is going.
All royalties go to their next of kin.
That is, if anybody admits to being their next of kin.
- Can you prove that?
- Yeah.
Look, I'm a businessman.
I have initialled contracts.
Stop this car.
Now, get out.
I have an important meeting at the office with the next Rak Vulture.
Pardon me, miss, but will you marry me?
- Get out!
- Sledge! And here, so there's no hard feelings.
Well, just what I expected from a sleazebag like that.
That we'd get nothing out of him? No, that he didn't give us compact discs.
Let's see what we got going here.
Born Fried.
Look at this.
Stranglers In The Night.
Hey, keep it down up there.
Hey, do you mind, people? I'm just spinning a few records.
- Well, cooI it.
- Inconsiderate.
Well, if we can't sh**t 'em, may as well listen to one.
Stuff on there.
.
.
while we valour I've heard better noises when Majoy had indigestion.
Maybe it sounds better backwards.
'I've been cheated.
' What is this? 'These are my songs.
'You'll pay for it.
'All of you will pay.
' All right, amigo, let's go find out which looney tune wrote these looney tunes.
- What do you expect to find?
- Some cold, hard facts.
And a cold hard body.
Vicuna's dead.
Boy, there are a lot of back
-stabbers in the record business.
Whoever wrote those songs k*lled Vicuna.
I'm gonna check those files
- see who those royalties are really going to.
They're not here.
Any on the desk? No, I don't see any Wait.
Here it is.
- Take a look at it.
- He won't let go.
It's a contract.
Managers, huh? Come on.
- Let's try this.
- Sledge, don't do that! Just because he's dead, doesn't mean I can't have fun.
- He's dead.
- I know.
I just Come on.
- Just read it.
- All right.
"Party of the first part of the second part fiduciary responsibility "In case of death, all money should be awarded to "Russell Canterbury, aka Rusty Vulture.
" Rusty, that roadie's name is Rusty.
He's Rak's brother! You may be onto something.
Let's go find that heavy metaI mentaI case.
- Excuse us, miss.
- Have you seen Rusty lately? Maybe.
Well, maybe this'll improve your memory.
No, it doesn't, but thank you.
Sledge, look! Come on.
Sounds like you're a little rusty Rusty.
I haven't been playing much.
I've been very busy, mate.
m*rder's a full
-time job.
m*rder? I don't know what you're talking about, ma'am.
Your own brother stole your songs, he got rich and famous and he met girls.
- Does that ring a bell?
- Oh, I admit it.
I wrote the songs that put my brother on top of the charts, but then the boys in the band, Jerry Vicuna, they promised me a bright future, but they wanted to rip me off as well.
So you k*lled them too.
Please, mate, let me give my own confession.
Now posing as the pilot was easy to do I just brought the plane up to a high altitude Then you got a parachute and jumped out the door I left those jerks screaming and hugging the floor And now they're dead, you see You k*lled all three And now with Jerry Vicuna, I had to get creative So you stabbed him in the back Oh, I love feeling elated Now you've got a record, five counts of m*rder one I don't think two more counts should bother anyone That might've been his first hit.
You just fired the sh*t heard round the world.
- Who're you talking to?
- No, nobody.
I was just looking over here.
Hammer, once again, I have orders to reprimand you.
I couldn't be in trouble
- my g*n's been in the shop a week.
I just got it out.
Wanna hear? Sounds like new.
- Put it away.
- It does impressions.
- Put it away!
- It can do a.
38, a.
45 and a.
22.
It doesn't like the.
22, that's just a little pop.
Put it away! Look at this.
Rusty Vulture cut a record from prison.
Let me see that.
I must've been the inspiration for this song.
- Why is that?
- It's Number One With A b*llet.