Back in the day, me and @damn_cyborg would write a shit-ton of stupid stories about two impossibly inept police officers Morin and Haze. Recently, we reminisced about these shitty characters and decided to continue their incompetent adventures. Here's a story I wrote today.

Prologue

In the distant future... 2010... the world has become overrun by ignorant, lower class black people. And fat, dirty Mexicans. They exploited the government's welfare system until the country's economy crumbled. People were left homeless and outnumbered as jive-talking hoodlums and ghetto Mexican families ruled the streets. The blacks would wage war with the hispanics who refused to learn the English language, for control of the walmarts. The educated white minority faced extinction, until one man taught them how to fight back, and crush las cucarachas y los personas negros en basura. His name was Reynolds. Ryan Reynolds.

In a last ditch effort to change the future, the blacks and Mexicans would join forces to eliminate the white minority for good, and remove any trace of a comprehensible dialogue, by capturing the time-displacement equipment (that the white people built) and using it against them. They would send back the ultimate assassin to infiltrate the caucasion resistance, and take out Reynolds before he could ever lead the white minority to victory. They would send... The Morinator.



Chapter I

1:52 am, Los Angeles. 2010. In a dark alleyway, the wind picks up. The scattered garbage is cleared away by a gust of wind as sparks of electricity fill throughout the alleyway. Dubbed burps and farts become audible as a strong force tries to break wind into our time. A giant sphere manifests, and in a flash, it is gone. Standing in its place is a garbage can on wheels, with tube vents for arms, a face that's clearly painted on the front, and a blond wig on top. It can barely even function as it fills the air with an excessive amount of exhaust. Ominous music plays as it rotates to the left, then to the right, as it scans the area. Clunkily, it moves to the edge of the nearby cliff overlooking the city, and looks over the glowing nightlife...

In an observation deck, three juvenile punks are drinking beer and bickering amongst each other. They all take notice as something stupid approaches them, with punk #3 wondering, "What's wrong with this picture?"

The garbage can incompetently wheels closer. A hobo casually passes it as it wheels along, lifting its top and throwing in 4 empty cans of beer. The garbage can stops to allow this, though the exhaust bothers the man and he casually leaves, indifferent. The garbage can then wheels up to the punks and stops before them.

"Garbage day tomorrow," punk #3 explains, "not enough trash, right?"

"No mas basura, si?"

Punk #2 peers into the garbage can. "Hey, I think this guy's a couple cans short of a six-pack!"

"Su ropa. Les dan a mi, pronto."

"Fuck you, asshole," punk #2 says as he casually kicks the garbage can over. It lays like a turtle on its back as the three punks casually walk away...



Chapter II

9:58 am. Outside of the police precinct, Officer Sparks Morin pulls up to the station riding a tandem bike with two flat tires by himself. He can barely ride it solo, and almost falls off as it tries to dock it in the bike rack. Morin is wearing sunglasses, a fake handlebar mustache, and an unkempt police uniform.

Inside the station, he passes through the corridors until he finds his office: a dark broom closet with a busted door covered with pictures of 80s hair metal bands and men with prominent mustaches--hardly appropriate for police officers. He enters the closet and is immediately hit by some falling sugar packets, which the closet seems to have an abundance of. Morin moves to his chair and wipes several packets from his chair as he sits, clearing more sugar packets from his desk as he checks his work agenda for the day, which has a single entry: beat at least one game of solitaire. This unnerves him, and he grabs his radio.

"This is one-L 19, I need assistance in a game of solitaire. Over."

The radio responds, "This line is for emergencies only. Please switch to another channel. Over."

Outside the closet, Detective Reynolds passes, and Morin asks him, "Reynolds! Have you seen Haze?" Reynolds blatantly ignores him and continues off. Morin complies to the radio request, switching through channels to hear spanish music on most every other channel, until he hears a familiar voice: "Gimmuh two happuh millz, chee' b'rger wit freedom fry 'n orange drink."

Outside the McKnobs drive-thru, Detective Haze waits without a car, holding up the line as he speaks into his police radio, trying to get a response. He is wearing purple pants, a yellow dress-shirt, a fake mustache, and an obvious bald cap. Cars behind him are honking as he is holding up the line. He toys with his walkie-talkie, trying to find the frequency for this fast food restaurant, while the cashier in the window tries to guide him inside to order. Haze wont listen.

In the station, Morin is annoyed and radios back, "Haze! Stop trying to order drive-thru on your police radio! It doesn't work that way! Haze? Haze?!" Morin gets up and storms out.

Leaving the station, he heads to his tandem bike, but it has since been stripped. "Not again!" he complains, as he kicks the damn bike, and it crumbles even more. Hopeless for the bicycle, Morin heads out after Haze...

Meanwhile, Haze keeps switching radio channels and shouting "chee'burger!", but to no avail. The cars continue honking as the line wraps around the building. The honks and insults have become overwhelming, while Haze continues to grow angrier, going as far as pulling his gun out and aiming it at the car behind him. However, the customer is left utterly confused, as Haze's gun is simply a banana, which Haze believes is threatening. The annoyed customer behind him inches closer and closer as Haze gets more and more tempted to pull the non-existence trigger of his banana. Suddenly, Reynolds can be heard, whistling to Haze. Haze sees Reynolds holding a happy meal. Haze moves towards the happy meal, as Reynolds lures him away from the angry crowd...



Chapter III

10:36 am. A bum wheels his shopping cart past the observatory. The blonde Mexican garbage can is still laying there. The bum sets it up upright and looks into it, taking the empty cans out of it and puts them into his shopping cart, and wanders away...

Haze sits alone, eating his happy meal at a picnic table. Morin casually walks over, annoyed as fuck, saying "We need to get back on the beat. Somewhere, there's a crime happening." Haze blatantly breaks the law as he throws his garbage next to a waste recepticle and follows Morin.

The two reminisce as they pass graffiti on the walls. "These goddamn punks have been destroying our city," Morin explains, "They busted all the security cameras before we could even catch a glimpse of them."

Haze begins to wonder with his feeble mind, "If onluh we knowed war dey were befo' dey commit da crimz... if onluh we'z could'ed has predict rhere dey strike."

"If only we had a time machine..."

Haze thinks way back. "Didn't we has time displace machine back in episode 3?"

"Hey, you're right," Morin recalls. "We used it to hunt for some guy for some reason I can't remember. Wouldn't it be great if we could use that time machine again?"

"If only we hads time machine, we could go back to episode 3 and use da time machine to predicts da punks next move."

"Now you're thinkin' with dynamite, Haze. But how the hell did we ever get that time machine in the first place?"

"I still has all dem ol' scriptz fo' our old episodes on muh com-poo-ter. We'z ought to go back to da office and finds where dey at, and see if we can reverse engineer da time machine."

Morin nods, and the two head back to the station, casually passing the punks they seek...



Chapter IV

In the office, Morin and Haze approach their closet/office and notice their computer has fallen off the desk, and the monitor is broken.

"Goddamnit!" Morin yells.

"What happen to 'puter, Morin?" Haze asks.

"I lost another game of solitaire and took my aggressions out on the computer. Next time, it'll know not to fuck with me, Sparks J. Morin."

"Jea. But we'z ought to fix it, so we'z can find dem ol' scripts and build da time machine."

Morin sets it upright and the screen flickers. Morins hits it a few times, but it doesn't work. "Let me try mine," Haze says, as he pulls out a hammer. He beats the monitor a few times, but it somehow fixes the screen. Morin then sifts through lots of porn, until he comes across all the old Morin and Haze scripts.

"Here it is... episode 3: Not Dirty Harry," Morin reads through. "So many fucking words in this shitty script... ah, here it is. According to this script, we just walked into a building a time machine just *happened* to be there. So we ought to do that..."

"Okay. I'll brin' da hammer, so we can hit da machine 'til it work for us."

"No, you idiot!" Morin explains, "Last time, we caused a paradox because we didn't know how to use the damn thing. You just kept hitting it with a hammer and I pressed what was clearly the *wrong* button. If we want to solve this case, we need to act competently."

Confused, Haze drops the hammer and agrees.

"Now where the hell can we find a time machine?" Morin wonders.

"We'z just ought to take a walk around da place and see if we finds one."

The two step out of the closet, closing the door behind them as they look down both ends of the corridor. Haze immediately turns around and opens the closet again.

"It's not in her," he explains.

Morin and Haze wander off...



Chapter V

Reynolds is driving his squad car as the radio sounds off. "All units, be on the lookout for a hispanic blonde motorized garbage can emitting an excessive amount of exhaust. He is wanted for pollution and littering."

The Mexican garbage can wheels along an overpass, hearing the same radio signal, and stops. It turns to look below, noticing a dorky jogger with a jew-fro/perm on his way to pass under the bridge. "Ay caramba!" the robot voices, as it backs up, and wheels quickly towards the wall of the bridge, crashing into it and going over the edge. The garbage can falls off the overpass as the dorky jogger arrives, crashing directly on top of him, killing him as he lets out a wilhelm scream. However, the robot garbage can has difficulty getting upright again...

Back in the police station, Morin and Haze continue to check every single closet, hoping to find a time machine.

"Fuck this. I don't think we'll ever find a time machine."

"Den we never finds da vandals who ruin da city."

"Well it's not our fault we can't find a time machine," Morin explains, "Someone smarter than us should've built one already."

"Maybuh dey will in future, 'n sends back to we, in deze time."

"Yeah, well we can't just waste this whole episode looking for a time machine that clearly doesn't exist. We'll have to find a way to solve this mystery realistically," Morin proclaims.

Reynolds returns, heading to his office. "Don't forget to keep an eye out for that blonde, motorized garbage can thingy," he says, rolling his eyes at the stupidity of it all.

Haze turns to find a door with the words "Time Masheen" on it, and points it out to Morin, "Maybe we'z use dis time machine to go back to earlier, 'n tell we-selvez not to bother lookin' fo' da time machin'. Dat will'ed save us some time, den we can get back to our important affairs."

"Good idea, Haze."

The evil Mexican garbage can passes through the corridors of the precinct, arriving to Morin and Haze before they enter, though it is different. It is now wearing the dorky jogger's perm hairdo.

Morin takes a curious look at this blatant garbage can, but doesn't quite piece it together. The Mexican garbage can asks, "Donde esta DETECTIVE REYNOLDS?"

"No speak-y spanish. But Detective Reynolds does, so go ask him," Morin responds. He hands the garbage can a packet of information, saying, "Here's his home address, phone number, email address, social security number, passport, and bank account info."

The crappy robot replies with, "Gracias, tonto," and heads off. Several sticks of dynamite fall out from behind the poorly constructed machine as it wheels off, clouding the hallway with its poisonous gas. Morin tries to clear the gas, noticing the sticks of dynamite and picks them up. "Sir, you dropped these," he says, as he returns the dynamite to the garbage can, which replies with "Si!", before continuing off.

"Dat mean yes," Haze states.

"I know that. I'm not stupid," Morin explains, coughing from all the carbon monoxide. The two enter the room with the alleged time machine...


Epilogue

The Mexican garbage can caught up with Reynolds and blew him the fuck up. The explosion debris trapped Morin and Haze in the room, though they were eventually able to tunnel out to safety. Then they got hit by a bus and died.

The End.