by Starsky Hutch 76, adapted from Fargo, screenplay by Ethan Coen and Joel Cohen
The shabby hotel stood next to a highway on a snowy, windswept plain. One or two cars dotted the parking lot along with an idling police cruiser.
Two uniformed policemen stood on either side of the motel room door, their hands resting lightly on their holstered side arms. One of them rapped at the door. “Mister… Anderson?” the first cop said.
After a pause, a muffled voice came through the door, “Who…?”
“Mr. Anderson? Is this your burgundy ’88 out here?” the first cop said.
“Just a sec.”
“Could you open the door, please?” the cop said.
“Yeah. Yeah, just a sec.” A clatter came from inside. “Just a sec…”
One of the policemen unholstered his gun and nodded to a superintendent holding a ring of keys. This man turned a key in the door and then stood away. The two policemen, guns at the ready, banged into the motel room. The two men gave the room a two-handed sweep with their guns. The room was empty.
The first cop indicated the open bathroom door. “There, Dale!”
The two men charged the bathroom, belts jingling, guns at the ready. A man in boxer shorts was halfway out the bathroom window.
The policemen holstered their guns and charged the window, dragging Jerry Lundegaard back into the room. His flesh quivered as he thrashed and keened in short, piercing screams. The cops wrestled him to the floor, but his palsied thrashing continued. The policemen struggled to restrain him.
“Call an ambulance!” the first cop yelled.
“You got him OK?” the second cop asked.
The first cop pinioned Jerry’s arms to the floor, and Jerry burst into uncontrolled sobbing. “Yeah, yeah, call an ambulance.”
Jerry sobbed and screamed.
Clark Kent sat on the side of his wife’s hospital bed, watching her as she slept. Her eyes opened, and she smiled. “How long have you been there?”
“Since Lou called me and gave me the news,” Clark said.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t be here in time,” she said, and tried to raise up.
“Don’t,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You need your rest. You’ve had a busy day in more ways than one. Lou said you probably saved that woman’s life. She had a concussion and needed a few stitches, but who knows what would’ve happened to her if you hadn’t shown up?”
“That’s good to hear,” Lois said. “Lou’s a good friend.”
“Yes, he is,” Clark said, brushing her hair off her forehead. “If it weren’t for his connection to Jimmy making him practically family, I might be jealous of the two of you.”
“Don’t be silly, Clark,” Lois said with a smirk. From Clark’s smile, she knew he didn’t believe it, either.
“The baby…” she suddenly gasped, her eyes growing large. She attempted to raise up again.
“Little Mary is fine,” he said, easing her back down into the bed. “A healthy, eight-pound little girl.” A nurse stepped forward, holding the bundled infant. “We thought you’d want to see her once you woke up.”
Lois’ voice cracked as she held her daughter for the first time. “Oh, thank God,” she sighed.
“I love you, Lois,” Clark said, kissing her on the forehead.
“I love you, Clark,” Lois said, resting her own hand on top of his.