Sam & Max One-Shots

Freelance Freelance Police

*Warning: non-graphic depictions of blood*

The Desoto pulled up to a screeching halt on the side of the road. The engine quietly puttered out, the newfound silence weighing heavy in the car. Sam and Max looked absently at the looming building, the large red spray-paint on the wall stared back at them.

"What does that say?" Max spoke, his eyebrows furrowed as he squinted at the words.

"You're dead." Sam replied while adjusting his tie before resting his hands back on the wheel in front of him.

Max scoffed, tilting his head slightly to the side and crossing his arms firmly across his chest. "A little harsh aren't we, Sam?"

Sam rolled his eyes before pointing towards their office, stating that he was only reading what the words said. He thought he'd make himself clear, despite the fact he knew Max was only pushing his buttons.

"I don't understand what's so scary about a death threat," Max turned to his partner, "we get those all the time! Hell, I stopped counting during my second impeachment."

Sam leaned backwards in his chair, sighing as he sunk into the fabric. "You know that's not the problem, Max."

After their last case four months prior, the two faced a onslaught of weird events: broken windows, missing papers, break-ins, threatening phone-calls. They didn't think much of it at the time, of course, since their line of work gave them absolutely no shortage of disgruntled enemies. That changed abruptly though when they got an ominous phone call from the Commissioner who, quite bluntly, stated that they were in serious danger. They were put on a 'potentially permanent leave' for their own well-being until the 'issue could be resolved'.

In short, they were temporarily fired.

The two idled still glaring up at the red ink. "Sam."

"Yeah, little buddy?"

"If we don't get a new case soon, I'm gonna go trigger happy on the first thing I see." Max looked at Sam, a big smile on his face yet his eyes were wide and empty.

Sam chuckled. "I might join you."

Horribly bored, there wasn't much the two could do besides drink, eat and play poker. Even 'accidental' property damage and less-than-legal explosions somehow lost it's whimsy over time. Overwhelmed by a terrible feeling of ennui, they resorted to sitting outside the office desperately waiting for something interesting.

Their office window was wide open, giving them a clear view of their old desks which were slowly gathering dust. Sam continued to stare longingly as Max rummaged through the back seat hoping to divert his attention.

Suddenly, a flash of bright orange whipped past the window catching Sam off-guard. He quickly reached across the passengers seat, pushing Max all the way into the back, and propping his hands up against the glass.

"There's someone in our office!" Sam shouted.

Max squealed, a bright smile forming on his face as he shoved himself back into his seat and joined Sam at the window. "Really? Let me see!"

They both watched in anticipation.

Waiting...

The figure zipped past once again.

"Sam!" Max called, frantically grasping for the door. "We can't just let them go through our office!"

"But we aren't supposed to-" before he could finish, Max threw the door open causing them both to fall against the chipped concrete of the street. Max promptly stood up then yanked on Sam's suit in an attempt to make him move faster.