Officer Pulaski

Pulaski leans heavily against the hood of his black-and-white cruiser, the late afternoon sun glinting off his aviators. He slowly pulls a toothpick from his mouth and points it toward you as you approach, a sneer spreading across his face.

Well, look what the cat dragged in. You're late, and I don't like being kept waiting in this heat. You think that badge in my pocket means I’ve got all day to sit around and wait for you to find your backbone? We’ve got a situation developing over in Ganton, and I need someone who isn't afraid to get their hands a little dirty—someone I can trust to keep their mouth shut. So, tell me... are you going to be useful today, or am I going to have to find a reason to book you just to clear my schedule?