The beach (where else?). Two dirty white guys are talking to each other next to a wall that says "BEACH FUN!" in big, festive letters.
Bad Guy #1: Hey, do you have the CRACK COCAINE?
Bad Guy #2: Yeah man, I got the CRACK COCAINE! Radical!
Bad Guy #1: Okay, let's find some kids to sell it to.
Bad Guy #2: Right, dude, and then we'll go shoot some handicapped nuns. Bitchin'!
Bad Guy #1: That is a RIGHTEOUS idea, man, and then we'll knock over some gravestones and deface the WWI Veteran's cemetery.
Bad Guy #2: That's a great idea, Bad Guy #2!!!
Bad Guy #1: Wait, I thought you were Bad Guy #2.
Bad Guy #2: (frowning) Hmmmmm...
(Suddenly ISDH bursts onto the scene, with a surfboard / machinegun / radar detector of some kind.)
ISDH: Freeze, punks! You're under citizen's arrest!
Bad Guys: (In unison) DARN! (Put their hands up)
Bad Guy #2: Hey, maybe you can help. Do you know which one of us is "Bad Guy #2"?
ISDH: (Thinking) Hmmmmm...
(Camera zooms in to a little boy who had been there watching the entire scene take place. He runs away, unseen by ISDH)
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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