INT. POLICE STATION LATE AFTERNOON

Dimly lit interrogation room. FRANK JACKSON sits at table with a begrudging, angry look on HIS face. MS. DOROTHY ADAMS, a State Prosecuting Attorney, leans into the microphone, located on the other side of the glass wall, separating the interrogation room from the rest of the police station. FRANK JACKSON glares at HER.

DOROTHY ADAMS (more telling, than asking)

Mr. Jackson, may I speak with you?

FRANK JACKSON (rude)

Do I have a choice?

MS. ADAMS sits down in a metal folding chair, at the desk located near the microphones. She once again leans into the microphone.

DOROTHY ADAMS (condescending, stern)

You always have a choice, Frank.

FRANK JACKSON (sarcastic, disrespectful)

Are you trying to imply something, Ms. Adams?

DOROTHY ADAMS

I’m simply saying that you always have a choice in life.

FRANK JACKSON

No you don’t.

DOROTHY ADAMS

Why do you say that?

FRANK JACKSON (irritated)

Do you think it’s my choice to be in here? Do you think this is what I want? To be locked away for the rest of my life? To be degraded to the level of vermin? That’s not what I want!

DOROTHY ADAMS

Well, Mr. Jackson, you should have thought about that before you decided to kill humans. That was your choice. And, consequently, that choice led you to this place, and life in prison.

FRANK JACKSON slams HIS fists on the table. He leans HIS head back, sighing heavily. Then he looks back up at DOROTHY with a menacing, threatening smirk on HIS face.

FRANK JACKSON (threatening but nonchalant)

Well, Ms. Adams, I suppose it is a good thing that I’m in here for life.

DOROTHY ADAMS (slightly uneasy, but curious)

Why is that, Mr. Jackson?

FRANK JACKSON stares DOROTHY straight in the eye, a cruel, sick look in HIS eyes and on HIS face.

FRANK JACKSON (menacing)

Because, Ms. Adams, if I weren’t, you’d be the first one to go when I got out.

DOROTHY stares, slightly shaken. Then SHE gets up and pushes in HER chair. SHE leans into the microphone.

DOROTHY ADAMS (seemingly unaffected, polite)

Good day, Mr. Jackson.

DOROTHY turns HER back on FRANK JACKSON and walks over to the POLICE OFFICER standing near the exit.

DOROTHY ADAMS (informative)

I am done here, Officer. Thank you.

OFFICER nods HIS head once.

OFFICER (politely)

No problem, Ms. Adams.

DOROTHY opens the door and exits the police station.