Hi, Lego Movie fans! I know all of you are starving for fanfiction. At the time of this writing, there are only 29 stories. This should make a nice number 30.

Like a lot of fans of the movie, I find myself drawn to the characters of Good Cop and Bad Cop. Unfortunately, not many fics on this site seem too interested in exploring the relationship between them. They are literally two personalities who have fought for control of the same body their entire life. That kind of situation has the potential for both relentless contempt and lifelong bonding. The nature of their employment to Lord Business also intrigues me, so I'll be exploring a little bit of that as well.

My update rate for this story is going to be quite a bit slower than my usual speed. I'm hoping to put up a new chapter every week, but I make no promises. Hence, I preemptively apologize for the way this chapter ends.

The Lego Movie has made millions in the box office. This story makes me nothing, and in fact, it advertises for the movie by making the fandom slightly more appealing. So, if the Super-Secret Police comes by an arrests me under the cover of darkness, you'll know it's not because of this fic.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The clock precisely marked off the passing seconds, adding sound to what would have otherwise been silence. A small army of plastic chairs arranged in neat, orderly lines filled the room. Featureless white walls brought the whole effect together, proving that even President Business's waiting rooms were organized to a fault. There were only two entrances, two doors facing each other from opposing walls. One led to the main hallway, where any occupants would have entered from. The other door presumably led to President Business's interviewing room.

Once, the room had been filled with people, just enough bodies to fill up all the chairs. Now, a single man sat quietly in the corner, wondering to himself where everyone had gone. He supposed it wasn't necessarily a bad thing that he was being interviewed last, but he was a little worried about those who had gone in before him. After all, while dozens of people had entered the interviewing room, he couldn't remember anyone coming out of it.

Pansies. They must have been too weak for the job.

The man swallowed a lump in his throat. He knew his other side was only trying to help matters, but honestly, nothing his Bad side said ever made him feel any better.

I wasn't trying to give you a touchy-feely boost to your self-esteem. That's not how I operate.

He hoped dearly that his Bad side would keep quiet during the interview. It would be difficult enough trying to talk in complete sentences in such a stressful situation, and he didn't need a voice in the back of his head criticizing every word that came out of his mouth. Still, if he was the last applicant left, didn't that mean he was practically a shoe-in for the job?

You're not going to get the job. Both of us know it.

He pressed a hand to his face, sighing away some of his stress. After a while, he mumbled, "Please, I need to do well at this interview. You want this job as much as I do, don't you?"

Yes, which is why you should let me talk to him.

He shook his head. "No, it's my turn. I don't take control during your turn. I can do this, just as long as I try hard enough."

Hmph.

At that point, a cheerful, feminine, and suspiciously robotic voice chimed in over the intercom. "Good Cop, President Business is ready to see you now."

He blew a long sigh out of his lips and got up out of his chair. Well, this was what it all came down to. The rest of his career, and perhaps the rest of his life, depended on what happened over the next few minutes. He took a moment to adjust his clothes, fixing the collar of the beige police uniform his Pa had let him borrow. He also made sure his gray helmet was still securely buckled on. When he was sure he looked the best he could be, he made his way to the appropriate door.

On the other side of the door was a sight he had never in his wild dreams expected to see. He'd anticipated a small, professional-looking room with perhaps a desk and a couple of chairs. Here, there was still an air of professionalism, but the dramatic, over-the-top flair easily overshadowed it. Red and black were everywhere, radiating the power and sophistication of the man who owned the place. A high ceiling vaulted over the long, symmetrical hallway. The hall was capped on one end by a pair of enormous, imposing doors, and the other end sported a large window that granted a very nice view of the afternoon sky. A few smaller doors stood along the walls, including the one he had just entered from, but they were so insignificant compared to the scale of the room that they seemed almost like an afterthought.

Chairs and desks were obviously too mundane for a room like this. Instead, about half a dozen pillars lined the walls, each supporting an art piece of some sort that President Business had no doubt collected with his wealth. Good Cop had a hard time classifying those objects as "art", however. They were strange and unnatural shapes, almost as if they weren't made out of bricks at all.

He was too dazzled by the sight of it all to notice the man approaching him. His attention was easily redirected, though, when the approaching man eventually spoke. "Last one, I see. It's been a disappointing day. Maybe you can tell me some good news?"

Good Cop's head whipped to the voice so quickly that it almost spun all the way around. "President Business!" He didn't have the mental capacity to say much else. It was one thing to find himself in the same room as the President. It was another thing entirely when the President wore a threatening ensemble of enormous, stilt-like boots, a billowing red cape that was far too long for anyone to wear without the boots, and a helmet that looked capable of puncturing a passenger jet.

"That's Lord Business, to you," the President corrected him.

Good Cop couldn't help but take a nervous gulp. He almost took a step backwards, but he suspected that action would only put President-Lord Business in a worse mood than he already was.

If you mess this up for us, I swear I will find a way to reach around and punch your lights out.

Ever-supportive, his Bad side was.

Fortunately, Business didn't seem too upset by the nervous behavior. He even let out an amused chuckle, laughing the whole thing off. "Don't act so terrified. You're doing great. A handful of other guys tried to make a run for it as soon as they saw me. It didn't save them, of course, and you're a lot smarter than that, am I right?"

Good Cop tried to imitate Business's chuckle with limited success. "I'm just a little surprised is all," he spoke up. "I thought one of your secretaries would be the one to interview me."

"Oh, I wouldn't trust these interviews with anyone else," Business remarked. "I want to hand-pick my police chief. It's a very important job, and I can't afford to let anyone mess it up."

Good Cop's eyes grew wide. Did he hear that correctly?

Police chief? Yes, you heard him right. If you mess this up now, I swear I will press your face to a stovetop as soon as six o'clock rolls around.

"The honest-to-goodness chief of police, sir?" Good Cop spoke up. "I thought I was only applying for a regular officer position. To be in charge of your entire force…aw, it's such an honor!"

"Really? You're one of the only people to think so," Business said, beginning to pace around Good Cop with slow, thundering steps. "It's a huge responsibility. The fate of Octan would rest on your shoulders from time to time. You might actually, ah…" He trailed off for a moment. "Crack. Under the pressure." He gave a sharp twist with his wrist to demonstrate.

"Oh, no sir, it might be a lot of responsibility, but it also has a lot of opportunities," Good Cop miraculously replied without missing a beat. "If I was only a regular police officer, then I would only be able to help out a single neighborhood. As the chief, I can help all of Bricksburg, maybe even the entire world."

Business suddenly stopped pacing, his heavy boots falling still. "Well, yes, but with every opportunity you get to help the greater good, you also get the opportunity to fail me. In a career that's this important, failure is not an option. Not an option you'd be able to take twice, anyways." He turned towards Good Cop and took one more step, his boot crunching down uncomfortably close to unsuspecting applicant. "You do understand that, right?"

"I understand, but I don't think you have to worry," Good Cop began, carefully side-stepping around the towering boot to give himself some breathing space. "I'm confident that I'll succeed at whatever job you give me, sir. I come from a long line of police officers, and I just graduated Octan University with a degree in Criminal Justice. I was near the top of my class, too."

The surprise from meeting Business in person had worn off at that point, but Good Cop still found himself fighting not to squirm under the President's calculating stare. After a few seconds, Business's one bushy eyebrow lifted in disbelief. "How are you still so enthusiastic to have this job?" He gestured a bit with his arms, as if trying to find a way to make his point without words. "Am I not being threatening enough? Am I being a little too subtle for you?"

Good Cop had naturally picked up on the threatening angle of this conversation some time ago, but he'd be darned if he let anything break his smile this late in the game. If he could prove to Business that he could keep a level head under this much pressure, then he'd get the job for sure. "I understand exactly what you're getting at, sir."

"No, I don't think you get it at all," Business answered. He paused to think for a moment before raising a hand to gesture to one far end of the hall. "You see that window over there?"

"Of course," was Good Cop's cheerful reply.

"Tell me what's so strange about it."

Good Cop leaned forward a bit and squinted, trying to pick out the detail that Business was looking for. It didn't take him long to find it. "You've left one of the bottom panes open."

He made to turn around and face Business again, but before he could so much as move, one of the enormous boots crashed into his back and pinned him to the floor. As his face pressed against the cold, plastic bricks, he desperately fought the urge to struggle. It would only make things worse, after all.

"Oh, I didn't just leave that window pane open," Lord Business corrected. "It broke off and fell out of the building when I tried to throw one of the applicants through it. That was the first applicant I interviewed, actually."

"Really?" Good Cop spoke, having a few issues breathing under the weight of the boot. "He must have done something big to get on your bad side like that."

Lord Business shrugged. "Eh, not really. He was a bit of a snob – a big ego and not very dependable. When I told him he failed the interview, he got snippy with me. Me, Lord Business! He was lucky just to get the chance to see the inside of my office, but then he had to be ungrateful about it. So, I gave him an all-expenses-paid trip to the Infinite Abyss of Nothingness."

That was right – President Business's office tower pressed right up against the edge of the city limits. Normally, the walls surrounding the city prevented anyone from accidentally wandering off the edge of the world and plummeting into the Abyss. However, throwing someone off the top of this monstrous skyscraper could easily circumvent that hurdle.

Business shifted the weight his weight slightly off of Good Cop before continuing. "The rest of the applicants worked out better, though. Instead of breaking the window all over again, I had my guards throw them through the hole."

"That's...very motivating, really," Good Cop wheezed.

"See, now you're starting to get it," Business spoke, lifting the boot off of his prisoner as he did so. "People never just 'do' what I tell them to do. I have to threaten them if I want anything to happen. But, if I threaten them and they still don't do a perfect job, I have to follow through and punish them so everyone else will still take me seriously."

Good Cop pushed himself off the floor and gave a small cough. "That's a very eye-opening look at politics," he commented. "But, that can't be all there is to it."

Careful.

"Oh really?" Business asked with narrowed eyes.

"You can't be threatening all the time. Sometimes, you need to be friendly," Good Cop said simply. "You're very good at being friendly, sir. Year after year, Octan keeps getting more and more popular, but it's not because your customers are afraid of you. It's because they trust you enough to buy your products and follow your instruction booklets."

Business put a hand to his chin, looking into the distance with thought. "You know, it would be a change of pace to have a henchman who knows how to keep the citizens happy." His expression hardened. "Though, you do understand that I'm hiring you to go after criminals, not make people feel better about themselves?"

Good Cop allowed a nervous grin to appear on his face. "It's a good thing there isn't a law that prevents me from doing both at the same time, then."

Lord Business did not respond right away. As he stared at Good Cop, his face slowly morphed from threatening criticism to something more akin to sneering disgust. It was as if Business had discovered that the applicant standing before him had suddenly transformed into a rather large cockroach.

You blew it.

Good Cop understood that he had just made a very costly mistake. However, he had a difficult time figuring out exactly what that mistake was. He'd clearly said something wrong, but-

You just implied that you care just as much about helping people as arresting criminals, which means you might slack on your police chief duties if it meant assisting someone that Lord Business clearly doesn't care about.

He would never do that! But, now that he thought back on his actual choice of words, he did seem to paint that picture for his President. "O-of course, the criminal arrest comes first," he said quickly, praying that he hadn't waited too long before saying it. As he had just been explaining, trust was a powerful thing, and he might have just lost Business's.

Lord Business resumed pacing around Good Cop, his eyes trained on the applicant in a powerful glare. "Tell me, Good Cop: do you really think 'police chief' the right kind of job for someone like you?"

"I honestly do," was the response. "I really feel like I was built for this job."

I was built for this job, you mean. You were obviously built for something else.

This was one of those times when Good Cop desperately wished that his Bad side would just stay quiet. All he needed was five minutes without a voice in his head tripping him up and killing his confidence at the worst possible times.

If I was the one talking to him, then we'd have Business handing us the keys to our new office by now.

He was almost too distracted by his Bad side to notice Lord Business scoffing. "You, of all people, think you were built for this job?" The man's shoulders shook with silent laughter. "Alright, then. Hypothetical scenario time. You find a bank being robbed, but just as you're about to go in, you get a call from me telling you to report back to the station immediately. What do you do?"

Good Cop crossed his hands behind his back unsurely. "Well…"

Report back immediately. This isn't rocket science.

Good Cop spoke softly, "If…you were on the phone with me, couldn't I ask you if reporting back this one time was important enough to let the bank get robbed?"

Business momentarily froze mid-stride at this unorthodox answer. When he resumed pacing, his footfalls now came a little faster. "Okay, good," he said. "But, how about this: a criminal has holed himself up in an abandoned building. You have enough robo-cops under your command to cover all the exits, but not enough to search the building. How do you go about apprehending him?"

Threaten to set the building on fire if he doesn't come out with his hands in the air.

After a moment of rocking back on his heels, he answered, "First, I'd start by promising not to arrest him if he comes along quietly, then-"

Lord Business groaned, throwing his hands in the air. "Seriously, are you that stupid?"

Good Cop, for the first time since entering the room, gave a tiny frown. "Well, I wouldn't actually follow through with it once he-"

"New scenario!" Business announced. "A Master Builder shows up on your doorstep, injured. All they want is somewhere to spend the night, and they say they'll be gone as soon as you leave for work. What do you do?"

His frown stayed firmly rooted on his face as he tried to puzzle out the answer. He hadn't learned much about Master Builders at the University, but he did know that they could supposedly build anything they wanted using bricks from the surrounding area. They were extremely dangerous, and many of them had participated in criminal activity. Lord Business's policy concerning them was likely, "get rid of them all as soon as possible".

The answer is obvious. If they're dumb enough to show up on our doorstep of all places, then we're going to arrest them.

Good Cop's eyes suddenly lit up with an inspiration that wasn't linked to his Bad side's plan in any way. It was an incredibly good plan, one that Business wouldn't be able to turn down. Sure, it was a little risky, but if he pulled it off right, it could result in the capture of dozens of Master Builders. "First, I would invite them into my house-"

"And that's all I needed to hear," the towering President interrupted. His heavy steps fell silent, and Good Cop couldn't help but notice that the man was now, strangely, about ten bricks away, a little too far for casual conversation. The President raised a hand to his face to amplify a shout. "Guards!"

Good Cop nearly jumped out of his skin when a loud bang sounded behind him. He whirled around to see that the ominous pair of doors at the other end of the hall had been thrown open. At least a dozen cops rushed through the doorway, but these were clearly no regular cops. Though they wore the appropriate uniform, their skin was made of metal, and each one's movements fell perfectly in sync with the cop next to them. As if a robotic police brigade alone wasn't enough to terrify him, at least half of them also carried a blaster in their outstretched hand, training it on their obvious target.

I don't know what to say to you anymore. We had only one shot at this, and you blew it to bricks. If I make it out of this alive, I will personally shove your side of the head into a vat of acid until your face melts clean off.

Good Cop's hands went into the air faster than he believed was possible. He knew this act of surrender wouldn't save him, of course, though it might delay the inevitable. His eyes tried to follow the robots as they approached, but that became very difficult once they completely surrounded him. They kept a bit of distance, though, probably unsure of exactly what their boss wanted from them. Still, they were close enough for Good Cop to see his own reflection in a few of their metallic faces.

Lord Business let out a chuckle. He wasn't disappointed or disgusted anymore. No, he was downright amused, a smug grin taking over the lower half of his face. Good Cop briefly hoped that this man would show mercy on him, but that idea was too ridiculous to consider for more than a millisecond.

"Put him with the others," Business commanded with dark joy.

You cannot possibly understand how furious I am with you. Even when we're about to die, you won't give me a fighting chance to save us both!

Good Cop knew he stood no chance at fighting off the horde of robots surging towards him. That being said, he also knew of someone else who had a much better chance than he did. He could only hope that this someone wouldn't be too angry with him after all of this was over.

He released the breath he'd been holding, took one last look at the incoming robo-cops, and let his Bad side assume complete control.