Jackson Cade stands in a disgusting alleyway, the sheriff looming over the motionless corpse of a vagrant. He examines him, a needle sticking out of his arm, a smile etched onto his face. Cade shakes his head, speaking into his radio.
“No signs of foul play, looks like a simple overdose. Send in EMT to collect.”
He speaks dryly, shaking his head.
“What some people won’t do to put a smile on their face, huh? Chasing that dopamine all through Arcadia until you land lifeless in the gutter behind the only dirty dive bar that’d have you. I’d call it abhorrent… But I pity people like you.”
Cade produces a pair of rubber gloves, putting them on as he searches the corpse for identification.
“Starts off small, doesn’t it? A bump here, a puff there. Before you know it you’ve become a bit addicted to the feeling. You don’t feel high, you don’t feel wired… You just feel better. Dopamine flowing freely through your veins and the party feels like it’ll never end. But, before you know it, you need that dopamine to even feel normal.”
He produces a wallet, empty of everything except for an ID. We can see the name ‘Charles’ printed in black.
“But normal isn’t enough, is it, Charlie? The smile on your face is so important, so addicting, that you just keep upping the ante. One needle becomes two becomes five as you try to fill that empty void in your soul. Chase the high while you can, just be sure that it doesn’t kill you, right?”
Jackson reaches up, closing the man’s eyes with a sigh.
“Mister Sunshine is a lot like you, I think. Mighty Mighty too. Both of those men are unable to live a single day without forcing unearned happiness into their veins. And, like Charlie here, I think that’s simply because the alternative? It frightens them. The thought that they may feel sad, scared, or hopeless is simply too much to bear. They’ve had a taste of happiness, a smell of the party, and they just do everything in their power to go back.”
The lights of an ambulance box close in from the distance.
“Just like this stiff they’ll spend their lives chasing that high at their own detriment. Sacrificing health and sanity to never feel anything but the ecstasy in their brains. And, just like every last addict in Arcadia who never learns their lesson, one day it’ll break them.”
Cade slides off his gloves, standing up.
“And when it finally does? I’ll be there. Gloves in hand, a look of pity on my face, and a body bag to place them in. The party’s over, your smile is forever etched into your skin, and your body grows cold. You died happy, but you died empty.”
He turns, taking his leave as the EMTs come to collect the body.
“No one is safe from their addiction.”
“No one is above the Law.”
“And in both cases? I am the Law.”
Cut.