INT. BAR -- NEW YORK CITY
Scene opens with Benson and Stabler entering a bar. The bartender's drying some mugs. They are all talking, but the bartender's being difficult.
Don't give me that bartender-patron confidentiality bullsh**. Let me make this simple for you: If [Redacted] met a girl he's planning on taking out a few times, fine, we walk. But if this was another one-night stand, we gotta know about it.
What part of One-Night Stand Unit are you unclear about?
What's the name again?
[Redacted]. He's about yea tall.
(holds up hand)
Hoodie, blue eyes, big hair. Drinker. Now, we know he left here
with a lady. Tell us about her.
The bartender acts put off by all the questions, like being questioned by two detectives from the One-Night Stand Unit was the most normal thing in the world.
Yeah, I guess he was in.
Look whose memory just improved. Stop with the guesses
and get to the facts, Beer Gut.
I want to see a receipt, now.
The bartender finishes drying a mug and takes out some credit card receipts. He finds [Redacted]'s.
There's a bunch of mango vodka tonics and bourbons on here.
Stabler shakes his head. Benson punches the bar, scaring both men.
The bastard! This has one-night stand written all over it.
Stabler leaves. Benson gives the bartender a lasting glance, just to let him know she might be back.
INT. [REDACTED]'S APARTMENT -- DAY
Benson and Stabler nose around. [Redacted]'s apartment has books and magazines and beer bottles all over the place. Stabler picks up a Ray Bradbury story collection.
Think he reads all this crap, or just does it to get laid?
On what planet does a Ray Bradbury story collection get you
laid? Up, here we go.
Benson picks up a scrunchie off the ground.
Well well well, looks like we have a Leave-Behind. Why do
women do this when it's obviously on purpose? "Oh, sorry,
I seem to have left behind my scrunchie." I mean, give me
Benson gives Stabler a look like he's the plainest ass in all the land.
Eliot. This thing costs 99 cents.
(holds up scrunchie)
She ain't coming back for this. She just forgot it. Besides,
it's [Redacted] who wants her back. Look in the kitchen.
They walk into the kitchen, where it's clear [Redacted] had made breakfast for two -- only someone didn't like their eggs.
Guy can't fry an egg very well. Look at that pan.
The pan is covered with blackened eggs. Benson is inspecting the lip marks on the rim of a wine glass.
Seems [Redacted] opened his wine for the lady.
Hmm ... [Redacted] only breaks out his wine when he really
likes the girl, right?
Stabler and Benson walk into the bedroom. The sheets are all over the place, a pillow's on the floor, and there's a condom wrapper on the bedside table.
Forensics, we've got a rubber.
Goddamn him! He's using those gross condoms they hand
out for free in the subway. Cheap bastard!
Benson puts on some plastic gloves and picks up the condom wrapper. It's not just a wrapper -- the condom is still in it, unused.
Eliot ... what the?
She holds up the unused condom. Stabler makes a face, like, "Get that away from me."
Nah. I think our girl got wise, left.
You're forgetting the eggs.
Benson notices [Redacted]'s laptop on the coffee table. She presses a button on it and it alights, opened to his Gmail.
Well well well, what do we have here?
Stabler takes a seat at the table and brings up [Redacted]'s sent emails.
You don't think the poor bastard ...
He's done it before.
Stabler's eyes get huge.
Benson squints, Stabler clicks on an outgoing email, from 4 in the morning the night before, to a "Melissa." The subject line is "where did you go?"
[Redacted] Guy is the resident Single Guy writer for Lemondrop. He refers to his penis as "The Special Victims Unit." He likes sci-fi and lives in New York.
Um, Melissa? I went in the bathroom to get a condom and
when I came out you were gone? I thought maybe you were
just having a smoke outside, but then I went downstairs and
you weren't there! I hope you're okay? Was it something I
said? Call me!
He's out of control. I'm going to book the hell out of him. One-
night stand, late-night email to someone clearly not
interested, cheap condoms, Bradbury story collections. This
has to stop, Eliot.
(into cell phone)
Fin? Yup, it's a go. Take him out.
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