THE_BOLSHEVIK is Framed for a Crime He *Didn't Commit*

THE_BOLSHEVIK is working on some unknown project. Kris casually walks up to him.
Kris: "Hey, THE_BOLSHEVIK, can I see your hand for a second?"
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "What? Sure. It's a nice hand, isn't it?"
THE_BOLSHEVIK extends his hand. Kris grabs it and rubs THE_BOLSHEVIK's fingertips on the handle of a large knife with small amounts of blood on it.
Kris: "Thank you."
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "Waitwaitwait. What was that? Why did you just put my fingerprints on a bloody knife?"
Kris: "I do lots of things, THE_BOLSHEVIK. You can't expect me to remember one small aspect of my day."
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "Where did that knife come from?"
Kris: "You know, it's just a normal, commonplace butcher's knife."
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "With blood on it."
Kris: "Normal, commonplace blood."
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "...Kris, are you framing me?"
Kris: "Framing is such a harsh word, THE_BOLSHEVIK. Let's just say I'm...reallocating responsibility."
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "Responsibility of what?"
Kris: "Don't you worry your pretty little head about that. Now then..."
Kris delicately places the knife into a shipping envelope.
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "Hey, hold on there! Who are you sending that to?"
Kris: "Nobody important. Just the proper authorities."
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "Proper authorities?! No! Kris, I can't allow you to do this."
Kris: "Hm?"
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "Give...give me that!"
THE_BOLSHEVIK tries to grab the envelope.
Kris: "Hey!! What do you think you're doing?!"
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "I'm protecting my own hide!"
Kris: "THE_BOLSHEVIK, do you know what the penalty for tampering with evidence is?"
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "Well, to be honest, it's very subjective, dependent on three factors; the severity of the crime in which the evidence is involved, the nature of the evidence in relation to the crime, and the degree to which the evidence was tampered with."
Kris: "Yeah, well, I can tell you, that the punishment for tampering this is me. Killing you. With this knife....which belongs to you."
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "But it doesn't belong to me!"
Kris: "These fingerprints seem to say it does."
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "But they're not naturally put on. They're...you know what? Do what you want. Send it in. I believe in the justice system. No judge in America is going to believe that I'm a killer."
Kris: "Oh, I think they will, especially after your taped confession."
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "What taped confession? I never..."
Kris pulls a recorder from his jacket. He rewinds slightly and presses the PLAY button.
Recorder: (Playing what THE_BOLSHEVIK had said moments prior) "I'm a killer."
Kris: (Smiles smugly.)
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "...Now, that means nothing. A simple phrase like 'I'm a killer' can mean...can mean anything depending on the context. It's not like I was saying something specific like 'I murdered people with that knife.'"
Kris rewinds the recorder and presses PLAY.
Recorder: "I murdered people with that knife."
THE_BOLSHEVIK's usually wide eyes narrow. Kris places the recorder into the envelope.
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "Kris, can we come to some sort of agreement?"
Kris: "Fifty thousand."
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "No, I meant an agreement where I don't have to pay you."
Kris: "That's not how the game works, THE_BOLSHEVIK."
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "I don't like this game. This game has my life on the line."
Kris: "That's why it's called 'The Most Dangerous Game.'"
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "Wasn't 'The Most Dangerous Game' about hunting humans for sport?"
Kris: "Eh, semantics." (Takes out a clean knife.) "Now, do you want this done slowly or painfully?"
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "Um, I suppose....hey, is that Morgan Freeman?"
Kris: (Turning around, excited) "Where?"
THE_BOLSHEVIK suddenly clamps a rag onto Kris' mouth. Kris struggles, but soon falls unconscious.
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "Wow, I guess it's a good thing I didn't wash that chloroform-soaked rag after all."
THE_BOLSHEVIK drags Kris's body out of the room. Cut to scene of THE_BOLSHEVIK, visibly winded, dragging Kris' body to an office. A police officer steps out.
Police Officer: "Eh? What's this."
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "Oh, thank God you're here, officer. My best friend here, he's evil. He tried to kill me."
Police Officer: "Oh? He looks as though he's sleeping like an angel."
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "Don't let his beauty fool you, I think he's done someone in before! Here, I brought this proof!"
THE_BOLSHEVIK hands the police officer the mailing envelope.
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "That holds the bloody knife from one of his previous crimes."
Police Officer: "Okay, so if were to scan this knife, we'd find his fingerprints on it?"
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "Well, I...actually, um, it has...um, mine."
Police Officer: (Taking out the recorder) "And what's this?"
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "Oh, don't listen to that!"
The police officer skips to random parts in the recording.
Recorder: "...Kris, I can't allow you to do this...I'm protecting my own hide...I'm a killer...I murdered people with that knife..."
Police Officer: "..."
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "..."
Police Officer: "..."
THE_BOLSHEVIK: (Smiling pathetically) "Hehehe. You know, we sound quite similar. I'm...I, uh, oh! Look at the time! I'm late for my volunteer job at the hospital for...sick, um, orphans. I'll...I'll just be going."
As THE_BOLSHEVIK begins to walk away, the police officer cuffs him.
THE_BOLSHEVIK: "Dag, yo!"

THEND.