Categories > Celebrities > Johnny Depp > 21 Jump Street: Vault (Def Leppard Greatest Hits)
This song broke us big time in the States and all I could think was how disappointing it was that it wasn't a hit in the UK. (Joe)
Chapter 2: Photograph
I'm outta luck, outta love
Got a photograph, picture of, uh
Passion killer, you're too much
You're the only one I wanna touch
Doug Penhall sighed again and glanced down at the photograph of Marta, his recently-deceased wife, that he held in his hands. The trip down to El Salvador hadn't been entirely worthless though: He'd been able to bring his nephew, Clavo, back with him Stateside. While he loved spending time with Clavo, it didn't really change the fact his wife was dead and he missed her fiercely. Never to be able to see her, talk with her, touch her again . . . He'd never felt that with Dorothy—but then again, they'd had an on-and-off relationship since they were fourteen. Or was it twelve? Ah well. That part of his life was over, never to be revisited.
"¿Tio?"
Doug looked up from the picture in his hands to see Clavo standing in front of him. Forcing a smile, he asked, "What is it, Clavo?"
"Tengo hambre."
"Oh, you're hungry. So, what would you like to eat?"
"Quiero comer la hamburguesa."
"A hamburger?"
Clavo nodded. "Si."
Doug heaved himself to his feet. "Okay, McDonald's it is. C'mon, buddy."
His nephew beamed and followed him to the door.
...
Meanwhile, for the first time in a couple years, Tom Hanson was flipping through his old high school yearbook. He hadn't thought about his old flame in years until a recent case at a '80s nightclub had brought them face-to-face. After the case was closed, he'd begun to have second thoughts about working as a cop undercover. His old flame was part of the reason he'd become a police officer in the first place.
Finally he found the picture he wanted: one that showed the two of them together, young, happy . . . and she'd signed it with that much-hated nickname, Tommy.
Yeah, they'd gone their separate ways after he'd arrested her husband, but right then he wanted to feel her touch, to touch her. Groaning softly, he thought, Passion killer, you're too much.
I see your face every time I dream
On every page, every magazine
So wild, so free, so far from me
You're all I want, my fantasy
Tom closed his eyes, and immediately Linda's face flashed before him. Ever since they'd ran into each other, for a few weeks afterward he'd seen her in his dreams, on every page, every magazine cover. Now he knew what Penhall must feel like. But he couldn't help it, especially now that she was so far away . . . and she was all he wanted.
...
Doug leaned back on the sofa, watching Clavo through half-closed eyes. It had been a long day, but they'd had fun. In many ways, Clavo reminded him of Marta.
Unbidden, memories began playing in his mind, showing him his deceased wife as she'd been when she was alive. He'd only known her for five days before they were married, and their marriage hadn't stopped his government from shipping her back to El Salvador.
And now she was gone forever.
Oh look what you've done to this rock 'n' roll clown
Oh oh look what you've done
Photograph
I don't want your photograph
I don't need your photograph
All I've got is a photograph, but it's not enough
Unfortunately for both Tom and Doug, neither of their lovers were here to see the affect they had on them. All the two cops had to remember them by were photographs—that they didn't want or need—and memories . . . and those weren't enough. They could never be enough.
I'd be your lover if you were there
Put your hurt on me if you dare
Such a woman, you got style
You make every man feel like a child, oh
You got some kinda hold on me
You're all wrapped up in mystery
So wild and free, so far from me
You're all I want, my fantasy
For Tom, his ex-girlfriend had had some kind of hold on him, one he hadn't realized even existed until the LSD nightclub case. And when the redhead with a temper to match the color of her hair was with him, well, there was no way he'd been able to resist the temptation, to be her lover again.
And for Doug, it was the same way. He'd give anything to see Marta again, but there was the tiny little problem called death that he had to deal with.
Both women were shrouded in mystery, had their own particular style, and had had Penhall and Hanson, respectively, wrapped around their fingers. But now . . . now there was nothing.
Oh look what you've done to this rock 'n' roll clown
Oh oh look what you've done, I gotta have you
Penhall's eyes snapped open on darkness as a small voice asked, "¿Tio?"
Doug's hand flew out, fumbled for a minute, then found the switch. Turning on the lamp, he saw Clavo was right beside him. "Yeah?"
"Nightmare," his nephew whispered.
Doug sighed and moved over, patting the space beside him. "C'm'ere."
Immediately Clavo dove in beside his uncle, worming his way underneath the covers. After five minutes, he was out like a light. Of course, now that Doug was awake, he couldn't fall back asleep. Memories of Marta kept plaguing him. At last, even those faded, and he fell into a fitful sleep.
...
In his apartment, Tom wasn't earning a whole lot in the sleep department either. A certain redhead was haunting him, even though it had been months since he'd last seen her. Not that it mattered: he just had to have her.
Of course, that wasn't gonna happen anytime soon.
Photograph
I don't want your photograph
I don't need your photograph
All I've got is a photograph, you've gone straight to my head
All he had of her was a photograph, and he didn't want just that! Releasing a small groan, he turned over and thought, You've gone straight to my head.
How was it he was still thinking about his ex-lover months after he'd last seen her?
"I don't need your photograph," he muttered irrationally.
Oh look what you've done to this rock 'n' roll clown
Oh, oh, look what you've done, I gotta have you
Even when Tom had been with her, hadn't she'd known what she did to him? Okay, true, Linda had been married when they'd last ran into each other, but that hadn't stopped him from becoming involved with her. Naturally, her husband had found out and tried to kill Hanson.
Yeah, like that had never happened to him before.
Okay, maybe not the jealous husbands, but several bad guys had tried to kill him over the course of his career. Come to think of it, there had been murder attempts on almost every member of the original Jump Street team. Were they really that good at their jobs? A wry smile crossed Hanson's lips at the thought, and, realizing he wouldn't sleep at all tonight, he went to look at a favorite picture of his.
Photograph
I don't want your photograph
I don't need your photograph
All I've got is a photograph, I wanna touch you
Instead of taking out the picture of him and Linda, he headed for a photo of the Jump Street team: Captain Adam Fuller, Doug Penhall, HT Ioki, Judy Hoffs, himself, and, yes, Dennis Booker, even if he'd hated the cop-turned-PI. Tom's sepia eyes landed on Judy and lingered. The photo had been taken at a bar they frequented, and all of them were having a good time, even the hard-nosed captain.
Pushing his old flame out of his mind, Tom's eyes swept over Judy's frozen form. They'd been through a lot together, and he'd been the one to comfort her after she'd been raped. The fact she'd driven straight to his apartment after picking up a change of clothes probably meant something, but at the moment he wasn't quite ready to figure out what it was. And he'd always been insanely jealous whenever he found out she'd been on a date with another man . . .
Stop it.
But he couldn't. Now all he wanted was to touch Judy, have her touch him . . . Why do relationships have to be so complicated?
Photograph
Photograph
(Your photograph)
Photograph
Photograph
(I only need you)
Photograph
(I'm outta love)
Photograph
(I'm outta love)
Photograph
(You're the only one)
Photograph
(I wanna touch)
Chapter 2: Photograph
I'm outta luck, outta love
Got a photograph, picture of, uh
Passion killer, you're too much
You're the only one I wanna touch
Doug Penhall sighed again and glanced down at the photograph of Marta, his recently-deceased wife, that he held in his hands. The trip down to El Salvador hadn't been entirely worthless though: He'd been able to bring his nephew, Clavo, back with him Stateside. While he loved spending time with Clavo, it didn't really change the fact his wife was dead and he missed her fiercely. Never to be able to see her, talk with her, touch her again . . . He'd never felt that with Dorothy—but then again, they'd had an on-and-off relationship since they were fourteen. Or was it twelve? Ah well. That part of his life was over, never to be revisited.
"¿Tio?"
Doug looked up from the picture in his hands to see Clavo standing in front of him. Forcing a smile, he asked, "What is it, Clavo?"
"Tengo hambre."
"Oh, you're hungry. So, what would you like to eat?"
"Quiero comer la hamburguesa."
"A hamburger?"
Clavo nodded. "Si."
Doug heaved himself to his feet. "Okay, McDonald's it is. C'mon, buddy."
His nephew beamed and followed him to the door.
...
Meanwhile, for the first time in a couple years, Tom Hanson was flipping through his old high school yearbook. He hadn't thought about his old flame in years until a recent case at a '80s nightclub had brought them face-to-face. After the case was closed, he'd begun to have second thoughts about working as a cop undercover. His old flame was part of the reason he'd become a police officer in the first place.
Finally he found the picture he wanted: one that showed the two of them together, young, happy . . . and she'd signed it with that much-hated nickname, Tommy.
Yeah, they'd gone their separate ways after he'd arrested her husband, but right then he wanted to feel her touch, to touch her. Groaning softly, he thought, Passion killer, you're too much.
I see your face every time I dream
On every page, every magazine
So wild, so free, so far from me
You're all I want, my fantasy
Tom closed his eyes, and immediately Linda's face flashed before him. Ever since they'd ran into each other, for a few weeks afterward he'd seen her in his dreams, on every page, every magazine cover. Now he knew what Penhall must feel like. But he couldn't help it, especially now that she was so far away . . . and she was all he wanted.
...
Doug leaned back on the sofa, watching Clavo through half-closed eyes. It had been a long day, but they'd had fun. In many ways, Clavo reminded him of Marta.
Unbidden, memories began playing in his mind, showing him his deceased wife as she'd been when she was alive. He'd only known her for five days before they were married, and their marriage hadn't stopped his government from shipping her back to El Salvador.
And now she was gone forever.
Oh look what you've done to this rock 'n' roll clown
Oh oh look what you've done
Photograph
I don't want your photograph
I don't need your photograph
All I've got is a photograph, but it's not enough
Unfortunately for both Tom and Doug, neither of their lovers were here to see the affect they had on them. All the two cops had to remember them by were photographs—that they didn't want or need—and memories . . . and those weren't enough. They could never be enough.
I'd be your lover if you were there
Put your hurt on me if you dare
Such a woman, you got style
You make every man feel like a child, oh
You got some kinda hold on me
You're all wrapped up in mystery
So wild and free, so far from me
You're all I want, my fantasy
For Tom, his ex-girlfriend had had some kind of hold on him, one he hadn't realized even existed until the LSD nightclub case. And when the redhead with a temper to match the color of her hair was with him, well, there was no way he'd been able to resist the temptation, to be her lover again.
And for Doug, it was the same way. He'd give anything to see Marta again, but there was the tiny little problem called death that he had to deal with.
Both women were shrouded in mystery, had their own particular style, and had had Penhall and Hanson, respectively, wrapped around their fingers. But now . . . now there was nothing.
Oh look what you've done to this rock 'n' roll clown
Oh oh look what you've done, I gotta have you
Penhall's eyes snapped open on darkness as a small voice asked, "¿Tio?"
Doug's hand flew out, fumbled for a minute, then found the switch. Turning on the lamp, he saw Clavo was right beside him. "Yeah?"
"Nightmare," his nephew whispered.
Doug sighed and moved over, patting the space beside him. "C'm'ere."
Immediately Clavo dove in beside his uncle, worming his way underneath the covers. After five minutes, he was out like a light. Of course, now that Doug was awake, he couldn't fall back asleep. Memories of Marta kept plaguing him. At last, even those faded, and he fell into a fitful sleep.
...
In his apartment, Tom wasn't earning a whole lot in the sleep department either. A certain redhead was haunting him, even though it had been months since he'd last seen her. Not that it mattered: he just had to have her.
Of course, that wasn't gonna happen anytime soon.
Photograph
I don't want your photograph
I don't need your photograph
All I've got is a photograph, you've gone straight to my head
All he had of her was a photograph, and he didn't want just that! Releasing a small groan, he turned over and thought, You've gone straight to my head.
How was it he was still thinking about his ex-lover months after he'd last seen her?
"I don't need your photograph," he muttered irrationally.
Oh look what you've done to this rock 'n' roll clown
Oh, oh, look what you've done, I gotta have you
Even when Tom had been with her, hadn't she'd known what she did to him? Okay, true, Linda had been married when they'd last ran into each other, but that hadn't stopped him from becoming involved with her. Naturally, her husband had found out and tried to kill Hanson.
Yeah, like that had never happened to him before.
Okay, maybe not the jealous husbands, but several bad guys had tried to kill him over the course of his career. Come to think of it, there had been murder attempts on almost every member of the original Jump Street team. Were they really that good at their jobs? A wry smile crossed Hanson's lips at the thought, and, realizing he wouldn't sleep at all tonight, he went to look at a favorite picture of his.
Photograph
I don't want your photograph
I don't need your photograph
All I've got is a photograph, I wanna touch you
Instead of taking out the picture of him and Linda, he headed for a photo of the Jump Street team: Captain Adam Fuller, Doug Penhall, HT Ioki, Judy Hoffs, himself, and, yes, Dennis Booker, even if he'd hated the cop-turned-PI. Tom's sepia eyes landed on Judy and lingered. The photo had been taken at a bar they frequented, and all of them were having a good time, even the hard-nosed captain.
Pushing his old flame out of his mind, Tom's eyes swept over Judy's frozen form. They'd been through a lot together, and he'd been the one to comfort her after she'd been raped. The fact she'd driven straight to his apartment after picking up a change of clothes probably meant something, but at the moment he wasn't quite ready to figure out what it was. And he'd always been insanely jealous whenever he found out she'd been on a date with another man . . .
Stop it.
But he couldn't. Now all he wanted was to touch Judy, have her touch him . . . Why do relationships have to be so complicated?
Photograph
Photograph
(Your photograph)
Photograph
Photograph
(I only need you)
Photograph
(I'm outta love)
Photograph
(I'm outta love)
Photograph
(You're the only one)
Photograph
(I wanna touch)
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