In David Zucker’s 1988 film of
The Naked Gun
, a hapless Los Angeles Chief of Police, Lieutenant Frank Drebin, is warned by his relatively pacifist Mayoress employer to curb his propensity for violence. Drebin, himself an exaggerated postmodernist collocation of easily recognisable film texts, counters with a policy statement of his own sufficient to rival any pronouncement of Clint Eastwood’s Dirty Harry:
Yes, well when I see five weirdos dressed in togas stabbing a guy in the middle of the park in full view of a hundred people, I shoot the bastards. That’s my policy.