Chapter Text
After tons of school for his MBA and CPA, Patrick McDuklorpen got a job with the federal government, working on large-scale white collar crime investigations. He’s always loved numbers, he has a knack for connecting dots, and this is his dream job. He knows he could apply for CEO positions and make tons of money, but he hates rich people.
It’s his responsibility to take the numbers from taxes and ensure they are correct. He pairs government numbers with a person's public life. The numbers were the draw to the job, but life research is more fun than Patrick expected, and he’s really good at it. See, if someone’s business is taking in zero revenue on paper, but their social media shows a brand new yacht, there’s a problem. Patrick loves finding the problems. He scours social media, local papers, real estate listings, interviews, whatever he can find. He works closely with other government agencies, he contacts lots of local law enforcement, he investigates suspects' close associates.
The government can access a lot of information, and people share a lot of information. Between the numbers and the research, Patrick can tell you almost everything about anyone. Their hopes and aspirations, their vices, and their stupidity. A plaque on his desk reads, “People lie. Numbers don’t.”
Patrick loves his job and he’s good at it. A few good solves early in his career put him on the highest-profile cases. He tracks the lives and taxes of some very famous celebrities, occasionally getting to bring justice to these millionaires who try to avoid paying their fair share.
His favorite assignment by far has been the Rose family. He helped the team that— well, no, that’s modest. Patrick’s break solved the case that took them down. He had meticulously constructed the evidence for years and finally cracked it. It was the largest case he’s led, both in value and profile. This case is his baby.
Patrick hates the Rose family. The kids are about his age, so he compares his meager upbringing to theirs. Their privilege is astounding.
Before the repossession, he watched the daughter, Alexis Rose, take trips to far off places and matched those trips to the income of her latest beau. She had fun numbers to follow, making her his favorite Rose. A few times, Patrick had to work with the FBI to ensure hostage money was legit. She put herself in danger. He likes to imagine she saw her privilege and wanted to get away from it, wanted to use it to see the world and seek thrill. She used her status to entertain. He binge-watched her short-lived reality show with his fiancée, Rachel, biting his tongue about how much trouble they’d soon face.
He watched the numbers as the parents provided capital for art galleries for their son, David Rose. The parents wrote checks to patrons that matched the amount paid for art. Patrick matched the checks with the sales and the galleries' newsletters. This money was all above board and on the books, but he wondered if David Rose knew that his patrons were bought by his parents, or if he didn’t care. David Rose’s story was boring in comparison to his sister. He didn’t do as much, just stayed in New York and partied. He’s funny to watch in videos, and the tabloids were always a bit shocking, but that’s about it.
The mother and father earned their money through some honest work, and while their children are brats, they have the money for a reason. Patrick just hates the ultra rich in general. There’s no need to hoard money while other people go hungry, social programs go unfunded. He wore the same baseball mitt for decades. He wore hand-me-downs from his cousins. His family worried when his dad got laid off in a recession. His life would be permanently changed with the amount of money the Roses spent any given day.
The day the feds came knocking to repossess everything from the Roses, he insisted on being there. The investigators are not expected to come to a repo, but Patrick had to see it. It was the best day of his career, watching his hard work take down this massive fortune, smiling from ear to ear. He slunk around the rooms slowly watching the chaos, ogling at the opulence he sees all day from behind a screen. He watched the family pack bags. It wasn’t his job to stop them, but they packed the dumbest shit. Not much of sentimental value, a lot of very ridiculous, impractical clothing. A suitcase of wigs...? None of them stopped to look at many of the people taking their things, and when they did they focused on one person at a time. Patrick’s insides flurried as David Rose screamed at Terry, who apparently was getting paid to “destroy another person’s life!” Patrick giggled. ‘Terry didn’t destroy your life, I did.’ But Patrick was a fly on the wall.
His team had given the agents a list of the highest value items and rooms they’d likely be in, but it all had to go. Patrick stood outside the house with a team of assessors as things were sorted into trucks: This piece should go straight to auction, these should be bundled for auction, this should go to evidence, this is worthless, put it in their pile. Patrick stood in front of the eight-foot portrait of the family, picturing what the assessors would say about it. No one is going to want this creepy elephant in their living room. This was wider than any wall in Patrick’s apartment. It probably wouldn’t even fit through the door.
All in all, it was a great day. He never got to meet the Roses and they never looked at him or many of the personnel in the face, but he was pleased to see the mannerisms and voices match up with the countless videos and pictures he’d studied.
Luckily for Patrick, addicted to the Rose drama, his team doesn’t stop an investigation at repossession. Most rich assholes who lose everything retain at least some connections and some undeclared assets, plus they frequently re-offend. The cases stay open until they can prove there is no further illegal activity. So Patrick’s team continues the investigation, trying to find their business manager, Eli, who changed last names so often his file is first-name-only, and keeping tabs on the Roses from afar.
Patrick assigns himself to that last task. He is going to be the person to track their every move, ensuring they’re not accruing money through back channels. He’s the most familiar with the case and has been following the family for years. This case is his, and he wants to be the one to see it through. He has a hunch that the Roses are not done breaking the law. He doesn’t trust anyone else to find out how. Paula and Smith, the other two on the Rose case team, work to find Eli and his other clients. To them, it becomes the Eli case.
One of their most ridiculous assets is a town called Schitt’s Creek. Yes, a town. The rumor is that the father bought the town for his son as a joke. ‘Imagine having the money to buy a town as a joke.’ Patrick would have liked a bike that wasn’t on its 3rd generation in the McDuklorpen family, but a town is nice. This particular asset has depreciated in value since it was bought. The town is struggling financially; it has only a handful of businesses, a dwindling population, and could not be sold. Patrick sits in on a meeting to assess the town’s value and is part of the decision to allow the Roses to retain the town in David Rose’s name. Patrick quickly learns they have relocated there. ‘They’ll be able to camp for free.’ He snickers.
As the family lands in Schitt’s Creek, the workload for the Rose case gives way to other priorities for his department. His boss, Linda, loves that Patrick is passionate about the Rose case. It makes him chase the high and throw himself at every case as if it would be another Rose. He has some other good breaks, high-profile names you’d recognize, but the Roses remain his favorite, the highlight of his career.
Naturally, his check-up on the Roses becomes the highlight of his week. He does it every Monday morning because he can’t wait. In fact, it gets him excited for Mondays. He sits down with his favorite tea in his favorite mug like a holy ritual. He peruses the Elm Valley newspaper, local law enforcement updates, town council minutes. The work isn’t super rewarding but the routine includes checking the kids’ social media, which is cathartic. He’s always enjoyed their antics, but the schadenfreude of seeing them in their personal hell always gives Patrick such a rush. He is reveling in their downfall.
The numbers slowly start coming in from their new life. The father applies for and receives unemployment. Patrick chuckles, ‘That’s rich, he’s never paid into unemployment a day in his life.’ Roland Schitt (‘is that his real name?’ ), the town's mayor, claims to be his employer? The department agrees to let that slide, they have bigger fish to fry than Johnny Rose’s new $100/week. Moira Rose gets paid for a commercial gig. It’s a terrible commercial, but an honest paycheck. David Rose gets $56 in wages from a grocery store (‘Wow it looks like he didn’t even last one day’). A real estate listing for the town remains active (‘Who is going to buy this money sink?’).
Most weeks there are no new numbers. He follows them anyway, watching them acclimate to their new surroundings. As they get more comfortable, they post more on social media. He learns their new friends and replaces some of their old connections in his checklist. Theodore Mullens and Stevie Budd seem to be the siblings’ significant others. The town’s mayor is around them a lot. He and his wife are chronic over-sharers online, and while that is occasionally fruitful, most days it is cringe-worthy and just good for a laugh. He grows to learn new faces and even some faces that are not on social media. When Patrick doesn’t have much to sift through, he listens to local businessman and council person Ray Butani’s podcast on double speed. Again, there’s a lot of nothing. But it feels good to get a well-rounded picture of the town. A bit of Patrick takes in all this research to feel smug. The Roses had fallen into the exact worst town for them.
Local law enforcement updates include Alexis Rose’s community service hours (‘Right, her DUI’ and he feels a bubble of laughter remembering how fun those tabloids were). Patrick feels a sense of pride for his favorite Rose. She’s dating Ted Mullens, who Patrick learns is a veterinarian (‘A normal, successful person, good for her.’) and then she’s not. It also seems like she’s spending a lot of time with the Mayor’s son, Mutt. She’s always been able to keep herself next to influential people, so this is no surprise.
An announcement in the paper indicates there’s an offer to buy the town, but they never close the deal. Patrick wonders what happened there. He checks on the deed— the town hasn’t changed hands so it’s not like they sold it for untaxed cash. A quick search for the buyer says he died in Schitt’s Creek. Patrick requests death records, finds natural causes. The Roses aren’t murderers, it seems they were just unlucky.
A news alert for David Rose — which hasn’t come in handy for any of the Roses since the week of the bust — has him on a missing persons report. Patrick checks on them every day that week, finds no death record or suspicious news stories, and David Rose reappears on his sister’s social media by the following Monday.
David Rose’s girlfriend, Stevie Budd, shares a post suggesting the siblings have learned to ride bikes. Patrick feels a sense of superiority. He has skill sets he takes for granted, and wonders how many other things these adult children have yet to learn. He wonders if they cook, if they get sick. His research paints a pretty detailed picture, but discoveries like this remind how far it is from actually knowing a person.
These little fun thoughts he leaves out of the weekly reports to the team. He does, however, always forward them to his best friend, Frankie. He shouldn’t really talk about cases outside of work, but he has two personal exceptions: the Rose family and Frankie. Frankie knows not to go anywhere with the information. They snicker about these elite, spoiled brats and how fucked they are in the real world. Frankie and Patrick have been best friends for decades. They text nonstop commentary all day, at all times TMI. They know way too much about each other’s (and their partners’) bowel movements, families, sex lives (or lack thereof), so of course the Rose family makes frequent appearances in their friendship.
Patrick does not tell his fiancée, Rachel. Not because she’d spread any rumors, but because she shows no interest in his work at all. In fact, they don’t really talk. They live together, go to dinner, do obligatory couples things, and they have a nightly ritual where Patrick will masturbate and Rachel will add a soft kiss or a hand on his thigh to help out. She’s not really interested in sex, and their arrangement is fine with Patrick. They stopped planning the wedding a long time ago, never setting a date.
Patrick is fine with his life. He goes out to drink with Frankie a lot. Sometimes Frankie’s husband, Zach, or Rachel, or both, will join them. He has hobbies: he loves hiking and playing open mic nights and watching baseball. His life is good, but Patrick shines at work. He loves his job more than anything.
Months after the repossession, even with other cases proving more fruitful, Patrick still tracks the Roses. There’s no evidence they’ll be law-abiding in their new surroundings, and Patrick holds fast to a hunch they’re up to no good. Moira Rose appears on the town council’s poorly-written minutes, proposing a town beautification program. She runs for and wins a seat on the council. This makes it to the weekly meeting. Any time one of their suspects runs for public office, they need to analyze it. There doesn’t seem to be any campaign finance violation, and the council’s first few moves with her presence are common-sense improvements to the town, not suggesting any abuse of power. It’s something to keep an eye on, but it seems to be proper. In fact, she ran against the Mayor’s wife, which actually should have been more suspicious. The campaign is fun to watch from the local paper and social media. The two women seem to be close otherwise; they attend each others’ parties and are in the same vocal ensemble.
Meanwhile, the kids seem to be settling into something akin to work ethic. David Rose gets a taxed job at a retail store called the Blouse Barn. He is actually able to keep it for more than a day. Alexis Rose also gets a job on the books. She’s a secretary at a vet’s office. ‘Wait… Employer: Theodore Mullens ?’ Patrick questions the means by which she got the job. ‘Oh well, can’t say I’m surprised’
Year-end tax time and the ensuing influx of new numbers is insane for Patrick’s department. With active cases getting priority, it takes a while to get to the Roses. Patrick works quickly through his caseload, eager to break into the new numbers for his favorite family. The only new numbers for the family pertain to the kids’ jobs. He learns their income biweekly, but their employers’ numbers are seasonal.
He starts with Ted Mullens’ vet office. The taxes were submitted two weeks early and everything is above board. It’s a slightly worse quarter than before, but these things fluctuate.
The same cannot be said for the Blouse Barn. The clothing store, which was doing fine, is now declaring no new revenue. There’s a weird number of write-offs to the company and it looks like they were hemorrhaging money all quarter, the quarter David Rose worked there.
The write-offs are raising red flags in the department and with the regular tax auditors, so Patrick ups his Rose case research to twice a week. There’s not much that first extra day, just a post from Stevie Budd: a picture of a group including the Rose siblings and David’s girlfriend behind shot glasses at a dive bar with the caption “celebrating! #fakelawyers ”
Suddenly David Rose, previously the most boring Rose, is the most suspicious member of their family. The payroll tax department informs Patrick that David Rose’s income has stopped. He must have gotten fired for ruining the store. Wait, no. It looks like the store is out of business. Updated online street views show an empty store front. He looks for dissolution paperwork, but comes across something weird. The trademark Blouse Barn belongs to an Australian company that has never had an Elmdale location. A press release shows the Australian company is set to open 78 new locations in North America. Did they sue David Rose’s employer for the name? That would show up in court documents. A cease-and-desist wouldn’t. But a cease-and-desist would just mean a rebranding, maybe $1000 max. With a store this bankrupt, that might have been enough to put them out of business.
Patrick can’t believe that a financially viable company went completely out of business, unable to afford a rebrand, just months after hiring David Rose. Did Rose tank the business? Is that what the celebration post was about? There was no money when the business was dissolved, so it’s not like there is a big check lying around. Patrick can’t find the angle here. Rose was the only employee on payroll. Clearly Rose just fucked up this poor businesswoman’s life.
In an ordinary case, Patrick might look away at this point. ‘Headline: Inept, spoiled moron kills previously-thriving business.’ But this isn’t an ordinary case, this is the Rose case, so Patrick digs. To get more background on the store, Patrick puts in calls to relevant Australian departments until someone has their file.
‘Well this is bizarre.’ The company wrote a big fucking check to the owner of the Elmdale Blouse Barn. Was it for use of the name? They could have sued for that, probably even getting the last of her money for trademark violation. If they were trying to save money on lawyers, a cease-and-desist would have done it. Why would they pay so much? Patrick is transfixed, spending time every day trying to work out the connections here.
Patrick feels insanely good at his job. With these big breaks at work, his mood rivals the level right before the break that led to the Roses’ repossession. His good mood is transferring to his social life: he’s going out almost every night, taking his dad to a game, buying drinks for Frankie and gushing about the case, playing peppy songs at his regular open-mic nights. One night he even has sex with his fiancée, which is front-page news for his life.
He is checking on the Roses daily now and their social media has even more red flags. There’s a new sweater on David Rose in the back of a local cafe’s social media post. Patrick matches it to a designer. It costs $350. Nothing compared to his others that cost a few thousand, but not exactly cheap for someone who doesn’t have a job anymore. Alexis’s posts show new fixtures in the background in their shared motel room. They post themselves getting manicures. Someone is getting money and there are no new numbers, despite the tax deadline. Patrick is a sleuth. He loves this job so fucking much.
He calls a meeting about these new developments. His boss, Linda, commends him for his hard work, and they all conclude that some of the money from the sale of the brand went to David Rose. Why? How much? His team member Smith notices David Rose’s boss did not file taxes on the income from the check. Paula suggests the boss might have given Rose a portion, and he might not have declared it either. This is getting good.
The meeting is ending and Patrick feels great about this. “Let’s go get him! It’s three hours away, we can leave tomorrow.” He wants to be there when it happens. He knows these people inside and out and he wants to be the one bringing justice to the Rose family. He wonders if they’ll recognize him from the repossession day. Linda is less eager: We don’t have enough evidence, we don’t know how much the check was, it’s not a case yet. With this little information, we wouldn’t be able to get a warrant for the bank statements or phone records. We can go after the employer, but if that’s the only offense, it’s really chump change for this team. They can send it down to smaller tax crimes departments.
Patrick is pissed. He knows there’s more to this story. He puts out more alerts to all relevant departments, even some that would probably never be relevant. He spends a daily two hours on the Roses. The social media posts consume him and he’s upset when he can’t find a new one. Most days there isn’t anything new, but he spends the time anyway. He emails Linda when a new car registers to the Rose name, but she’s still not convinced. According to an obituary in the local paper, it’s the same day Stevie Budd’s great-aunt died; maybe it was a gift to her boyfriend’s family from her inheritance.
Shortly after, Patrick receives an emailed memo and attached file sent from the motor vehicle commission, a response to Patrick’s open call for intelligence. He opens the attached file. Rose had to take a driving test. Patrick is bemused at the idea of David Rose having to sit through a driving test. He takes a picture with his phone and sends it to Frankie. Frankie responds, “He had to renew his license? I don’t get it.” Apparently he doesn’t think it was as funny as Patrick does.
One night, Patrick sits sleepless in bed, doomscrolling, waiting for the morning so he can continue his manic investigation. A push notification from Frankie shakes him out of it.
Frankie
Do you know this guy?
[link]
The header on the link says Schitt’s Creek Veterinary. His heart drops. That's Ted Mullens’ vet office. The one where Alexis Rose works. What did Frankie find that Patrick missed? He doesn’t check the websites for these businesses daily.
Patrick
Yeah, that’s Alexis Rose’s boss???
What is this.
He scrolls to see a live video of a cage of bunnies. That’s cute, they’re adoptable. He makes it full screen and turns his phone. But now he can see there’s a guy in the background. ‘That’s Ted! and— oh my god he’s naked. Ted is naked? Oh my god and he’s stretching.’ Patrick watches on for what feels like hours until Ted leaves the live stream and it’s just bunnies.
Patrick
What the fuck did I just watch???
Frankie
You were still watching??
Patrick
Thinking about adopting a rabbit.
Ted naked has nothing to do with why he was watching it, contrary to what it looks like to Frankie. It’s just exciting seeing live video from Schitt’s Creek. He wants to watch those bunnies all night.
The next day, he sets up his tablet to the bunny cam while he works. Around mid-morning he sees in his periphery a woman walking behind the bunnies. That’s Alexis Rose! She’s talking to Ted Mullens. ‘Why doesn’t this have sound?? Are they together? They’re being a little handsy.’ Patrick doesn’t know if he should be watching this at work. The exchange is funny. Alexis Rose’s hands and face combination are entrancing. She’s beautiful. He could watch the two of them flirt and touch all day. It’s definitely Patrick’s new favorite channel, and he doesn’t get much done that day. Patrick spends 7 hours watching it after work, including another exhibitionist show from Ted Mullens that night. Luckily for his sanity, it’s dark by the next morning. A banner pops up in the URL: “We’re so hoppy you watched! The bunnies all have safe furr-ever homes.”
Patrick
RIP best live stream ever
Frankie
You were still watching??