The station house was quiet, the engine having been called out to a fire before morning inspection. Roy finished his second once over of the squad and wandered into the kitchen. Johnny sat slumped in one of the chairs.
"Hey, Johnny, do you want a cup of coffee?" Roy asked as he poured himself a cup.
"No thanks. I think I'll pass for now."
Roy set down the cup he was about to pour for Johnny and raised his eyebrows. "You're turning down coffee?" Roy pulled up a chair. "Okay, what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong." Johnny stifled a yawn. "It's just that I had a date with Monica last night, and I..."
"Oh? Which one is she?" Roy tried to hide his smile behind his cup.
Johnny shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Do you remember that call last week at the hair salon?"
"You mean the one with the lady who got her hair caught in the drain? You don't mean..."
"No, not her." Johnny shot him a dirty look. "Man, Roy, she had to have been forty! No, Monica was that cute blond receptionist. She invited me over for a home cooked meal." Johnny glanced up at Roy, a crooked smile playing over his lips. "You thought Chester B's cooking was bad? I couldn't tell if we were having really well done roast beef or really burnt chicken. I've been up half the night with indigestion."
Roy sat across from his partner and eyed him closely. "Did you take anything? "
"Yeah, before the shift started. You know the worst part to all this?" Johnny squinted, frowning. " The worst part is I have another date with her on Saturday. She promised to make me her specialty. I feel like I should have the squad on standby..." Johnny stopped in mid sentence as the tones sounded.
"Squad 51. Man down, corner of Victoria Park and Sheppard. Time out 10:45."
As the squad pulled out into the street, they could see the engine returning to the station.
John rubbed his sore stomach, watching as storm clouds gathered on the horizon. The palm trees swayed in the strengthening breeze. "Man, I have a feeling this is going to be a long day."
**********************************
Marco leaned back against the counter, sipped his coffee as he watched Chet gleefully rub his hands together. He had spent the last 10 minutes mesmerized as Chet, moving with the precision of a bomb expert and the dexterity of a surgeon, carefully dismantled and emptied one of the half dozen cream puffs he had smuggled in at the beginning of the shift. Marco sighed and shook his head.
"Now, Marco, this is where the Phantom puts himself above all others." Chet glanced around to make sure no one would walk into the kitchen as he completed his task. He had heard the squad report that they were heading back to quarters from Rampart after their last run, and by his own devious calculations, had only five minutes left. Soon the rest of A shift would be making their way in to sample Chet's turn at lunch.
Chet bent to reach into the cupboard below the sink, pulling out a small blue and red striped can he had hidden in there earlier. "This, my dear Marco, is the result of two days of intense testing. I spent hours trying to find just the right shaving cream. It had to have the right consistency, had to hold its shape the longest, and most importantly of all, my friend, it had to be the most vile tasting substance on the market."
Marco refilled his coffee cup and turned to Chet. "If you put this much energy into your work Chet, you'd be Captain by now."
"Marco, you don't understand the complexities of life! It's survival of the fittest, and in this station, the Phantom reigns."
Chet shook the can and carefully filled the empty cavity with shaving cream. He could hear the squad pull in as he resealed the top and checked to see if he could notice any signs of his tampering. Barely suppressing a grin, Chet bounced over to the door to the apparatus bay and smuggly announced, "LUNCH."
*********************
Cap pushed his freshly cleaned plate back across the table, patted his stomach, and remarked, "Chet, that's the best lasagna I've had in a long time. How'd a nice Irish boy like you learn to cook something like that?"
"Well Cap, I follow your philosophy in life; if you're going to do something, do it well."
Mike and Marco stifled groans as Roy rolled his eyes and looked at his partner. Johnny had eaten only about a quarter of his usual helping, and was now rubbing his lower back, watching the station play by play, but not participating much.
Johnny noticed Roy's gaze and shrugged. "I'm starting to lean toward the burnt chicken. I don't think I can survive another dinner date."
"As a special treat today, gentlemen, to help ward off this gloomy weather, I bring you dessert." With a flourish, Chet set down his tray of pastries, making sure that the special cream puff sat directly across from Gage. "Help yourselves, there's enough for all."
Cap reached over and grabbed a cream puff. "Chet, how did you know that these are my favourites? You buckin' for a promotion there, pally?" Chet puffed out his chest, making a mental note 'cap and cream puffs', then frowned as he noticed that Johnny hadn't taken the last, special dessert.
"Hey, Gage, you're not gonna insult me by not having any, are ya? I'm already hurt about the lasagna. I try to do something nice, and this is the thanks I get!"
Johnny scowled across to Chet, as Marco piped up.
"Hey, John, if you don't want it, maybe the Cap does." Marco had a twinkle in his eye as he turned to Chet. "After all, he did say they were his favourite."
"Why thanks, John, I'll take it if you don't." Cap reached for the cream puff as Johnny gestured for him to go ahead.
"Wait, Cap," Chet stammered, "Gage should save it for later. I brought them in for all of us...."
"Nonsense, Chet, Johnny doesn't mind." Cap took a large bite out of the cream puff.
Chet started backing away from the table, towards the door, when he saw the look that crossed the Captain's face. Captain Stanley let out a huge "UGH", as he tried to spit out the offending morsel, concentrating as much on clearing his mouth as he was on scoping out the location of Chet.
Both Johnny and Roy had lept out of their seats when they saw the look that had crossed Cap's face as he had taken the bite. Now they backed out of harm's way, clearing a path for the sputtering Captain as he stalked a trembling fireman out the door into the bay, dilapidated cream puff still in hand.
"Cap, it was meant for Gage, I had no idea....I mean if Marco had kept his mouth shut, none of this would have happened!" Chet shot Marco a dirty look. Marco responded with a smile and shrug.
Chet found himself backed up against the side of the squad, an angry captain in front of him, his amused colleagues peering over his shoulders, not daring themselves to get too close. They didn't want to get in his line of fire.
Captain Stanley towered over Chet as he glared at the practical joking fireman.
"Chet," he grated, taking calming breaths. "The Phantom has been officially retired, and you have just volunteered to do latrine duty for the next three months." Stanley straightened his shoulders and started to turn around, sending the other troops scrambling for the safety of the kitchen.
Chet let out a long breath, sagging against the squad. Three months he could do on his head! He wiped the smile off his face, quickly jumping to attention as the Cap turned back to him.
Captain Stanley had a menacing grin on his face as he looked from the remains of the pastry in his hand over to Chet. "I think you should tidy yourself up Chet. As you are, you're a disgrace to the uniform."
Chet stared dumbfounded...he looked the same as he had before lunch. But before he could question him, the Cap took what was left of the cream puff and stuffed it down the front of Chet's shirt, smearing it with his hand,and cleaning the rest off on Chet's sleeve.
With a self-satisfied smirk, Captain Stanley turned on his heel, hands in pockets, and headed into his office, whistling all the while.
As Chet stood stunned, the rest of the crew filed out beside the squad. Johnny scooped up a bit of the cream with the tip of his finger and brought it up to his nose.
"Shaving cream. Pretty clever there, Chet." Johnny wiped the dollop on Chet's clean sleeve.
Roy nodded to Chet as he spoke to Johnny. "It looks like you're not the only one coming down with a bad case of indigestion." Marco chortled at
that remark.
Stripping off his shirt, Chet headed to the locker room, planning all the while how the Phantom would get his revenge on Marco for setting him up with the captain, and for revenge on Johnny too. How dare he have stomach problems when he had such a great gag. A stooge should always be available to play tricks on, no matter what! That's what stooges were for.
*********************************************
The church stood centred in a maze of newly built dormitories and squat campus buildings. It would have looked at home in an old English town, but it seemed out of place in L.A., with its flying buttresses and soaring bell tower. Scaffolding stood against the face of the tower, reaching up the 70 feet past crumbling masonry, to the open belfry.
Screeching to a halt on the wet pavement, the squad and engine pulled up in front of the church.
Gage stumbled out the passenger door, pulling shut his turnout coat against the wind and rain, as he stared at the structure. "Man, I think I saw this place in an old Jack the Ripper movie."
Roy slapped Johnny on the shoulder, smiling. "Come on, let's see what's going on."
They joined the engine crew as two men, one gesticulating wildly, talked to the Cap. They were yelling to be heard over the wind.
"They must have gone up while the caretaker was out. The church's been closed for repairs since that quake last month." The man paused, wiping his face as the rain beat down. "About an hour ago, the bells started ringing, and then there was a loud crashing noise. They must have been fooling around up there. Those kids, I knew they were trouble." The man finished his point by wagging his finger at the tower.
The second man added, "Those bells wouldn't have gone off unless someone was up there."
The distant lightning framed the spire in brilliant flashes of white and yellow, as rain and wind lashed the rescue crew. They could see hanging timbers and debris silhouetted in the flashes. The faint sound of bells drifted down as the winds whipped through the belfry.
"How do you know there's more than one person? " the Cap turned to the first man.
> "One of my students saw some people up there just before it happened. It's probably the same three the caretaker kicked out of there last week."
"Is there a way to the top from the inside?"
The second man shook his head. "There's a stairs that leads up to a trapdoor, but we already tried that before you came. It's not movin'."
Captain Stanley studied the scaffolding and pointed. "John, Roy, see if you can make it up there. Take a HT, flashlights and some lines up with you and we'll send you up whatever equipment you'll need. Be careful!Lopez, Kelly, grab the prybars and the portapower. Looks like some of the beams up there have given way, and we may need them."
Johnny and Roy grabbed two lines each and stuffed the flashlights in their turnout coats. They started up the scaffold, careful of the loose boards and masonry. The rain made the going slow and slippery, the wind threatening to tear them off, pulling at their clothing.
About two thirds of the way up, Roy heard Johnny gasp. He turned and looked down. "You okay?"
Johnny clutched the crossbar in front of him and nodded his head. He had felt a quick, sharp pain in his belly, and had almost missed his footing, which caused him to jam his hand between two supports. "Yeah, keep going. My hand just slipped."
Roy watched him a moment longer. "Let's move it, Junior. I don't feel like being on this giant lightning rod any longer than we have to."
The upper level of the scaffold came even with the belfry, and they had to vault over a low stone railing to access it. Overhead, nine bells of various sizes hung from three support beams, while a fourth beam had fallen and broken into three pieces, the end of the largest disappearing into the rafters. As the driving rain slashed through the open gallery, the wind whipped up small pieces of debris, the low rumble of thunder mixed with the soft stirring of the bells.
A young man of about 17 sat next to a girl who had been pinned by one of the fallen bells. He sat, hugging his knees, rocking back and forth, oblivious to the presence of the two firemen.
"Roy, why don't you get the gear and a prybar. I'll check out these two, and see if I can find the third victim."
As Roy scrambled back out to the scaffold with the HT and rope, Johnny clicked on his flashlight and approached the pair.
The boy did not stop rocking until Johnny laid a hand on his arm. "It's okay," Johnny said in a soothing voice. As he squatted in front of him, Johnny felt another jab in his stomach and sank to his knees. He took a steadying breath, telling himself that this was not the time or place for this, and began his examination.
"Are you hurt anywhere? Don't be scared, we're here to help you." Other than apparent shock, the boy seemed fine. He began rocking again as Johnny crawled the few feet to the girl.
The bell had fallen on its side, across the girl's lower back and hips. She was having difficulty breathing and the rain was blanketing her face. Johnny took off his turnout coat and made a tent with it to shield her. She had a strong but rapid pulse, there was no outward signs of bleeding.
Johnny stood and swept his flashlight over the small area. As he wandered, he could hear Roy hauling the equipment over the railing. It was where the largest piece of beam still hung that he found the third victim.
He had been hit in the head as the beam fell, crushing in the side of his skull. John bent to look for a pulse, knowing there would be none, but he had to make sure. He returned to the girl as Roy finished his preliminary report to Rampart, filling them in on the first two patients.
"Did you find the third one?"
Johnny just nodded, slightly nauseous. He knelt next to the girl and started taking vitals.
"Johnny?"
Johnny swallowed hard. Looking at the boy, he whispered to Roy, loud enough for only him to hear. "His head is crushed, he didn't make it." He turned his attention back to the girl. "BP here is 90/60, pulse is 100, respirations 16."
As he relayed the information to Rampart, Roy watched Johnny, frowning at his partner's reaction; they had seen their fair share of dead bodies.
"51, have you been able to extricate the second victim yet?" Kel Brackett's voice echoed in the vaulted ceiling, which already vibrated from the continuous claps of thunder, disturbing the denizens waking up for the night.
"Negative, Rampart."
"She's probably got some internal bleeding. Start an IV, D5W TKO and monitor blood pressure once she's free. Be sure to immobilize the spine."
"10-4, Rampart."
Johnny picked up the prybar Roy had hauled up. As he turned, the end hit one of the small hanging bells, sending out a loud, high pitched 'clang'.
Chet scrambled up over the stone railing. He couldn't resist. "You rang?"
Just then, as if answering a wake up alarm, dozens of bats took wing, flooding the air, startling the firemen.
Chet flapped his arms and screamed, as Johnny hit the deck and Roy protected his two victims.
In a matter of seconds it was over. The boy still sat rocking by Roy, undisturbed, but Chet was frantically waving his arms and yelling.
Johnny slowly climbed to his feet, slightly hunched over, and grabbed Chet's flailing arms.
"Chet, they're gone. Chet!"
Chet slowly opened his eyes and carefully scanned the air.
Johnny shook his head. "Jeez, Chet, I didn't know a grown man could scream like a little girl. They're just bats. This is a belfry. They tend to go together."
Chet cleared his throat and threw back his shoulders. "Hey, hey, hey, I was just showing a healthy release of adrenaline, I was not screaming like a little girl. Besides, bats, man, they're like rats with wings." He took one last look upwards and shuttered. "The Cap sent me up to help you get these guys down. He doesn't want us up here any longer than necessary." As if to punctuate his point, a streak of lightning lit up the sky, followed closely by a sharp clap of thunder. "I've got two stokes and a couple of lifebelts, if you need them."
Roy looked up as he finished setting up the IV on the girl. "Did you bring up a backboard? She'll need it and a stokes, but the boy we can lower in a harness."
"I'll get you one." Chet dashed over to the edge of the scaffold, talking in his HT as he went.
Johnny hoisted the prybar and walked over to Roy.
"I think I can lift the top of the bell up a bit with this, at least enough to let you slide her out."
"Let's give it a try."
Johnny put the prybar under the neck of the bell, below the remaining shard of beam. He wiped the rain and sweat that ran down his face, stinging his eyes, and shivered. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed either end of the bar and lifted. The bell slowly inched off the girl, and Roy pulled her clear.
As he lowered the bell, Johnny felt a searing hot pain in his belly, as if someone had placed a white-hot poker there.
"AUGGHHH!"
The prybar fell from his hands as he crumpled to the floor, doubled up in pain, gasping for air.
"Johnny!" Roy finished checking the IV on the girl and rushed to his partner.
Chet ran with the backboard and stokes over to Roy. "What happened?"
"I don't know, he just collapsed. Johnny, can you hear me? What's wrong?" He felt his friend's forehead, could tell he was running a high fever.
"My stomach, it's...burning pain..." Johnny tried to talk more, but Roy hushed him.
"Take it easy. Let me do my work, okay? Chet, get on the horn to Rampart and inform them we have a third victim. Pulse is 110, respiration is 40 and shallow. Complains of acute lower abdominal pain."
Roy looked back over to the girl, then placed his coat over Johnny.
"I'll be right back, hang in there okay?"
Johnny grimaced as he nodded his head. "You go take care of her. I won't go anywhere, I promise. I'll just be here enjoying the light show."
Roy raced back to the girl and rechecked her BP, satisfied it was up and holding. He nodded at Chet. "Help me secure her to the backboard and put her in the stokes."
Once the girl was strapped in, Roy returned to Johnny with the BP cuff and a thermometer.
"Chet, tell Rampart the second victim's BP is 110/80. Johnny's BP is 100/75." He took the thermometer out of Johnny's mouth and held it in the flashlight beam. "His temperature is 101."
"Hey Roy, Rampart wants to know where the pain is located."
Roy pressed his fingers gently into his partner's belly, eliciting a painful moan when he came to the lower right. "Tell them the lower right quadrant."
Johnny looked up at his partner with feverish eyes. "So maybe it wasn't the burnt chicken after all."
"Roy, Rampart advises it may be appendicitis and they think it may already have ruptured. They want an IV, Ringers, and to transport as soon as possible."
Roy grabbed the drugbox and started setting up the IV. "Grab the other stokes, and get some more help up here."
A lightning bolt tore through the sky, striking the spire at the top of the bell tower. The boy, quiet until that point, jumped up, screaming. He ran for the edge of the belfry, kicking Johnny in the side as he flew by. Chet tackled him on the top of the scaffolding, catching hold of one of the supports before they both slid over the edge.
The boy fought, grabbing at pieces of wood and brick that littered the upper level, pummeling Chet.
"Stop that! Stop it or we both fall off!" Chet rolled on top of the boy, pinning his arms to his sides. He could hear shouts below, as the rest of the engine crew dodged the falling debris.
"WHAT THE HELL'S GOING ON UP THERE?" Captain Stanley's voice cut through the storm, as Chet's HT came to life.
The boy stopped struggling, staring at Chet, then up at the spire. He closed his eyes against the rain, and lay unmoving.
"Uh, Cap, everything's okay. We're gonna need an extra man up here though, something's wrong with Gage." Chet flinched as a bright light flashed in the sky above. He gathered up the boy, slipping across the scaffold to the belfry.
Johnny lay on the floor, writhing in pain, unable to catch his breath.
"Johnny! Can you hear me!" Roy tried frantically to get through to his partner. "Take it slow, try to breathe. Just breathe!"
Slowly, fighting pain and nausea, Johnny relaxed, his breathing coming in short, quick gasps.
Chet brought the boy back into the gallery. He was again docile as Chet sat him next to Roy, no signs of his previous agitation showing. He slowly began to rock.
"He's quiet now, but I don't trust him." Chet cast a worried look at Johnny.
"Johnny, we're going to move you now. It's going to hurt, but I promise to make it quick." Roy looked up to see Marco climbing over the stone railing.
Together, Roy and Chet got John into the second stokes, as Marco rigged the first to lower it to the ground. Lightning flashed continually in the sky, casting shadows of the tower on the men below.
They sent the girl down first, Marco and Chet anchoring the line above, the Cap and Mike below, trying to keep the stokes from smashing into the scaffold.
"Roy, she's down, we're ready for Johnny." Chet headed back to help carry the other stokes. Johnny lay, pale and shivering, semi-conscious."How's he doing?"
Roy rested the head of the stokes on the railing, climbing over after Chet. "He'll be a lot better once he's off of here and in the hospital."
Marco secured the line, carefully lowering Johnny down the side.
"Watch out! Hang on!" Marco and Chet fought with the line, as a large gust of wind tore at the stokes, pulling the wet rope through their hands. They heard metal strike metal. Roy grabbed Chet, steadying him, then raced to the edge.
Johnny hung thirty-five feet in the air, the stokes banging against the scaffold. The Cap and Mike tried to tighten the slack on the guide rope, but had trouble maintaining their footing on the wet grass.
"Marco, pull Johnny up a bit!" Roy sat with his feet braced against the upper supports, tugging at the slick rope.
Over the din of the storm, Roy heard the Cap shout from below. "Okay, lower him down!"
Slowly, the three men paid the line out, relaxing only when the HT reported Johnny was down and okay.
Roy strapped a lifebelt around himself and one on the boy, steering him out to the scaffold. They were lowered down together, the rain stinging them through their clothing, the boy moving only when directed.
"Cap, Chet's sending down the drug box and biophone right behind me. Can you bring it over?" Roy didn't wait for an answer, guiding the young man up into the back of the ambulance. Johnny was strapped to one of the side benches, the girl lay secured to the stretcher. Roy placed the boy in the jump seat, making room for the equipment.
"I'll have Chet bring the squad over to Rampart and I'll get a replacement in for Johnny. And Roy," Stanley reached for the ambulance doors, "call me as soon as you know if he's going to be okay." On Roy's nod, Captain Stanley shut the rear doors of the ambulance, and watched as it sped off into the night.
************************************************
Roy sat in the doctors' lounge, drinking his third cup of coffee when Dr. Brackett walked in.
"How is he, Doc?"
Brackett crossed his arms and looked at the floor for a moment before answering. "He has a burst appendix. They've got him up in the OR now. They'll remove it and do whatever cleanup is necessary, but he definitely has peritonitis. But, with strong antibiotics and some TLC from our friendly staff, he should recover fully."
Roy drew a relieved breath. "The other two victims we brought in, how are they?"
"She's got a badly bruised hip, and a bruised kidney. The internal bleeding was minor, nothing we couldn't handle. She should be fine in a week or two." Dr. Brackett poured himself a cup of coffee. "The boy is another matter. He's fine physically, but we've had to call in a psych consult. He's been badly traumatised, and it will take a lot to reach him."
Brackett smiled at Roy. "Cheer up. Chet's waiting by the nurses' station for you. I already let him know about Johnny, and he called the station. He wanted me to tell you that 'your chariot awaits'."
Roy grabbed the biophone and drug box and left the lounge with Brackett. Chet stood at the nurses' station, staring at himself in the glass of the supply cabinet, smoothing down the hairs in his moustache.
Roy stopped in his tracks, turned to Brackett. "Doc, about that psych consult..."
Dr. Brackett laid his hand on the paramedics arm and smiled. "Roy, I could probably get your station a great group discount."
*****************************************
Roy knocked on the hospital room door before he stuck his head in. "Hey partner, do you want some company?"
Johnny smiled broadly and set aside the magazine he had been reading.
"Yeah, come in, come in. How are you doing?"
"I was about to ask you the same question."
John winced as he sat himself up higher in the bed. "Well I'm still sore but they say the infection is clearing up fine. I'm just getting stir crazy, it's like serving five days in a prison. They better release me before I tunnel out."
Roy nodded to some tupperware containers by John's bed. "Looks like you've had some company already today."
Johnny's face fell. "Yeah. Monica felt bad I couldn't make our dinner date tonight, so she decided to whip me up something so I wouldn't have to eat hospital food. I almost regret that they have me back on solid food."
"You gonna eat it?"
John looked at Roy, flabbergasted. "Roy, I'm trying to get out of the hospital, not become a permanent resident. Hey, how was the shift yesterday?"
Roy pulled up a chair and sat next to the bed. "Oh, you know, save a few lives, fight a few fires, rescue a cat from a tree."
"You didn't!"
"Yep. Fluffy. It was actually a hydro pole. Still don't know how she did it without wings though."
"Dwyer with you?"
"Yeah, he pulled a double. By the way, the Phantom's back."
John rolled his eyes. "I thought the Cap banished him for good."
Roy grinned. "Tell that to Dwyer. It started with oatmeal in his shoes, then bacon in his turnout coat."
"Bacon? That's a new one. What happened when he found it?"
"Well Chet asked him if wanted eggs to go with that bacon."
Johnny's eyes widened. "He didn't!"
Roy nodded his head. "Yep, taped to the inside of his helmet."
Both men burst out laughing. Johnny clutched his stomach in pain, tears rolling down his cheeks, but unable to stop himself.
"The Cap must have crucified Chet." Johnny forced out between breaths.
"Nope. Chet's in enough trouble with the Cap as is. We got Dwyer calmed down and cleaned up. The Cap's none the wiser."
"The Cap's none the wiser to what?"
Neither Roy nor Johnny had noticed the door open as Captain Stanley, Mike and Marco stepped in.
Both men sobered quickly and exchanged looks.
Roy cleared his throat. "Nothing Cap, we were just talking about work. Where's Chet?"
Captain Stanley wandered over to the empty bed to the left of Johnny's and sat on the edge. "I'm not sure. He said he had some things to do."
The Cap was well aware of Kelly's antics the previous day, but had decided to turn a blind eye. Three months of latrine duty had been pretty harsh.
Just then, Chet came in, carrying a small pink box. Seeing the Captain amongst the crew, he nonchalantly tried to hide it behind his back as he greeted Johnny from the foot of his bed.
"See you're looking better there, Gage. These clowns keeping you busy?"
"Chet, just who are you calling a clown? And what are you trying to hide behind your back?" The Captain left his perch on the second bed and advanced on Kelly.
"Oh, this?" Slowly giving ground, Chet backed towards the door, stopping only when Marco and Mike impeded his progress. "It's nothing. Just something I picked up in the gift shop downstairs, nothing important."
Taking the box from Chet's hands, Captain Stanley sat it on the bed next to John and opened it up. The others, except Chet, gathered around to look.
Cap slowly shook his head and reached into the box.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Kelly. What have we here?" The Cap eyed the object that lay in his open palm suspiciously. "Boys, help yourselves." He nodded to the others and bounced the item in his hand like a baseball. He looked at Chet, smiling.
"Cap, you know I wouldn't....not after what happened....Cap, NOOOOOO----"
Chet bolted for the door, but not before being splattered by a volley of very plump cream puffs.
*********************************
Author's note: Thanks to Gwen for her IMMEASURABLE help with this story!!! Also, thanks to Gwen and Wendy for making work such a E! friendly Place. :-}