Green, Green, Green By: Sage Rory A sleepy, droopy-eyed John Gage walked into the locker room of Station 51.  He did not notice the attention his arrival received from his station mates, until it was too late.  He was soaked by one of the Phantom's water bombs the moment he opened his locker door.  Roy shook his head, smiling, and turned to look at the floor, in order to keep from laughing aloud.  The other three men in the room did not bother paying him this courtesy.  Instead of jumping all over Chet, Johnny only sighed, and set about changing into his uniform.  All the men left the room for some coffee before roll call.  That is, all except Chet.  He closed his locker, then pushed a plain brown box toward John, that had already been sitting on John's bench. "Better hurry it up, or you'll miss roll call . . . and don't forget to put on the new badge, or Cap will have your hide," he said, giving the box a tap. "What new badge?" Chet rolled his eyes.  "The new badges, man, get with it Gage," he said as he hurried out the door. "I don't remember anything about any new badges," John mumbled to himself.  Then again, it had been a long four days off.  He opened the box without another thought. 'POOF.'  John found himself covered with GREEN glitter, and confetti, which stuck to his wet hair.  Four heads peeping through the door quickly disappeared when he looked up.  He gave another sigh, then shook his head to clear off some of the tiny bits of paper.  The sound of hands clapping together came from the Apparatus Bay, as Cap shouted for roll call.  He quickly ran his hands through his hair, and grabbed his shirt, which he put on and buttoned on his way out the door. Cap stared at him as he slowly joined the already formed line, while tucking his shirt in. "You're hair is GREEN." "Yes sir." "And wet." "Yes sir." "Bunkroom?" "Locker room." "Ok," Cap said making an erasure on his clipboard, then rewriting something.  "Kelly, latrine." "Worth it," Chet whispered to giggles.  Cap's glare shut them up. "Gage, bunk...DeSoto, bunkroom," Cap stuttered.  'Better to keep Chet away from him for a while,' Cap thought to himself.  "Lopez, Kitchen; Gage and Stoker, hoses.  I guess that's it.  Dismissed." "Cap?" "Gage?" "Could I get some coffee first?" "Actually, why don't you try to comb some of that out of your hair first, then coffee, then hose, got it?" "Yeah," he mumbled.  "Where do you think you're going Kelly?" "Coffee Cap." "Latrine Kelly." "That's not fair . . . " "You have a self-made mess to clean up, don't you?" "I plead the fifth." "Latrine, now." "Aye Aye Captain," Kelly saluted. John and Chet bumped into each other at the locker room door, causing Chet to slosh his sudsy bucket.  "You missed some," Chet told him about his hair, "actually, you missed quite a bit." "Close it bubble boy, " Johnny replied with a sneer and narrowed eyes. "That is bubbleman to you," Chet replied. John pushed his way passed Kelly with a pause and a smile, then made his way to the dayroom.  Roy sped past him to the coffeepot; not wanting to find John had emptied it before he got a cup.  Roy smiled when he realized that he, not Johnny, had gotten the last cup.  It was the first time in a long time.  This time, John would be the one to have to make more.  He looked up to gloat, but found his partner, yawning his way into a chair, and paying no attention to Roy's small victory. "What's with you today?" Roy asked as he surrendered his prize cup to John and began to make more.  "Nothing." "Girl I'll bet." "No, well, yeah, I guess.  Yeah . . . a girl."  John started to pour some powdered cream into his coffee, only to get much more then he bargained for. "LOOSE CAP GAG AGAIN KELLY?" he shouted out into the bay.  "ISN'T THAT ONE GETTING A LITTLE OLD?" "NOT WHEN YOU KEEP FALLING FOR IT!" came the answer, shouted from the locker room. "Better get at the hoses before Stoker comes looking for me," John mumbled quietly at Roy. Stoker smiled as Johnny joined him.  "You're glittering." John frowned.  "I know, it'll shake out, once it's dry." "I kinda like it." "You're weird Stoker." The Klaxon's sounded for Squad 51, unknown type rescue.  John smiled as he dropped a hose.  "I'll hurry back." "Sure ya will," Mike grinned.                                                            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "Hurry," a flustered woman shouted at them as soon as they pulled into the drive.  "In here."  They followed the lady in the house, and into her kitchen.  There, sitting on a stack of thick catalogs, and telephone books, was a little Leprechaun.  His hand was stuck to his head, with a large amount of chewing gum.  He had a towel wrapped around his shoulders, and several bottles of detergent, soap, and various shampoos lay spread over the kitchen table. "You called us because you caught a Leprechaun?" John asked, unable to keep from laughing. "No, this is my son Davey.  He had a school play for St. Patrick's Day this morning.  Then after the play, some genius decided to give each of the kids a piece of bubble gum.  I've tried EVERYTHING!", the woman exclaimed nearing tears. John choked back another laugh.  "I see that . . . what if you just . . . you know . . . cut it." "NO!" she screamed.  "He has school pictures tomorrow.  I CANNOT send his GRANDPARENTS, PICTURES of a BALD GRANDSON!" Roy looked through the mess on the table, then quietly made them available, since this was obviously not a life or death situation.  "What am I gonna doooo?" she asked now starting to cry. "Well, have you tried peanut butter?" Roy asked. John looked at Roy as if he'd gone mad.  "Peanut Butter?" he hissed. "Does that really work?" the lady asked, ready to try anything. "Sure it does," Roy said with a confident smile.  The woman dug around in her pantry until she came up with a jar.  "I only have chunky." "That's fine, we'll just be careful not to scratch him.  Do you have any rubber gloves?" "Yeah, here," she answered, handing Roy a pair of yellow dishwashing gloves. Roy slipped them on, scooped out a glob of peanut butter, and slapped it softly, onto the kid's head.  Johnny's eyes bugged out.  He looked at the woman, who was watching Roy carefully, then back at Roy.  Roy slowly massaged in the peanut butter, gradually adding more as he continued.  After a small eternity, the peanut butter began to work.  The mother smiled, and kissed Roy on the cheek.  She ran off to the neighbors, to get some more shampoo, and another clean towel to wash the boy's hair with, wiping tears from her face as she went.  Roy washed the boy's hair like a pro, and soon, a very clean, and very handsome, little boy, was being hugged by his mother as the two paramedics made their way back to their squad. "Wait till I tell the guys," John muttered to himself as Roy drove them back to the station. "You better not." "What will ya give me?" John smiled. "A peanut-butter shampoo while you sleep tonight.  Maybe it will get the rest of that glitter out of your hair." "Oh, ha ha.  I'm going to get the phantom back if it kills me.  THAT'S what you can do for me.  You can help me get the Phantom back, and I'll keep quiet about the shampoo job." "Forget it." "Ah come on Roy." "I told you before, I'm not getting into the middle of that.  Besides, you'll just end up hurting yourself, and I'll have to pick up the pieces." "Don't do me any favors." "I have to, it's my job." John frowned, then looked out the window, trying to stifle a huge yawn. "And what's the deal with that?" "What?" "Why are you so out of it today?" "Oh, that . . . this," John explained, holding up his hand.  Nothing looked out of the ordinary, except his pinkie was a little swollen, and a small gold ring was around it. "What?" Roy asked. "This," John answered, giving the ring a tap. Roy's face drained of all blood.  "You . . . you got engaged again?" "NO!  I...she . . . look, this dumb chick I went out with yesterday, first date, right?   Well, we were eating, and she starts kissing my fingers, next thing I know . . . she sticks this little ring in her mouth, then SHOVES it on my pinkie.  I mean. How dumb is that?  Then she starts telling me how it's her grandmother's ring, and how my EYES remind her of her grandmother, and she wants me to have the ring.  Well, I KNOW the ring is too small, but I can't just take it off, and hurt her feelings and everything, so I left it on until I got home.  Only now . . . I can't get the stupid thing OFF." "You're kidding." "NO I'M NOT KIDDING.  Only it gets even better.  Last night she calls me up and tells me her boyfriend proposed to her, now she's going off to live with him in Pennsylvania, and she wants her ring back.  I told her I can't get it off, and she accuses me of trying to STEAL it.  CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?  I'm mean, SHE shoved it on MY finger, and . . . I mean really Roy, would you ever give a guy a ring on a first date?" "I don't know.  Never went out with any guys." "Oh, ha ha, Roy.  This is serious."  Roy glanced again at Johnny's hand, and his slightly swollen finger.  "Does it hurt?" "Nah . . . a little I guess." "What did you try to get it off with?" "Everything.  I tried soap, oil, I even tried sucking on it, nothing works." Roy pulled into the station.  "Well, let me give it a try." "Come on Roy, I'm a Paramedic too ya know.  I know all the same tricks you do . . . except peanut butter . . . " Roy glared back at Johnny as he was getting out of the squad.  "Shhhhhh!  If you do Johnny, you will have TWO phantoms to deal with."   Johnny only smiled.  "I'll HURRY BACK," Stoker teased from the door of the dayroom.  Roy's hair appointment had taken more than two hours.  "Don't look at ME," Johnny defended himself, pointing at Roy.  Roy shot him a look of death by extreme pain, and went into the dayroom.  John looked at the hoses, hanging up, and clean.  A true pang of guilt shot through him.  "Stoke, I'm sorry, how did you do it so fast?" "Cap made Kelly help me." "Oh, well, that's all right then." "Uh uh, still had to work with Kelly.  You still owe me one." "ALL right, " John whined, "what do you want?" "A jar of GREEN glitter." "You're weird Stoker." John and Stoker went into the dayroom.  Roy sat down next to Johnny, a bottle of soap in hand.  "I already tried that," John exclaimed as Roy shoved his hand in a bowl of it. "Have you tried soaking in it?" Roy grinned, eyebrows flaring mischievously. "You watch too much TV Roy." "You watch more than I do."  Roy put the bottle away, then sat next to John again.  Both accepted cups of coffee offered by Stoker, before he too sat down.  "Ring stuck on his finger," Roy explained to his questioning gaze. "Mmmmm, have you tried peanut butter?" Stoker asked grinning.  Roy glared at Johnny. "Roy . . . I didn't . . . I swear." "Get it off yourself."  Roy stood angrily, and strode out of the room.  "ROY!"  Roy ignored him.  He stormed to the bunkroom, only to be met by Chet, offering him a peanut butter and hair sandwich.  Roy did not want to know where the hair came from.  He retreated from the bunkroom, and ran into Cap.  "There you are!  Boy, you sure made one lady VERY happy.  Mrs. Cummings called to thank you again, and to invite you to her son's Easter play.  He's in the same class as Jenny, so I told her you would probably be there.  Good Job Roy.  I guess it helps having kids, huh." "Uh, yeah, thanks Cap." Roy went back into the dayroom to find a very unhappy partner.  He pulled and pulled at the ring, but it obviously would not budge.  "Let's see it," Roy said, taking Johnny's hand.  He tried turning the ring around on John's finger, but it would not do that either.  "You are gonna have to get it cut off Johnny." "I CAN'T, that chick will sue me." "What's going ON?" Chet asked as he came into the room. "Johnny has a ring stuck on his finger." "THANKS A LOT STOKER!" "Hey, I didn't know it was a secret." "Forget it," John whispered.  Chet grabbed for Johnny's hand. "WATCH IT!" Marco shouted as John's hand and Marco's face nearly collided, when Marco entered the room and John yanked his hand away from Chet at the same time.  "Hey, that's a nice ring John.  Where did you get it?" "Oh, some chick stuck it on me yesterday." "And now it's stuck," Chet added.  John ignored him. "Well, where did she get it?" "It was her grandmothers." "You are wearing an old lady's ring?" Chet asked, trying to needle John.  "Man you better hope she doesn't want it back." "Her grandmother can't want it back Chet, she died." "Ooooo, you are wearing a dead old lady's ring?  That is bad luck Johnny," Marco told him, backing away.  "Old women are funny about their jewelry you know.  They want one person to inherit it, and one person only.  It's never meant to be given away." "Well, I DIDN'T. , " Johnny started to respond. "ROY!" Cap shouted. "YEAH," Roy shouted back. "Oh, there you are.  Phone, my office." "Wife?" "Mother in-law."  Roy's head dropped to his chest.  "I know how you feel.  I have to have dinner with mine tomorrow," Cap told him, giving him a consoling pat on the back.  Four voices singing the funeral march followed Roy as he trudged out to Cap's office.  "Da da dada da dadadadadada." "Man, I'll really need to get this thing off," Johnny declared as he again started to yank at the ring on his finger.  Marco examined the digit sympathetically.  "John, you are going to have to cut it." Johnny looked at it again.  "You're right, but she is going to have to be the one to say to do it.  That way she can't sue me.  After all, she's the one that shoved it on there." Chet held four heavy plates over John's hand, which he was setting the table with.  "I'll get the ring off for you Gage," he smiled. "John, can you…?" Roy asked from the doorway.  John turned toward Roy, and Chet dropped the plates. "OOOOOWWWWWWWWW, CHET, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" "JOHNNY, I'm SORRY.  I thought you saw what I was doing.  I thought you'd pull your hand away." "MAN," Johnny shouted, holding tightly to his hand. "Let's see it," Roy said grabbing him by the shoulder, and trying to sit him down again. "It hurts Roy, it really hurts." "He broke it," Stoker added. "NO, I…" Chet started to defend himself. "I heard it pop." "Johnny...I . . . " "What HAPPENED?" Cap asked running into the room. "Chet just broke Johnny's hand," Marco explained. "HE DID WHAT?" "Aaahhhhh, its really hurting Roy." "I know, I know, just relax a minute ok?  Let's get some ice on it."  Marco handed over some ice and a dishtowel that Roy placed into John's palm from the bottom, so he could examine the hand from the top.  It was already very swollen. "Man Roy," John said through gritted teeth, "It's just not letting up." "Are you dizzy?" "A little." "Stoker, could you..." "Got it," Stoker replied, positioning himself next to Johnny, in case he should faint.  Roy got John's vitals, and called them in.  When he asked for a little morphine, John stopped him. "You sure Johnny?" "Yeah, let's just go in and get it looked at first.  I can always change my mind." "All right . . . let's go."                                                            ~*~*~*~*~*~ "What, no patient?" Dr. Early asked upon opening the door, and finding only John and Roy.  Roy pointed at John's hand.  Dr. Early took a cautious look. "I bet THAT hurts.  Dixie, get me a local, then we can pop them back in." "Right away doctor," Dixie replied. "POP?" Johnny asked cringing.  "Dislocated then, huh.  That's what I was thinking with that amount of pain," Roy spoke to Dr. Early. "Dislocated?  Oh Man, this is gonna . . . " "Not hurt a bit Johnny, just be glad there weren't any fractures in the x-ray Dr. Morton took."  Dr. Early administered the local to a squeamish John as Roy made an exaggerated play of holding and patting his other hand.  John was either appreciating it, or ignoring him, Roy could not tell which.  All he knew is John didn't pull his hand away as he usually would.  John glanced at the needle as it entered his fingertip, and became dizzy.  He turned back to Roy, and promptly passed out, his head falling against Roy's shoulder as Roy caught him and kept him from falling off the table.  Dr. Early and Dixie helped Roy lay him down, and they quickly popped his fingers back into joint.  As Dixie stepped away, Dr. Early brushed the shoulder of her white coat.  "Green dandruff Dix?" Dr. Early asked. "You?" she said brushing at his. "Johnny," Roy interrupted pointing at his weary friend's hair.  "It's St. Patrick's day." "Oh yeah," Dix said taking a closer look and brushing some of it out of his eyes.  "Your pretty little girl do this to him?" "No, try the station's dirty little Phantom." "I won't ask . . . and what should I do with what's left of the ring?" "Ah, stick it in a baggie, he has to mail it to some girl in Pennsylvania." "I won't ask about that either." Roy nodded, "Best not."                                                            ~*~*~*~*~*~ Roy backed into his place at the station.  As he got out, John's pain pills rattled in his pocket.  John had thus far refused them.  He was determined not to take any until the next day, so he would not miss the rest of the shift.  He went in search of anything to tide him over, once the local began to wear off.  Roy went into the day room, sniffing the air.  'Mmmmmm, Marco's Irish Stew,' he thought to himself.  He pulled off the lid, and jumped back in surprise. "MARCO, WHAT DID YOU DO?" "What are you talking about Roy?"  Marco asked, entering the kitchen.  Chet tried to look innocent from the couch, Henry in his lap. "THIS." "CHET, WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY STEW!" "Nothing Marco." "CHET, It's GREEN." "It's just a little food coloring.  It's St. Patrick's Day.  I'm just trying to get everyone into the spirit." "Oh for crying...FOODS ON," Marco shouted out into the bay. Roy stormed out angrily in search of his partner.  He was fed up with Chet.  Messing with his partner was bad enough, but now, he was messing with his food! The other's scrambled in and started to eat, taking little notice of their dinner's unusual color.  Roy came back in with Johnny in tow, surprised at how quiet everyone was. "Cap, you're eating it?" Roy asked, sitting down.  John headed to the pot on the stove, stopping when he caught Roy's eyes looking at him. "Course I'm eating it.  It's food isn't it?" "It's GREEN Cap." "OH . . . so it is.  It's just food coloring I'm sure, right Marco?  It's St. Patrick's day Roy." "Don't ask me Cap, Chet did it." "How much did you use Chet?" Roy asked, knowing the answer. Cap stopped eating.  "Roy, what is your problem?" "Cap, you have kids, what happens when they eat a purple popsicle?" Cap did not answer, but just stared at him.  "Their mouths turn purple, right?  And what happens when they drink orange cool-aid?" "Their mouths turn orange," Cap responded, starting to catch on. "And what happens when you eat GREEN stew?" Cap grabbed the metal coffeepot off the stove to look at his reflection.  A big GREEN mouth glared back at him, it's size enlarged, due to the shape of the coffeepot.  "CHET!" "You guys look like you ate a leprechaun," Johnny giggled hysterically. "OH MAN," Marco shouted, spitting out his food and running to the latrine to try to scrub his mouth.  Chet followed right on his heals. "HOW MUCH DID YOU USE KELLY?" Cap shouted after him.  He rose to join the other two in their futile attempts to scrub the color away.  He had to step over Johnny, who now lay, still giggling on the floor, and completely out of breath.  He was about to send him out, anywhere, just to get rid of him, when he noticed Stoker, still eating.  "Mike?  WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" "Well, the way I figure it, the damage is already done." Cap shook his head.  'How do you defy logic like that?' Cap thought to himself, as he left Stoker to enjoy the rest of his dinner.  Right now, all he wanted was Chet.  He didn't have to go far, as the prankster himself came barreling back into the kitchen. "I got it," Chet proclaimed as he dove for the cupboard.  "Red will cancel out the GREEN.  Their opposites on the color wheel, right?" Chet pulled out the red food coloring, and dabbed some on a piece of bread.  He put it into his mouth, and began to chew very deliberately.  After a moment, he swallowed it.  "Better, right?" he asked, opening his mouth for inspection.  "Now it looks like you ate a Leprechaun and Santa Claus," John burst out, as he dissolved into another fit of giggles. Cap looked exasperated.  "Roy, would you get him out of here, please." "To where?" "Anywhere." "We're going to go get some safe food then, ok?" "Fine, bring me some too, would ya?" "Sure.  Burgers for all." "I don't think Stoker will be needing any," Cap added as Mike let out a small burp, and patted his very full tummy. "Got it," Roy replied, dragging Johnny off the floor by the arm.  "Come on giggles." Johnny sang as Roy pulled him out of the door, to the tune of Here Comes Santa Clause,  "Chet ate leprechaun, Chet ate a leprechaun, On Leprechaun Avenue.  He won't be getting any toys, cause he ate Santa Claus too."                                                            ~*~*~*~*~*~ The squad returned to the Station, burgers, fries, and malts in hand.  Happily, both Marco and Cap met them, then they hungrily dug in. "Where's Chet?" Johnny asked, pulling out the last burger from the bag. "Washing and waxing the engine," Marco answered. "Stoker too?" Roy asked. "No, Stoker's sitting on the floor, supervising.  I don't think he can move any more." "Sure I can," Stoker answered for himself from the door. "Hungry Stoker?" Johnny asked. "You at least brought me a malt, didn't ya?" Stoker asked. "Sure I did," Johnny replied with a smile. "And I told him he was nuts for bringing him one," Roy whispered to Cap. "Well, it's ice-cream, maybe it just slides into any little cracks between the food," Cap whispered back. "Well," Johnny said happily, figuring he'd have to fight off all the helpers now, "who want's to help me get the Phantom?" "Not me Johnny, I've got my own plans," Marco answered as he took the rest of his food to the couch. "Stoker?"  Stoker gave him a pat on the head, and took his malt out into the bay.  Roy felt himself weakening toward the idea, so he turned away to the TV, to keep Johnny from seeing.  Johnny crumpled up his trash, and threw it away.  "Well fine," he mumbled unhappily to himself.  He decided to go to the latrine, to wash the fast food grease off of his hands.  Cap followed him out. "Go eat Kelly," Cap told him as he passed. Chet dropped his rag, and ran off for the kitchen. John opened the locker room door, and allowed it to swing shut behind him.  He was startled to find the familiar swoosh of the door was delayed.  He spun around expecting to see Kelly, but was surprised to see his Captain, still following him. "I want in," Cap whispered to him, after checking to make sure that he too had not been followed. "Cap?" "You have something in mind already I take it, right?" "Well, yeah, but . . . " "And you can't do it by yourself." "Nn . . . no." "So . . . I'll help you." "REALLY?" "Keep it down you twit.  Nobody is to know about this, EVER.  Is that clear?" "Yeah, sure . . . who'd believe me." "So tell me the plan." "Oh, it's great.  You see Brenda took me to . . . " "Brenda?" "Yeah, the lawyer's assistant." "I thought the lawyer's Assistant was Debrah." "No, Debrah is a lawyer, Donna, she's the one I did laundry with." "Laundry?" "Yeah, you see Brenda took me to a ballet, with all these bubbles, and that made me think of Donna . . . " "The lawyer." "No, the accountant, Debrah's the lawyer." "How many girlfriends are involved in this story?" "Ummm." "Never mind, look, if we are ever going to get through this, every time you are talking about a girlfriend, just say 'a girl' ok?" "Ah, ok." "Now go ahead." "Ok . . . ah." "A girl . . . " "Yeah, a girl took me to a ballet.  And they had all these bubbles.  She said they actually had a bubble machine.  That made me think of when . . . " "A girl . . . " "A girl took me to the laundry.  I accidentally put in too much soap, and all these bubbles came out and went everywhere.  So then I called . . . a girl, and she said she could rent a bubble machine to me.  See, it has a really long hose, and I figured if I put in extra bubble solution, it would be really sudsy.  I could hide it under a bed, run the hose over to Chet, spray it over him, then when he woke up, he'd be the abominable bubble boy."  Cap stared for a minute, picturing it in his head.  At first he wasn't sure, but then he started to laugh as he caught onto the joke of the twit with perpetual latrine duty for his pranks, turning into a mass of suds.  "When can you get it?  Can you get it for tonight?" "I can try." "Don't try, do.  Use some of that Gage charm on uh . . . " "The girl." Cap smiled, and gave Gage a pat on the back.  As they headed out the door to the Bay, to go make John's phone call.  Neither of them noticed the figure that had been standing on the other side of the bunkroom door.                                                    ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Johnny's charisma worked like a charm.  The bubble machine arrived at the back kitchen door, while Cap had everyone, but John, working on a knot tying drill.  It was pure genius, Cap figured.  None of them would ever think twice about Johnny getting out of doing knot-tying drills, even if two of his fingers weren't taped to a splint.  John and Cap carried the heavy machine into the bunkroom and stashed it under Cap's bed.  They both read the instructions three times each, and agreed that four times the recommended bubble solution would achieve the result they wanted. "Cap?" "Yeah?" "Am I . . . uh . . . you going to make me clean this up when we're done?" "Johnny, what kind of a Captain would I be if I made an injured man swing a mop?" "Man, this is going to be great." "It sure is."                                                            ~*~*~*~*~*~ Later that evening, after everyone returned from a small trash fire, a lone figure snuck through the bunkroom, and dropped a small tablet into the bubble machine.  He then joined the others as they watched a movie.  'Boy, won't they be surprised.' he proudly thought to himself.  Everyone turned in, except Marco, who wanted to stay up for the late show.  Cap shut off the lights, then quietly waited for Johnny to signal him.  After a long time, he began to curse him in his mind, figuring Johnny had fallen asleep.  Cap began to fall asleep himself, when Johnny startled him awake. "What took you so long?" "ME, Chet's the one tossing and turning." "Is he asleep now?" "Yeah." "You absolutely sure?" "Yeah, he's doing that little suck and sniffle thing." Cap chuckled. "Ok, I'll run the hose down there, you put in the water and the solution, and hook up this end." "Got it." John crept on his hand and knees, to the far end of the bunkroom dragging the hose with him.  Halfway there, his knee found a small, sharp, pebble.  "Ow," he squeaked before clamping his own hand over his mouth. "Shhhhhh, you twit." "I know, I know," Johnny whispered back. Cap turned on the machine, and began to creep after Johnny, also on his hands and knees. "Hey Cap! Johnny! That second batch of Irish Stew is finally done, if you guys want some," Marco inquired from the doorway, bowl and spoon in hand. "No," Cap hissed at him.  "Can't you see we're busy?" "So-ree," Marco replied, then went back to his movie. Cap and Johnny climbed up on Marco's bunk, and rested the hose on the deviding wall, right over Chet.  Both men giggled and hushed each other when Chet sucked and sniffled a little extra loudly.  John then mimicked the sound, causing Cap to laugh out loud, and cover John's mouth, to keep him from doing it again.  It had been a few minutes, but no bubbles appeared out of the hose.  John shook it, and tried to peer inside, but he could see nothing. "Did you turn it on?" John asked. "Of course I turned it on.  Maybe we used too much solution.  Think we should add some more water?" "No, it's a long hose, let's give it a few more minutes." "Ok." "Cap?" "Yeah?" "My feet are getting cold." "Well where are your socks?" "In my locker." "Why aren't you wearing them?" "I never wear socks to bed, my feet get too hot." "So you wear your boots barefoot when we get a night run?" "Yeah." "Does Roy?" "Ah, sometimes, usually he wears socks." "I did not know that.  I always wear my socks." "Does Stoker?" "Yep, Kelly?" "Yep, Marco?" "Don't know." "Me neither.  Come on bubble's," Johnny whined giving the hose another shake. "Cap?" Stoker's whispered voice called out.  Cap stood up so Stoker could see him. "Yeah?" Cap whispered back. "There is a monster crawling out from under your bed." "You're dreaming Stoker, go back to sleep." "No, it's getting bigger and bigger."  Cap peered around the corner of the dividing wall, toward his bunk. "Oh for cryin…I forgot to hook up the other end of the hose." "I'll get it," Johnny volunteered, wading into the bubbles. "No, I'll get it Johnny, I did it," Cap replied, following him. As soon as Cap's stocking feet hit the bubbles, he went sliding across the floor, hitting Johnny, and knocking him down.  John rolled off his Captain, and groped through the bubbles, trying to find the other end of the hose, so he could attach it.  Cap scrambled to his bunk, and managed to find the machine and turn it off.  Stoker stood on his own bunk, gazing down at the growing monster.  Eventually, Cap found Johnny again; sitting in the bubbles, well over his head.  "Well Johnny," Cap laughed, "Got a shovel?" Johnny giggled back in the darkness, and blew bubbles into his Captains face.  Cap responded by scrubbing roughly at Johnny's hair for a few seconds, then releasing him.  "Now what?" Johnny asked. "We wake up Chet, and make him clean it up?" Cap suggested. "WHOA," Marco cried from the doorway.  "What happened in here?" he asked, turning on the lights. The lights revealed a second story.  The bubbles were GREEN, and now so were Johnny and Cap, from head to toe.  Both men involved stared at each other, mouths open.  Chet woke up as if the Klaxon had gone off, and was half way into his turnout gear before he saw the massive green bubbly mess before him, and dropped to his knees laughing "JOHNNY!" "Cap, I . . . " "You never told me you were putting green dye in the bubbles, that's brilliant . . . or . . . it would have been anyway." "But Cap, I didn't." 'You didn't?" "No." Cap began to feel very suspicious.  He didn't like the fact that he had actually been found out, long before he had been caught, ah, GREEN bodied. "Stoker?" "Forget him," Johnny replied, "he still thinks he's dreaming." "I sure hope so," Stoker answered as he finally layed down on his bed, then pulled the covers up over his head. "Chet?" "You think I had something to do with THIS?  Oh man, I WISH." "Ain't no way he could have found out," Johnny said in Chet's defense. Cap sighed.  "Marco?" "Me?  I just got here." "Look Cap, the only person I even mentioned the idea to besides you was . . . " "OH RO-OY," Cap called out.  Roy peeked around his wall, then disappeared behind it again.  "ROY, front and center." Roy crept out from behind his wall, and stood in the isle, head down, hands folded in front of him, biting at his lip in an effort not to laugh at the site before him. "Over here Roy," Cap coaxed.  Roy slowly walked closer.  "A little more . . . a little more . . . come on Roy . . . there you go.  You didn't by any chance overhear a private conversation between me and Johnny here now did you?" "Cap," Roy squirmed, "I was only . . . I meant it a...a surprise for you and Johnny . . . I mean, a good surprise.  I didn't know it would turn out like this." "Neither did I Roy, neither did I.  But it's so nice of you to volunteer to clean it up." "THIS HAS GOT TO BE THE BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE," Chet squealed in delight. "You enjoying yourself Kelly?" "Immensely," "Nice and full of excited energy, aren't you?" "Uh...no…actually, I'm getting pretty slee . . . " "Get a mop, and help Roy." "Ah well, worth it, seeing this Gage fiasco is worth anything." "Roy, please tell me this stuff washes off," John implored. Roy shrugged.  "Would you have wanted it to wash right off Chet?" "I'm going to be green for a week, aren't I?" "You can come over to my house, the kids won't mind." "Now, don't be mad at Roy, I'm the one who forgot to hook up the hose.  Look, no latrine duty for a month. That will make up for it, won't it?" "No Way, that's no fair," Marco cried. "Tell you what Marco, you go roll around in those bubbles for five minutes, and you can have a month of no latrine duty too." "No Thanks." "Thought so, come on Johnny, take a shower, and we'll get some warm milk while they clean up . . .  and get out of the bubbles Stoker, I didn't make a deal with you."                                                            ~*~*~*~*~*~ C shift came in the next morning to find everyone on A shift, all, or partially GREEN.  That is everyone except Marco.  Pulling Marco aside Dwyer asked, "Those guys you work with take St. Patrick's Day a little too seriously, don't you think?" Marco flashed him a big GREEN Irish stew grin before answering, "I have no idea what you are talking about." THE END Please tell Sage how much you enjoyed reading or rereading this story! return to main page