Starsky & Hutch Discuss Theology
15 Apr 1999
"You never wanna go bowling anymore," Starsky whined in Hutch's direction. His partner had his nose buried deep in an oversized book and when he got that engrossed Starsky knew that only a particular irritating note in his voice would rouse his focused lover.
Hutch turned a page and without looking up remarked blandly, "We went bowling on Tuesday. This is Thursday. I would venture that a 2 day interim doesn't fall under the category of 'anymore.'" He remained engrossed in the book.
Starsky sighed, plopping his chin in his hand. There was something especially vexing about having Hutch ignore him. Especially when Starsky was feeling certain physical urges and Hutch was determined to ignore those as well. He decided to turn on the charm. "You know, life with you, Hutch, here in VenicePlace is very interesting. It's just one adventure after another. Like that incredible solo you played last night with the band? That was somethin' else...at least it was until that guitar string broke and nearly cut your nose off. Really threw our interpretive dancer off her stride. When all 6 feet of her got tangled up in her own butterfly wings, and the accordion player laughed so hard I thought she was gonna catch one of her...um...mammaries in the squeeze box, and then when Glo-Ira started blowin' that damned whistle Flamingo gave her--"
With a resigned sigh, Hutch put down the book. "Starsky. I'm trying to read. This isn't one of your 50 cent paperback mysteries, it's an academic discussion of theology. It takes concentration."
Starsky shook his head as Hutch picked the book back up. This was going to be harder than he thought. "What the hell kinda book is that anyway? What's so interesting in there?" That could be more interesting than me and my urges, he thought grumpily.
Hutch gave him one of those patient, understanding looks that always made Starsky want to clock him one. "It's a fascinating collection of modern beliefs and the evolution of theology."
Starsky struggled not to yawn. As far as he was concerned all that theological mumbo-jumbo Hutch was so interested in was just something used to repress people's natural urges -- something Starsky was adamantly against. He much preferred the kind of theology some of the (crazy) VenicePlace ladies practiced when they went on the roof during the full moon and danced around naked. Starsky never could figure out why Hutch said it was too dangerous for him to go up there and join them. Dancing naked sounded like fun.
"Evolution of theology, huh?" Starsky feigned interest. "Like what? Like how some churches are now letting women become priests and stuff?"
"That's right," Hutch said, smiling, warming up to the subject. "But it's not just about that. Modern people in ever growing numbers are not only moving closer to religion, but they're shaping those religions to suit themselves."
"Like the naked moon-ladies on the roof?" Starsky asked brightly.
Hutch looked distressed. "I think the naked moon-ladies have something else going on up there and religion doesn't have anything to do with it."
"Well, as one of the two detectives in the place maybe I should talk to the Head Of Security and check the situation out."
Hutch pointed a warning finger at him. "I have a very strong suspicion that you and HOS get into more than enough trouble around here. It makes me nervous when you two conspire together. Stay off the roof!"
Starsky smirked. "Don't call her HOS!"
Hutch sighed. "Forget the moon-ladies, this book is about far more complex subjects."
"For example...?" Starsky asked, not really caring. He just liked to watch Hutch get all animated and excited as he warmed up to his subject. Besides, over the years he'd discovered that the more animated Hutch got the easier it was to distract him with some physical affection which would soon lead to.... He blinked, nearly distracting himself from what Hutch was saying.
"For example, they talk about how some of these people forming their own religions are making their own creation stories. Their own mythology. And some of it is beautiful. Like this one here." Hutch picked up the book and ran his finger down the page, looking for his place. "This is a woman-centered religious group that practices right here in LA. I think some of the members might live in our building."
"No surprise there," Starsky commented. "Seems like every lady whacko and her mother lives here!"
"I notice you don't think they're whacko when they make you dinner, or straighten up the place, or leave chocolate kisses hidden all over," Hutch commented, finally finding his place.
Starsky smiled, remembering the little mound of chocolate kisses he'd found near his coffee cup this morning. Right near a set of tell-tale tire marks and a few strands of Yorkie fur. "Yeah, well, they're sweet, too, but I still think they're a little whacko."
"Takes one to know one, Starsk," Hutch reminded him. "Oh, here it is. This is that creation story. It's really beautiful. Let me read it to you."
If you insist, Starsky thought, and consoled himself with the thought that if he just humored Hutch long enough all his psychic longing might eventually get Hutch into bed. Maybe.
Hutch cleared his throat. "It's kind long and involved, so I'll just pick it up here-- 'And God created woman and she had 3 breasts.'"
Starsky's eyebrows shot up. "THREE breasts!!!"
Hutch looked impatient. "I guess God must've had you in mind, buddy, when he did that. Now be quiet. 'And God then asked the woman, "Is there anything you'd like to have changed?" She looked down at herself and replied, "Yes, if You wouldn't mind, Lord, could You get please rid of this middle breast?" And so it was done, and it was good.'"
"Phew!" Starsky said. "What a relief. It's hard enough for a guy to find enough time to pay attention to two never mind adding another one--"
Hutch glared at him. "I'm not finished. Be still, will ya? I'm just getting to the good part."
Starsky settled down. If he'd known the story was going to be about breasts he would've had a better attitude about it from the start.
Hutch read on. "'Then the woman exclaimed as she was holding that third breast in her hand, "But, Lord, what can be done with this useless boob?"'"
Starsky nodded, wondering that himself.
Hutch smiled beatifically and read, "'And so God created man.'"