## Special thanks to Pauline! Story from Flamingo

## Starsky and Hutch Follow Directions

"You volunteered us to do what?" Hutch asked in dismay.

"Don't get all in a lather, Hutch," Starsky soothed as they walked over to Flamingo's apartment. "How hard can it be?"

Hutch just stared at his lover. "You've never done this before have you?"

"So what? It can't be that hard. People do it every day. And besides, I had a long talk with CrowRow and she explained it all to me."

Hutch groaned audibly. It scared him how well those two communicated together.

They entered Flamingo's apartment with the key she usually left under the pink doormat that was embossed with the silhouettes of two fierce looking Dobermans that read, "I can get to front door in .004 seconds. Can you?"

Starsky shook his head at the doormat. "And the next line should read, 'But first I have to wake up.'"

Hutch was aware of the eerie silence as soon as he crossed the threshold. "So where is everybody?"

"Flamingo had to go visit her mom. The two little dogs are in CrowRow's place, and the two Dobes are asleep in the bedroom as usual." Gentle snoring could be heard coming from that direction.

"This is not a good idea, Starsky. Besides, I feel weird doing it in Flamingo's place!"

"Will you relax," Starsky said impatiently. "It wouldn't make any sense doing it in our place. Ah, here's the note!"

He walked over to the cluttered dining room table, picked up the piece of paper there and handled a small bottle beside it.

Starsky gave Hutch a sly, knowing glance, shook the little bottle at him and gave him a saucy grin. Hutch only rolled his eyes, wondering for the two thousandth time how he allowed that sultry blue eyed gaze to get him in so much trouble.

Then Starsky took the note and read aloud: "How to Give a Cat a Pill.... 1) Pick up cat--"

Both men looked around for the animal in question. The small, pudgy calico lay imperiously on a nearby couch. Her expression could only be called scowling. The tip of her short little tail flicked ominously in their direction. She did not look amused.

From the exercise stand in the corner of the room the little green parrotlet muttered, "Uh-oh."

"Quiet, you," Starsky admonished.

"Y'know, Flamingo calls that cat 'The Queen of Mean.'"

"Oh, that's just her little pet name for it," Starsky insisted. "Come on, Hutch! How much can that cat weigh, eight pounds? Together the two of us weigh over 300 lbs! I'd say we had the definite advantage. And she doesn't even have front claws. Look, Ro told me this would take about 2 minutes. It wasn't her fault she had to make an emergency manure delivery. And you're the one always bugging her to get rid of that stuff. So stop grousing." He went back to the note. "1) Pick up cat.... Well, go on!"

Hutch's eyes widened. "Me! Why do I get to pick up the cat!"

"Because," Starsky said with infinite patience, "I'm reading the note! Besides, big brave detective, I get the hard part. I get to give the pill, you know, stick my fingers in the part with the teeth!"

Hutch knew now he couldn't refuse without hearing about his squeamishness for weeks. He approached the cat. She didn't move, just flicked her tail a bit more and let out a low growl.

"Ro says she always does that. Doesn't mean anything."

"Uh-huh," Hutch said disbelievingly. Gingerly, he lifted the little cat off the couch. She didn't resist at all, simply submitted to his embrace, growling softly the whole time. "That's a good girl. Good, Queenie...." He stroked her but she just kept growling.

"See, we're almost done," Starsky said encouragingly as Hutch approached him with the cat. He checked the note. "Okay, now 'cradle her in the crook of your left arm, like holding a baby.'" He took a pill from the bottle, putting the note down as he read while preparing to deliver the pill. "'Position right forefinger and thumb on either side of cat's mouth and gently apply pressure to cheeks while holding pill in right--that should be left--hand.'"

"Maybe I should shift her to my other side?" Hutch wondered. As Starsky's hands moved closer to the cat her growling grew more ominous.

"No, we're good. This is only gonna take a second." He looked down at the table and continued reading as he put his hands on the cat and followed the directions. "'As the cat opens her mouth, pop the pill into mouth. Allow the cat to close her mouth and swallow.'"

Three minutes later, a somewhat subdued Starsky picked up the note and read, "'2) Retrieve pill from floor and cat from behind sofa. Cradle cat in left arm and repeat process.'"

Hutch, long blond hair totally askew, glowered at his partner. "'Oh, this'll only take 2 minutes, Hutch,'" he mimicked, once more in possession of the cat. Her expression looked even fiercer.

"We can do this, Hutch. We're professionals." He glanced at the note and followed the directions again.

Five minutes later, Starsky turned once more to the note. "I think we're doin' somethin' wrong."

Hutch, looking even more bedraggled and, covered with small fluffy pink feathers, grumbled at his lover, "You're damned right we're doing something wrong--starting with volunteering for this gig. What new suggestions does the note have?"

"'3) Retrieve cat from under the bed--'" Starsky read.

"Done that," Hutch reminded him, clinging to the cat.

"'And throw soggy pill away.' Good idea." He looked at his fingers covered with red coating. "'4) Take new pill from bottle, cradle cat in left arm, holding rear paws tightly with left hand.'"

"Why didn't she say so in the first place?" Hutch mumbled as he took control of the cat.

"'Force jaws open and push pill to back of mouth with right--I mean left--forefinger.'"

"You think that's a good idea?" Hutch asked. He couldn't help but smirk. "I mean, that is one of my favorite fingers. I wouldn't want anything to happen to it."

"Ha-ha," Starsky said mirthlessly, as he prepared to follow the directions. "'Hold mouth shut for count of ten.'"

Eight minutes later, Hutch approached the dining room table and read, "'5) Retrieve pill from Doberman's water bucket and cat from top of the entertainment center.'"

"Weww, gow aheaw," Starsky murmured around the finger he was sucking.

"Excuse me?" Hutch asked.

"I said," Starsky reiterated, removing his bloody finger, "'well, go ahead.'"

Hutch pointed at himself. "Me? Oh, no. It's your turn. I've already been behind the couch and under the bed. Don't break anything. You know how Flamingo gets about her precious entertainment center. You'd think she had a direct feed into our bedroom the way she carries on about it."

Starsky smiled sheepishly and laughed nervously. "He-he, yeah, you'd think.... Let me get that cat."

As Starsky went to collect the cat, Hutch continued reading. "'Call Hutch in to help.' Too late, I'm already here." Starsky was clambering down from the entertainment center clutching the uncooperative cat. Hutch read on, "'6) Kneel on floor--'"

"Oh, that's why you made me get the cat. You were reading ahead. You'll do anything to get me on my knees, won't you Hutchinson?"

He just grinned wickedly. "Whatever works, buddy. But business before pleasure. 'With cat wedged firmly between knees, hold front and rear paws.'"

"Okay, I got her...you think this is a good idea? She sounds really mad."

"'Ignore low growls emitted by cat. Get Hutch to hold cat's head firmly with one hand while forcing wooden ruler into mouth.'" He picked up the ruler he only now noticed on the table. Approaching where Starsky knelt on the floor, he got down there with him and took the note with him. Following her directions, he did as directed. "'Drop pill down ruler and rub cat's throat vigorously.'"

Ten minutes later, a panting Hutch read, "'7) Retrieve cat from curtain rail,'" which Starsky was doing already, "'get another pill from the bottle. Make note to buy new ruler and repair curtains. Carefully sweep shattered figurines and vases from the floor and set to one side for gluing later.'" Hutch eyed the devastation with a sinking feeling about the course of their evening. "'8) Wrap cat in large towel,'" he eyed it waiting for him on the dining room table, "and one of you needs to lie on cat with her head just visible from below the armpit.'"

"'Lie on the cat!'" Starsky squeaked. "Have her head near my armpit?"

"This was your idea, Frank Buck," Hutch reminded him mercilessly as he brought the towel over.

"Okay, okay, just wrap her real tight. Man, I wish she'd stop making that noise. Is that towel tight enough?"

"It's tight, it's tight!" Hutch insisted as Starsky got into position on the floor. "Hey, look at this way, Starsk. How many chances will you ever get to lay a cat."

Starsky only grimaced at him. "What do you get to do while I put my life on the line?"

Hutch read further. "'Put pill in end of drinking straw,'" he picked up the straw from the table. "So nice of Ro to have everything waiting for us! 'Force--'"

"Man, I don't like that word, 'force,'" Starsky complained.

"'Force mouth open with pencil,'" he scooped that up as well, "'and blow pill down drinking straw.'" Hutch blinked at the carefully written directions. "I know we have a lot of weapons training but I don't remember getting any training in blow darts!"

"Maybe she just figured with that mouth you'd just have to be better at 'blowing' than me," Starsky grinned from the floor. "Will you come on before this cat rips my armpit off."

Half an hour later, the two men found the note where they'd left it on the table and Starsky read frantically, "'9) Check label on bottle to make sure pill is not harmful to humans.'"

Hutch, gasping and clutching his throat examined the bottle carefully and shook his head. "Thank God for small favors."

"'Drink water to take taste away.'"

Hutch grabbed for the water bottle sitting on the table and gulped it down.

"'Apply Band-Aid to partner's forearm,'" Starsky glanced at the field dressing covering him from wrist to elbow and mumbled "Band-Aid?" disgustedly. "'And remove blood from carpet with cold water and soap.'"

Hutch had already brought the carpet solution from the dining room table over to the stains on the carpet and followed the directions.

Starsky continued reading. "'10) Retrieve cat from the basement where she has run to hide.'" He looked anxiously in Hutch's direction.

"Let's go, partner," he said ominously. "This cat's really pissing me off now."

"Uh-oh," said the parrotlet.

"That's enough out of you," he snapped at the little bird.

An hour later, cat in arms, Hutch read from the note, "'Get another pill from the bottle. Put cat in the kitchen cupboard and close the door carefully onto her neck, leaving only her head showing.'"

"Easy now, Hutch," Starsky warned. "The point of this is to give the cat the pill, not behead her!"

"Uh-huh," Hutch said as he contained the cat in the cupboard. "Next part's yours."

Starsky took the note and read, "'Force mouth open with dessert spoon.' Which, of course is waiting for us. 'Flick pill down throat with elastic band.' That's here, too. Okay, ready?"

Hutch nodded.

Three hours later, Starsky read wearily, "'11) Fetch screwdriver from tool drawer and put cupboard door back on hinges.'"

Hutch was doing exactly that, but Starsky decided this would not be a good time to discuss how well Hutch could screw.

"'Apply cold compress to cheek,'" he continued. He'd already applied the provided compress and was holding it in place, "'and check records for date of last tetanus shot.'" He pulled out his badge wallet and checked the medical card within. "Hey, good news, Hutch! At least our tetanus shots are up to date!"

Hutch didn't answer, just kept working on the door.

Starsky read on. "'Throw away tee shirt and put on new one.'" He held up the bright pink tee shirt from the table. "Aw, isn't that sweet? Lookit, one of the girls in the building must've made this. It's covered with pictures of me running all over the place and all over the shirt it says, 'NOOOOOOOOOO CLOOOOONEY....' That's really nice...."

He caught a positively withering look from Hutch and put the shirt down.

"Of course, pink isn't exactly your best color.... It's okay with me if you go barechested." He went back to the note. "'12) Call fire department to retrieve cat from tree across the road. Apologize to neighbor who crashed into hydrant while swerving to avoid cat.'"

She forgot to write," Hutch growled, 'Be mortified by the fire crew who recognizes you and howls with laughter at the state you've been brought to by an eight pound cat. Which is not half as bad as listening to the mocking jeers from your fellow cops who answer the call in case you're being attacked by your monthly home wreckers.'"

"Oh, come on, babe, it wasn't that bad...."

Hutch's look silenced him. "I thought I was gonna clock Simmons when he asked me if pet-sitting was our new moonlighting gig and then told us not to quit our day job!"

Starsky decided to be practical. He read on, "'Take last pill from bottle. 13) Tie cat's front paws to rear paws with garden twine.'" He looked. On the table. "And bind tightly to leg of dining table. Find heavy duty pruning gloves in tool drawer. Push pill into mouth,'" Starsky shuddered, "'followed by large piece of fillet steak (in refrigerator).'"

"Sure glad Ro's into safe food handling practices," Hutch said sarcastically. "Wouldn't want to run the risk of E. coli on top of everything else."

"'Hold cat's head vertically and pour two pints of water down her throat to wash pill down.'"

The two men looked at each other with dread.

Four hours later a weary team of detectives climbed the stairs to Flamingo's apartment. They'd had to take the note with them.

Starsky remembered exactly what the next set of directions were. "14) Get partner to drive you to emergency room, sit quietly while doctor stitches finger and forearm and removes pill remnants from right eye."

Hutch had been anything but quiet while he'd been stitched up. Starsky thought his partner had really exceeded himself in the colorful metaphor department. But at least the doctor had assured him that the pill parts wouldn't cause permanent damage to Starsky's eye. And the gauze eye patch wasn't that inconvenient. He thought he might even be able to manipulate some sympathy for it later. Much later.

He glanced at the note, moving it around to focus on it. "Call furniture shop on way home to order new table." They gotten that done.

"What's the last thing to do on that damned list?" Hutch asked tiredly as they entered the disheveled wreck of Flamingo's apartment. They both glared at the parrotlet before he could add anything.

Starsky sighed and read, "'15) Call the vet around the corner and arrange for his technician to stop over in an hour with more pills. She'll bring them over and pill the cat by herself if you guys haven't had any luck.'"

Hutch stared at him, but for once could find nothing to say. He sat down heavily on one of the dining room chairs.

"There is one more thing," Starsky said quietly, making sure he was out of Hutch's reach.

His partner opened his mouth but was so overwhelmed with emotion he could only stutter helplessly, "Wh-wh-what now?"

Starsky swallowed. "We have to give the male Doberman a pill."

Hutch went pale and gripped his chair. "Starsky. That's a ninety pound dog. If this is what happened to us trying to pill an eight pound cat, we could be killed trying to do the same thing with that animal!"

Starsky shook his head, put the tattered note on the dining room table and said, "I don't think so."

Calmly, he went to the refrigerator and pulled out a small piece of cheese.

"Oh, come on Starsky, don't be stupid about this. The vet tech will do it when she brings the pill for the 'Queen of Mean!'" He looked over at the cat who was once again laying resplendent in the center of the sofa, glowering at all she surveyed and defying the two cops to come near her.

"No, really, Hutch, we can handle this. I followed the directions."

"Starsky, no!" Hutch insisted, forcing himself to drag his battered body out of the chair.

"Come on, boy, come on fella," Starsky called toward the bedroom. The muscular black and tan dog stretched and ambled slowly toward Starsky.

"I can't believe after all we've been through you're going to do this," Hutch complained. "You don't expect me to help you, do you, because I've been brutalized enough for one day."

"It's okay, Hutch. Read this." Starsky handed Hutch the note.

There was only one more line. It read: "How to pill the dog. Put pill in piece of cheese. Hold out your hand."

In amazement, Hutch watched as the massive dog came to his partner, slurped up the piece of pill-hiding cheese, then ambled back to the bedroom to get more sleep.

Without looking at his partner, Starsky said cheerfully. "There. That wasn't hard. I wonder if cheese would work on the cat." He turned to his partner to see his reaction, but could only stare. "Oh, Hutch, wow, don't cry. Oh, you've had a hard day, haven't you? Now, come on, I'm going to put you to bed with a cup of hot tea and some Advil and everything will look better in the morning."

He would call the vet from their apartment. He'd suggest the tech try a piece of cheese.