All usual disclaimers apply, I don't own the rights, I don't get money and this is for entertainment only. Please excuse any errors; they are entirely mine.

This is my little answer to Pony's story challenge (on shgfanfic list), to use all of the following words in a story or snippet: Hoover vacuum, Siamese cat, green pickup, toilet bowl cleaner, bantam rooster, electronics store, and Verdi opera.

Getting It Right
By Starsky's Strut

Starsky was using his Hoover to vacuum his carpet when he snagged it on the edge of a rug and it immediately began to unravel as the yarn was sucked in and wrapped around the brush head. Grumbling about the damage and inconvenience, he hit the off button with his foot. He had just flipped the Hoover on its side and had started to pull the yarn out of the brush head when a single 'pop' alerted him of the sound of gunfire in the alley in back of his apartment.

He grabbed his Beretta out of its holster and bolted for the door. He dashed out the door and started down the steps of his apartment. He nearly tripped over the neighbor's Siamese cat on his way down. It spat and hissed at him, claws slashing at his pant legs. He danced away from the raking claws and nearly took a header down the steps as he struggled to avoid the cat. He caught his balance with the help of the banister and hopped over the angry cat as he ran for the alley. There was another pop of gunfire.

With his Beretta held at the ready in front of him, Starsky halted for a moment and listened before carefully easing his way around the side of his building to the back alley where the shots had come from. There was a third pop. Adrenalin surged through his veins and he struggled to calm his breathing so he could hear what was going on in the alley. Starsky mentally kicked himself for not calling for backup before exiting his apartment. It was too late now, but hopefully some concerned citizen would call the police for him.

He edged around the corner and spotted an old green Chevy truck idling in the small parking lot with its hood up. Starsky quickly scanned the area and noticed a pair of feet sticking out from under the truck, they didn't move.

'Dammit!' he thought as he continued to check the area. One vic down… it looked like the poor guy had tried to hide under his truck. Starsky didn't know how badly the man was hurt. He didn't see the perp anywhere, so he decided to take a chance; he had to check on the man's condition.

Starsky crouched low and made his way to the battered old truck. He continued to check the area looking for the perp, he gun at the ready. He tugged on the exposed legs. There was a muffled 'whap' then a groan. He started to try to comfort the man and let him know that help had arrived. "It's all right-"

"Gol dang it David! Ya 'bout give me a heart attack!"

"Mr. Perkins-"

"Yeah, it's me… what th' hell's gotten into ya? Huh?" The older man cut him off as he scooted out from under the truck, shooting Starsky a dirty look as he rubbed his now sore forehead, unknowingly smearing grease across it as he did so.

"I heard shots-"

"Dang it boy! It weren't gunshots ya heard, it's my new truck-" As if on cue, the green Chevy sputtered and conveniently backfired. "Ya need a vacation boy, iff'in' yer mistakin' backfire fer gunfire." Perkins gave a disgusted snort as he shook his head, as he lay back down and scooted back under his truck.

Blushing furiously, Starsky got to his feet and sheepishly brushed the dirt off his knees. He then bounced over to the Torino, pulled out his keys and got in. He might as well take a break from house cleaning since he was already outside. Cleaning the toilet bowl was next on his list of house chores and he'd just as soon put it off for a little while. He then remembered he was out of toilet bowl cleaner and figured he might as well go to the store and get some. He put the car in gear and headed off to pick some up.

When he got to there, he noticed some of the local teenagers were hanging posters in the store windows. 'That's right, it's homecoming this week' He thought as he admired the artwork on one of the posters. It was that of a bantam rooster in full crow. The banner read 'GO ROOSTERS GO!'

'Ah to be back in High School again…' He smiled at the thought, but then remembered the down side of those years, the acne, the cracking voice, the raging hormones… the embarrassing walks down the hallways with his books in front of his… uh, lap… covering up his…uh… Starsky blushed violently and was suddenly very thankful those days were pretty much over.

He picked up some root beer and a frozen pizza at the store 'cuz he felt weird about just getting the toilet bowl cleaner. 'How obvious would that be?' He could very clearly imagine what the checkout lady would think if he did that. She would stand there, snapping her gum, with her hip resting against the countertop as she rang up the item. 'I bet he's gonna clean his toilet when he gets home.' He shook that thought away as he approached the register.

Starsky paid for the items and trotted to his car. He was putting his bag in the car, when he noticed that the electronics store across the way was having an 'Eight Track Tape Blowout Sale'. He dashed over and entered, with high hopes of finding Fats Domino, Buddy Holly or maybe a Big Bopper tape. He was very disappointed to find that the 'Blowout Sale' consisted of one lonely little bin of Verdi opera tapes. "Damn, I just can't get anything right today" a disheartened and empty handed Starsky made his way back to his car and his cleaning chores.

The End

Hey Pony, I even used them in the order you gave them; do I get extra credit? VBG