Napoleon Solo settled into his office in the New York headquarters of UNCLE after an extended assignment in Pennsylvania. Somehow before coming home he ended up at the factory in Bethlehem where they manufactured the Easter confections known as 'Peeps.' He had fond but mixed memories of those sweet treats from the 50S. They were all the rage when they hit the market, and since then they'd become a mainstay of Easter treats.

His mother would always make up an Easter basket and send it to him while he was serving in Korea. He'd come in at the tail end of the war and these care packages from home meant a lot, to the guys in the unit, that is. Mom was always sure to send extra boxes of the treats for them. Napoleon didn't have the heart to tell her he couldn't stand the little yellow things...

Peeps seemed to last forever and nothing could destroy them. Lord knows, he and his buddies Scotty Bob MacKenna and Billy Brasch tried.* They performed experiments on batches of the marshmallow chicks to see how easily they could be dissolved, burned or otherwise disintegrated, using such agents as cigarette smoke, boiling water and even liquid nitrogen. Eventually when they went stale, they were just used for target practice...that was how many mom sent.

Napoleon suddenly had the brilliant idea to have some of the marshmallow Peeps sent to all his lady friends at headquarters, since Easter was only a few days away.

"Who could resist these cute yellow marshmallow confections?" Solo thought to himself, and laughed as he sounded like a commercial. He could resist, however, but he knew the ladies back at UNCLE couldn't. The order was placed for thirty packages; checking his little black book to ensure no one was left out.

Several days later his Russian partner returned from his own assignment, passing the comment that there was a large box addressed to Napoleon sitting in Security. It had been tested for explosives as well as other nefarious residues and cleared.

"A package for me?"

"A rather sizeable one, and it was shipped from Bethlehem Pennsylvania," Illya answered, with his pseudo British-Russian accent. "Were you not just there?"

"Yes, and I did order something to be sent here, but it wasn't a big..." Napoleon hesitated, "Wait, let's go have a look at this box chum."

Solo stood with his mouth agape as he lifted the flaps to the large cardboard box sitting there in the Security office. It was filled to the brim with packages of Peeps all right, but the shipping bill listed the contents as being 300 units instead of the 30 he'd ordered.

"Well this is a big mistake," Napoleon said, picking up the telephone receiver from the black rotary phone on the wall and placing a call to the company.

"Just Born company, home of the Peeps. How can I help you?" A pleasant-sounding woman answered. "Just a reminder, we're coming out with a new color this year...Periwinkle blue."

Napoleon recounted his problem to her.

"You received a box of 300 instead of 30? No sir that can't be. Our records show that your order of 30 packages was shipped. You prepaid it, so there's no billing issues."

"But there's 300," Napoleon repeated.

The woman at the other end chuckled. "You know what, just enjoy them. We love them here in Bethlehem and eat them year round. So you got a few extra, spread the happiness. Have a nice Easter." She hung up on him...

"Well I suppose you could just distribute them among all the employees," Illya suggested.

"No and ruin my gift to the ladies, it would undermine the fact they were being given just to them."

"Then my friend, "Illya frowned, "what are we to do with 270 boxes of these things? And by the way, what are these things, and what is their purpose?"

"They're a marshmallow treat for Easter and are supposed to resemble 'chicks.' I personally can't stand the things but the ladies, and children like them. They're purported to be nearly indestructible," he chuckled. " We did a lot of experiments on them in my army days."

Illya perked up at that bit of information. "Hmm, experiments? How interesting? Well since we have a large supply, might I continue with these so-called 'experiments?"

"Be my guest tovarisch." Napoleon smiled knowingly.

Kuryakin tooks several armfuls of the boxes down to his lab, accompanied by his partner, and there the Russian proceeded to put the 'Peeps' to the test, trying to get them to dissolve in water, steam, and liquid nitrogen, basically replicating the experiments from Napoleon's army days, all the while Illya started munching on the yellow marshmallow chicks while working, and finding them quite tasty.

"Better be careful partner, you'll get sick from eating too many," Napoleon cautioned.

"Me? With my cast iron stomach...I hardly doubt that," Illya said in all seriousness.

After unsuccessfully trying to destroy the Peeps, Illya decided to call it a day. "Come back with me to my apartment," he told Solo. "I have a bottle of vodka in the freezer calling my name, and we can order in some Chinese takeaway."

"Sounds like a plan," Napoleon chimed in. He knew his partner was frustrated at not being able to break down something a simple as a marshmallow chick with his science. Illya wasn't one to be outwitted, much less by an Easter confection. No doubt there would be more discussion on this subject over dinner.

As they left the lab Napoleon noticed his partner secreting more packages of the Peeps into his briefcase, and wondered if they were for consumption or further experimentation. He reasoned that Illya could in no way want to eat more of the seemingly imperishable candy, and had to think the ones he'd already ingested were probably settling in his gut like the proverbial rock, cast iron or no cast iron stomach.

They arrived at Illya's apartment, and not long after which the takeaway was delivered from Changs, and together the partners sat at the table doling out their portions to their plates. Illya switched on the radio for a little dinner entertainment...

Napoleon noted his partner, known for his voluminous appetite, wasn't piling on his food to his plate, as was his usual habit, and he mused at the thought of the Peeps doing their thing to the Russian's innards.

Illya rose from his seat, heading into the kitchen to retrieve his bottle of vodka from the freezer, passing on the Chinese tea that Napoleon was having with his dinner.

When he returned, his eyes momentarily opened wide as he saw Peeps piled all over his food, like puffy yellow garnishments. Illya said nothing as he reseated himself at the table, digging in with his chopsticks, and bit into one of the marshmallow chicks, swallowing it along with a mouthful of pork Lo Mein.

Napoleon shrugged off his disappointment that his joke went over like a lead balloon, and watched as his partner gobbled up everything in front of himself.

When he was done, Illya poured a large glass of vodka, and in a moment of impulse he dropped one of the Peeps into his glass, watching with amusement as it floated until it suddenly melted away, creating a foaming marshmallow head on top of the vodka.

After looking at it in bemusement, Illya downed the glassful with an 'ahhhh' of satisfaction.

"How could you drink that... it looked disgusting? Napoleon finally blurted out.

"To the contrary, it was surprisingly nice," Illya smiled as he proceeded to concoct another and another like a little mad scientist.

"It seems it took something Russian to destroy that which was indestructible," he announced proudly with a hiccup. Apparently mixed with the alcohol content and makeup of the vodka, the sugary confection speeded up the process of one becoming inebriated...even for a Russian who drank vodka like it was water. "By the way, did you know it was a Russian who invented these yellow, hic...things?"

"Come Napoleon, you musht join the exshperiment," Illya slurred, handing him the bottle of Scotch always reserved for him in the liquor cabinet.

Solo figured 'what the heck' as he dropped one of the Peeps into his glass, watching it dissolve into a sweet liquid mush.

"Here's Peeps in your eye," he toasted to his partner.

"Why would I want one in my eye?" The drunken Russian asked in bewilderment...

Just then a commercial came over the radio:

"Those little soft cute slightly sparkly sugar-coated marshmallow critters. Peeps just scream happiness and joy and cheer. Well, maybe not scream. Peeps don't seem to be a loud bunch. Radiate. That's a better word. They radiate joy, cheer, goodness and fun I just love to look at Peeps. And maybe give them a little squeeze! Seeing them evokes feelings of Easter and Spring and happiness...

"Vot k Peeps! " Illya laughed as he toasted with an unsteady hand.

"Yes, here's to Peeps, "Napoleon repeated. This went on into the wee hours, as his partner had brought home more boxes of the confections than he had realized.

The next morning as Solo and Kuryakin both woke up, after having passed out on the floor some time during the night. Their hangovers were possibly the worst both had ever experienced. As to Peeps evoking 'happiness'... they would have argued against that statement, armed to the teeth with guns in their hands.

"Hey lets use those yellow things for target practice," Solo mumbled, knowing how many boxes were still back at headquarters. "After that, I don't ever want to see one again."

"Fine, but not until my head stops pounding. I think a few of those yellow creatures are loose in my head and pecking at my brain." Illya suddenly gagged, and made a quick beeline to the bathroom.

Napoleon grinned, holding his own throbbing cranium, but taking enjoyment in the fact there was finally something that didn't agree with Illya Kuryakins infamous stomach.

"THRUSH better not find out about this," he chuckled to himself, picturing them trying to torture Illya with those fluffy yellow marshmallow chicks...

.

* ref to "Brothers Old and New" posted on under Mlaw on