Disclaimer: No MM have been harmed in the creation of these situations. Well, not intentionally. Thanks to JE for providing us with such lovely characters to play with. I promise to clean off the jello from the boys when I'm done with them ... it may be a while.

Thanks to those of you who shoot jello on a regular basis and who know that Hal will ultimately survive all of this. Without your support, I would never have tried to play with any of them. Cat, all kudos to you - and Hal wants you to know that he likes Cherry Jello the best, said you'd understand why.

The Ultimate Debate: Which is better?
By Alfonsina

"Hal, man, you're just proving your ignorance, again," he said to me.

"I am not. It's a matter of personal taste and preference. We don't have to agree on everything, do we?" I asked.

"No, but if you were a smart man, Hal, you'd agree with me."

Ass wipe.

"This is the whole po-tay-to po-tah-to thing isn't it? We don't have to agree on everything just because you think you're right," I said. I was beginning to lose my patience with Brett. He was being pompous, arrogant and a royal pain in the ass.

"You are missing the point, she's sexier," he said.

For the love of all that is holy. Who really cared about this crap anyway?

"I'd rather have wholesome than sexy."

"You don't know how to live. It's pretty obvious," he said, "the only reasonable choice is Ginger."

"MaryAnne."

"Ginger."

"Look, it was just a television show from forever ago. You do know that those are just actresses, right?" Sometimes Brett really isn't that smart.

"Yeah, but Ginger was really hot."

"She wasn't smart or even that nice, really."

"Man, you think she was shallow. She wasn't a gold digger," Brett said sounding a big indignant. "If she were, she would have tried to break up the Howell's marriage."

"Yeah, but MaryAnne could cook. Food's an important thing if you are on a desert island."

I got an IM on my blackberry. It read: How's the stakeout?

The IM was from George. George was relatively new to Rangeman and was based in the Boston office. Computer department, I think, the liaison between the field offices and Silvio. They were looking for bugs in a new search program. Evidently the field office workers weren't succinct enough for Silvio and so complaints, problems and questions were being routed through George.

I resent having to go through someone to talk to Silvio; I have a degree in computer science and built websites for fun and profit during my off time. I just happened to like being in the field. Now I had to deal with a snot nosed newbie for the computer stuff in addition to being stuck with Brett for the night.

I texted back: "Slow night. I'm in the middle of the ultimate debate with Brett."

"I give, what's the ultimate debate?"

"Ginger or MaryAnne."

I hoped that Brett would keep his mouth shut, he tends to tattle on whoever was with him and not following procedure 100%. I really didn't want to get stuck on monitor duty.

Lester had ruined it for all of us. He'd been texting one of the many girlfriends and missed out on an easy apprehension. Since then, Ranger considered texting to be giving less than full attention to the job at hand, namely watching for the skip.

I got another text: "Change the playing field and ask who's better, Wilma or Betty?"

Sounded good and it would keep me from the Ginger MaryAnne thing again.

"So Brett, who do you like better, Wilma or Betty?"

"Betty was totally hot; an incredible babe."

He's got to be kidding, right?

"Dude, you are so wrong. If you like Ginger, you've got to like Wilma; they are both redheads. If you like Betty, you've got to like MaryAnne." I personally didn't care one way or the other, but it took the burden off of me and I wouldn't have to justify my reasoning to him any more.

"Nah, man. It isn't like that. Betty is more fun and she's got the cute giggle. Ginger has all that cleavage. No contest."

How much longer was I going to be stuck in the truck with this bozo anyway? Forever.

"Brett, what exactly do you do with your free time anyway?"

"I watch the classics on TV. And I like Ethel better than Lucy if you are keeping score; looks like Ethel knows how to make some killer fudge or some chocolate chip cookies."

"Based on Ethel's figure, she probably knew how to eat those things, not necessarily make them."

He sighed and looked at me like I was the biggest idiot he'd ever encountered.

"You wanna walk the perimeter while I stay in the truck?" he asked.

"Sure. I'll be back in fifteen," I said grabbing my jacket and checking my flashlight. Even though the flashlight is a standard part of the equipment on the utility belt, the batteries sometimes go dead. I'd been left in the dark a couple of times because I'd forgotten to check the flashlight before I went on shift. I had a checklist now, but I still did a double check before I went anywhere.

"Paranoid much?" Brett asked.

Nope. I wasn't paranoid, but I sure the hell wasn't going to fall in a ditch again because I couldn't see where I was walking.

I got halfway around the building when my blackberry went off again. It said: "So? Wilma or Betty?"

I smiled, George wasn't any better than Brett. I sent a message back that said, "He likes Betty."

I finished walking the perimeter, checked the fence line and returned to the rig.

"Anything?" I asked as I climbed back into the truck.

"It's about as exciting as watching paint dry," Brett said.

"Only an hour left then Caesar and Zip spell us." Thank God. I couldn't wait to be out of there and anywhere else with anyone else.

"Since we've got some time, which do you like better, peanut butter or chocolate?"

"Peanut butter," I said with a sigh.

"You really don't know how to live do you? You can do so much with chocolate. It takes the edge off a bad day, it melts in your mouth, you can melt it and cover fruit in it…"

I was starting to feel like I was living in a scene out of Forest Gump. You know the one where he's on the bus on his way to basic training and the kid next to him is going on about shrimp, except this was all about chocolate. If I had answered chocolate, would he be extolling the virtues of peanut butter?

"Peanut butter is shelf stable, a good source of protein and I like how it tastes," I said, though why I was continuing to engage him I really didn't know.

"Chunky or smooth?"

Good Lord, was this ever going to end?

"Does it matter?"

"Sure, if you are going to bake with it you might want smooth. If you've got bad teeth, you might want smooth."

"In that case, I like smooth peanut butter."

"But what's wrong with chunky? Don't you like having a little texture in your food?"

Wasn't this shift ever going to end?

"Brett?"

"Yeah?"

"Back when you were in high school, were you a member of the debate club?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Lucky guess," I said blowing out a sigh. Only 58 minutes left until I could get the hell out of here.

TBC ….

A/N: Each of the MM have been in search of a story that's just for them … Hal and Brett will be sharing this one … and yes, the debates are the like the beat, it goes on … Alf.