Author's Note: This is just a little ficlet, in honor of the upcoming holiday. Happy Easter, everyone!

-ck

Disclaimer: I do not own these beloved characters, and I am writing for fun and feedback, not for profit.


CRACKING WISE

by InitialLuv

Judge Milton C. Hardcastle wandered into his kitchen with thoughts of grabbing a beer and some peanuts. Once he pushed open the swinging door, the idea of a snack soon fled his mind.

No wonder he isn't in there watching the Dodgers with me. He's too busy destroying my kitchen.

Mark McCormick sat at the small kitchen table, presiding over a chaotic collection of kitchen supplies. There were mugs full of colored water, random spoons and a small pair of scissor tongs, a half-full bottle of vinegar, a couple of partially burned taper candles, and the dish drainer that usually sat on the counter next to the sink. Resting in the dish drainer were several dyed eggs. Everything was on top of a layer of newspapers, which McCormick had spread out onto the table as an ersatz tablecloth.

"What the hell are you doing?"

McCormick squeezed a few drops of yellow food coloring into a mug, then looked up. "I'll clean it all up, Judge. And look–" he gestured at the newspaper, "–I covered the table, just in case I spilled."

Hardcastle stared at the red, blue, and green puddles spotting different areas of the newspaper. "Just in case?"

"Okay, well, yeah," Mark admitted, "I found out the spoons weren't working too well. The eggs just kinda rolled off them into the mugs, and then the dye splattered. The tongs work a lot better."

The judge wrinkled his nose against the sharp smell of vinegar. "Just a big kid," he muttered. Then, after looking closer at the mess: "Hey! Are those my coffee mugs you're using?"

"Don't worry – I'll wash them." McCormick held up a placating hand. Hardcastle noticed the ex-con's fingers were stained several different colors. "I'll clean everything. Really."

Hardcastle shook his head. "All I wanted was a snack, and to watch the ball game. And I come in to see this. Why can't you do this in the gatehouse?"

"Come on, Judge." Mark inserted the tongs into one of the mugs, checked the color of the egg, then lowered it back into the dye. "I don't have the space or the supplies or the big pot to boil two dozen eggs in."

"Two dozen?"

McCormick shrugged. "A few always crack. Those are in the fridge. I was thinking of using them to make some potato salad, maybe try Sarah's recipe." He checked the egg in the mug with the green dye, and satisfied with the color, carefully placed it in the dish drainer to dry. The judge leaned over to study the rainbow hues of the eggs in the drainer.

"How'd you draw on these?" he wondered, seeing the designs and writing on the ovals.

"Candle," McCormick said, placing an egg into the mug with the yellow dye. "A crayon works better, but those are in short supply here at the Lone Ranger's homestead, so I found some candles in the junk drawer."

"A candle, hmm?"

"Yeah. You write or draw on the eggs before you put them in the dye. The color won't stick to the wax." Mark grabbed a nearby dishtowel – also now with several different colors decorating it – and wiped off his hands. He reached to pull an egg out of the dish drainer. "See this one? I tried drawing a seagull on it. Didn't come out too great, but. . . " Returning the egg to the drainer, he picked another. "This red one came out pretty good. See? I wrote 'Skid' on it." McCormick handed his creation to the judge with a proud smile.

Hardcastle admired the egg, and smiled a little himself. "Enjoying yourself, huh?" he said, gently placing the egg back in the dish drainer.

Mark nodded, and happily returned to his studio. "Yes, I am. I dunno. . . It just hit me that Easter's this Sunday, and my mom and I always colored eggs on Good Friday, and I kind of wanted to remember that, you know?" His smile faded temporarily, then returned in full force. "You should have seen the mess I made of this when I was a kid. Although I think sometimes I would ruin an egg on purpose so I could eat it right away. I hated having to wait until Easter to eat them."

The judge gazed at the colored eggs in the dish drainer. "I don't suppose I could eat one of these now?" he asked, suddenly recalling that he'd initially come into the kitchen looking for a snack.

"Yeah, but wait." Mark pulled the drainer closer. "I made one specifically for you. Here." He picked up a blue egg, and presented it to Hardcastle.

Hardcastle took the egg, then held it out a ways so he could clearly see the word written on it. It read "DONKEY."

The judge looked away from the egg in his hand, and glared at the young man currently grinning widely at him.

"Just a big kid," Hardcastle said again, as McCormick began to laugh.

END