Impractical Jokes
by mapark

Emergency! and its characters are owned by Universal and Mark VII, but I like to trot them out now and again and mess around with them before I put them back.

Shift One:

Hank withdrew a newspaper clipping from the file in front of them, sighed, then shrugged and headed to the day room. His crew should be there soon enough, and he wanted to get this latest wrinkle out of the way before they started their shift. He was surprised to see that all his regular crew was here – it was just the temporary firefighter who hadn't yet arrived. He cleared his throat, and tossed the clipping on the table in front of his linesman while he went to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup.

Chet snatched up the clipping, and scowled at the caption under the small photo proclaiming, "Feminists praise Los Angeles County Fire Department for leading the way by hiring three female firefighters."

"Is this a joke, Cap? I know that's my sister in the photo… I've seen that clipping every time I visit her, and I hear about her life as a paramedic all the time." He tossed the clipping back to the table and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure, I know she's tough, but that doesn't mean I wanna work with her."

"No joke, Chet – guess who's replacing Marco for the next couple of weeks? Not your sister, but Holly Ramsey," Hank said, sipping his coffee and suppressing a grin at his linesman's discomposure.

"Do you mean we're getting one of them while Marco's on vacation?" Chet asked indignantly.

Johnny laughed at Chet's protest. "Chet, you make it sound like someone from another planet. She's only a girl. She won't bite – unless you ask her very nicely." He picked up an apple from the counter and started munching on it as he sat down at the table next to Chet. "'Course, she'd have to be nuts or drunk to want to do that," he smirked.

Chet gave Johnny a humourless smile. "Just you wait, Gage, things will be all wrong. I mean, I'm used to having Marco on the other end of that hose line. Some chick is not going to be able to do the same job as Marco, it's that simple."

Johnny stared at him in amazement. "Chet, you've never made this kind of fuss the other times Marco's been on vacation. Besides, aren't you the one who said that a girl can do this job just as well as a man? At least after you saw Cassie doing it..."

Chet replied with some heat, "You know that's a completely different situation. It's not because she's a girl, it's because she's my sister. And she and Katya are working as paramedics, not firefighters. Totally different case."

Johnny enjoyed Chet's discomfort tremendously. "They're also trained as firefighters, and none of them would've passed unless they were good enough. Are you saying your sister isn't a girl?" he needled, taking advantage of a rare opportunity to get even with his habitual tormentor.

"Of course she's a girl. And pretty damned strong… but that's not the point. She, Katya and Holly are sort of an experiment the department's running, and who knows what things will be like when they're finished their little tests after a year or so?"

Johnny shook his head. "You amaze me sometimes, Chet. You're as much of a male chauvinist pig as I am, and you don't hear me dissing them."

"Yeah, well, it won't be your life on the line if she's too weak to handle the hoses."

Unseen by either of them, Holly Ramsey had come in. She was about to speak when Mike waved her to silence. Smiling wickedly, she paused in the doorway, folded her arms across her chest, and cocked her head to the side as she listened to Chet and Johnny.

Chet continued, oblivious to Holly's presence. "Gage, it's a matter of anatomy and strength. You know what it's like on a hose line. You and your partner have to be a team. You have to be balanced," he insisted, taking a sip of some coffee.

Holly uncrossed her arms, glanced down at her chest and said loudly, "Are you suggesting that I'm not balanced, Chet?"

Chet choked and sputtered on his coffee as the others laughed. Holly turned to Mike, juggled her hands in front of her chest and asked, "I don't know, Mike, you're the engineer. Should I have 'em rotated or something? We wouldn't want Chet to be off balance, would we?"

There was more laughter and Johnny smiled brightly. At last, someone who might be able to trip up the Phantom. I know from KJ and the others at Station 16 all about your perverted sense of humour involving Jell-O. I'll bet Chet doesn't know about that – not yet, anyway!

Hank put down his mug of coffee and approached Holly with his hand outstretched. "Welcome aboard, Holly," he said as he shook her hand. "I'll show you where you can stow your gear." She followed him into the locker room and started to unload her knapsack. Hank quirked an eyebrow as he saw Holly carefully tuck at least half a dozen packages of Jell-O under her hat on the shelf of the locker. "Is there something I should know about this?" he asked in amusement, gesturing at the cache of Jell-O.

Holly answered seriously, with a completely straight face, "Captain, I'm never without a Jell-O supply, no matter where I go. You never know when a perfect opportunity will arise. And I think a pigeon has just flown into my little trap," she added, her lips twisting into an impish smile.

Hank put up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Keep me out of it – and don't let it get out of hand, okay?"

Holly smirked and said, "Cap, you've got a deal. Which is Chet's locker?"

Hank shook his head. "You'll have to get another co-conspirator. Try Johnny," he suggested, while gesturing her to the dorm. He led the way to a curtained-off alcove in the corner of the dorm. "You'll sleep here, and we've put a sign on the bathroom that can be flipped to 'women' when you're using the facilities. Any questions?"

"No, Captain, I think that covers the bases. I don't suppose you'd care to point out Chet's bed?" she asked in a hopeful tone.

Hank laughed and shook his head. "No fair, Holly – you already know the answer to that one. Just tread lightly."

She gave him a sharp salute. "Aye-aye, Captain! I guess we'd better get to roll call, right?" she asked, adjusting her badge and brushing an imaginary speck of dust off her pants.

He gestured for her to precede him to the engine bay. She gave him a small bow, then went to roll call. She noticed Chet eying her speculatively, and she glanced coyly at him out of the corner of her eye, then flashed him a quick Cheshire-cat smile before schooling her features into a more neutral expression. He looked back in momentary confusion, and she flashed her dimples at him. His brow furrowed slightly, and Holly thought to herself, This is going to be soooo easy! I'll give him enough line to hang himself, then I'll reel him in, sloooowly.

Johnny noticed the subtle interchange with some interest. At last, a worthy ally in the continuing war with the Phantom!

"Okay, everyone, listen up. We have hydrant inspections on Market, River, Dayton, and Boone. Kelly, you're on latrine duty. Ramsey, Stoker, hose room – 'C' shift had an apartment house fire last shift, so there's plenty of hose to scrub and hang. Gage, kitchen. DeSoto, dorm. Any questions? Okay, we'll do the hydrants at around ten o'clock. Who's cooking today?" Hank asked.

Mike spoke up, "I'm the chef of the day, Cap."

Hank looked at his clipboard. "Okay, Ramsey, that means you're the cook for the next shift." At her look of dismay, he asked, "Something wrong?"

Holly cleared her throat and said, "You might not like my cooking. See, it'll be Pesach, so I'm kind of limited in what I can prepare."

Chet asked, "What is Pesach?"

She replied, "That's the Hebrew word for 'Passover'. There are all kinds of things that I'm not supposed to eat or prepare during that time. However, there are some reasonably tasty things that can be prepared that are still Kosher."

Hank's eyebrows rose slightly, then he said, a bit uncomfortably, "I'm sure you'll do fine. Okay, everyone, let's get to work."

After roll call was over, Holly strolled over to Chet, tickled him under the chin and said, "Okay, Chet, how do you want to work this when we get a call? Do you want to be lead man on the hose or backup?"

Chet coughed in embarrassment, cleared his throat nervously, and said, "I'll lead, you'll do backup. Just how long have you been a firefighter, anyway?" he asked.

She gave him a look of exasperation, and patted his cheek. "Long enough to know which end of a hose is which. C'mon, Chet. I've been Cassie's roommate for a couple of years, you know how long it's been since your sister and I graduated from the academy; do the math," she said sweetly, heading to the hose room.

Johnny's grin broadened at Chet's discomfort. "What's the matter, Chet? Met your match?"

Chet flushed. "Shut up, Gage. At least she's got more on the ball than you do – but then, so does a hamster."

Johnny was about to speak, when he was interrupted by the klaxon.

"Station 51, structure fire, 1288 Hillier. One-two-eight-eight Hillier, cross-street Phillips. Time out, 08:13."

-E!-

Hank was pleased. He admitted to himself that he had been a bit concerned about how Holly would work out, but she'd just dispelled any doubts he'd had. She certainly had no trouble with working a hose line or the strenuous job of overhauling. As they pulled into the station, he glanced back to the compartment. Chet was grinning broadly as he and Holly chatted. Holly made a remark that Hank couldn't hear, and he was amused to see the grin slide almost comically off Chet's face. Hank smiled widely at the look of bewilderment that replaced Chet's grin. This is going to be an interesting couple of weeks...

As everyone climbed out of the engine, Hank said, "Holly, could I see you for a minute in the office?"

She frowned slightly and said, "Sure, Cap." She followed him to the office and asked, "Is something wrong?"

He looked startled, waved her to a chair and said reassuringly, "No, Holly. Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to ask if you'll still be doing the 'C' shift at 16's while you're doing the 'A' shift here." He sat down in his office chair, grimacing at the squeaks, and pulled out his pen and notebook.

A red flush coloured her face; she avoided meeting his eyes and mumbled, "That's the plan. I kind of, uh, accidentally destroyed part of Carl's car, so I needed to pull as much overtime in a hurry as I could. He's not quite going to kill me, but he's still pretty mad about it."

Captain Stanley leaned slightly forward in his chair, a frown on his face, and asked, "What, exactly, did you do?"

She squirmed a bit and said, "I kinda pulled a practical joke that sort of backfired. I meant to tell him what to do to fix things, but we had a late run that day and I forgot."

Hank gestured for her to continue, so she gulped and rushed into the explanation. "Well, he had been going on about how he could fix any problem with any vehicle with his eyes closed, so I pulled a trick I learned from one of my buddies on a movie set. It's guaranteed to stop a car without really damaging it. We had to film a scene where I was driving the getaway car from a robbery when the engine gets shot out. It was a budget film, so we couldn't really damage the car, but we wanted to get the idea across... Anyway, Phil just popped a couple of ping-pong balls in the gas tank, and that did the trick." She leaned forward eagerly, completely in her element. Her eyes glittered as she continued. "See, the balls get sucked into the gas feed, and the car just… dies. After a bit, the balls float back to the top of the gas tank, and the car starts normally. It will drive you crazy, because the same thing will happen over and over again. Anyway, Carl was being a real pain in the butt that day, so I just popped a couple of ping-pong balls into his gas tank, and the rest is history."

Hank was riveted. "So what happened then?"

Holly coughed nervously. "He took the engine apart and couldn't find anything wrong, so he figured it had to be the gas feed and he dismantled it. After he drained the gas, he kinda found the ping-pong balls, and my ass was grass. He knew it had to be me, even though I usually specialize in Jell-O, and he gave me the bill from the garage where he did the work. The look on his face was priceless! Well, not quite priceless," she said, wincing as she remembered how much the bill was. "I'm not scheduled for any stunt work for another couple of months, and I couldn't afford to pay it unless I got some overtime, so I jumped at the chance when Don sprained his ankle the other day and couldn't cover Marco's shift any more…." she shrugged.

Hank smothered a smile, cleared his throat and said, "What happens if you've got a late run at 16's?"

Holly replied earnestly, "I've already got that one covered, Cap. Andy Fredericks, from 51's 'C' shift and Bubba Yates from 16's 'A' shift have agreed to cover if there's a late run. Bubba said he'd come in half an hour early so I could leave 16's 'C' shift, and Andy said he'd stay until I could get here. Andy said it would be a nice change to ride the engine instead of driving it. Besides, it would give him and Mike a chance to continue their endless arguments about which is the better engine – the Crown or the Ward-LaFrance. Hopefully, I won't have to call on either of them to cover for me. Anyway, it's only five shifts here and four there. It's not any more tiring than trying to get a movie under wraps. Mind you, I may need a vacation after all this."

Hank said, "Well, I guess you'd better get back to work. And keep away from people's gas tanks, okay?"

"Don't worry, Cap. I've learned my lesson – besides, I can't afford to pay for the damage to another car."

-E!-

While Holly had been talking with Captain Stanley, Chet had prepared a little surprise for her in the hose room. He seethed a bit inwardly, remembering the remarks she had made on the way back from the last run. All I did was suggest that she help me out with a prank on Gage, and she comes back with 'Okay, if you're not capable of pulling a practical joke on your own, I guess I can help you.' Hah! The Phantom'll show her a thing or two about pranks...

"Okay, Mike, I'm trustin' ya here," Chet muttered, setting the spring on the trap under the pile of untidily piled lengths of hose.

Mike grunted, as he straightened the length of hose he was working on. "Chet, I'm Switzerland – strictly neutral in all things." He reached for the broom, dipped it in the bucket of soapy water, and bent to his task. "Uh, shouldn't you be cleaning the latrines about now? Cap will have a fit if he thinks you're avoiding your favourite chore."

Chet scowled and nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I guess I don't need to hover around…"

They both stopped talking when Holly entered the room. She looked at them suspiciously. "What's the matter, guys? Boy talk?" she asked innocently.

Chet said quickly, "Nothing important that can't wait for a while. I'll talk to you later, Mike." He slowly headed for the door, casting a speculative glance at Holly.

She stared back at him for a minute, crinkled her nose, then shrugged and asked Mike, "Which hoses need to be scrubbed and hung?"

Mike gestured to an untidy pile of hose at the side of the room. She picked up a nozzle, only to have one of Chet's water traps catch her full in the face. She gasped, startled, then looked at Chet. To both Chet's and Mike's surprise, she started to laugh. "Oh, boy, Chet, you will live to regret that! To think I was actually going to behave at this station, too! You don't know what you've started, little boy!" She bent to analyze the water trap. "Hmm... a can of water attached to a spring mechanism. Crude and OLD," she emphasized, "Yet reasonably effective." She wiped her face and wrung some of the water from her hair, then walked over to Chet and shook his hand. "Let the games begin," she said solemnly with a twinkle in her eye. She slapped his back with her left hand before heading to the locker room to get a dry shirt. Chet suddenly started squirming, then swore.

Mike looked at him in surprise. "What's the matter, Chet?"

Chet quickly unbuttoned his shirt. He dropped it on the floor, and plucked the still-wriggling worm that Holly had dropped down his back from the sleeve. He looked wordlessly at Mike, who shook his head and said, "I think you're in trouble, Chet. This could be the Phantom's downfall."

Chet immediately retorted, "Nothing beats the Phantom. I just have to change my strategy a bit." He shook his shirt to make sure there was nothing besides the worm there, and headed to the latrine to get started on his cleaning.

I wonder where she was hiding that worm? Mike thought, as he bent back to his scrubbing.

-E!-

Holly walked, dripping, into the kitchen to get a glass of water before heading to the locker room. Johnny stared at her, then groaned. "The Phantom?" he asked in sympathy.

She patted his cheek, a determined smile on her face as she drank her water. "Johnny, I'm a big girl now, I don't need anyone else to fight my battles for me. I kind of expected it, anyway, from what you said in the Second Alarm. Hey, I've got two weeks to get even. This is going to be a lot of fun – for me, anyway. It will be interesting to see what Chet can come up with. He doesn't know just how big my arsenal is, though. Plus, I have my friends from the movie industry, and they know a lot of wicked tricks. I've just got to change, then get the hoses done. Just sit tight, my friend – Chet could be in for a very uncomfortable night. Maybe not tonight, but by next shift I should have a lot more in place..." her voice trailed off as she left the kitchen. "Sorry if I dripped everywhere!" she called.

Johnny grinned in anticipation, absently mopping the floor where she'd tracked some water. I am seriously going to enjoy this. Watch out, Chet! You don't know what this lady is capable of doing.

-E!-

Holly strode into the bathroom, carrying a dry shirt and a folded towel. "Chet, can you piss off for a couple of minutes so I can dry off and change shirts?" she asked pointedly, waving the shirt in his direction.

"Uh, sure, Holly," he replied, putting down the mop and heading to the door. "Look, no hard feelings, huh?"

She laughed and said, "No problemo, Chet – I enjoy a good joke as much as the next person. Maybe even more. No hard feelings."

When Chet was out of the room, she opened the package of Jell-O and some other things she had hidden in the folds of the towel. She carefully measured out a few ingredients not normally found in Jell-O, combined them with the contents of the package, and tossed them into the nearest toilet tank. Carefully concealing all evidence, she dried her hair as much as possible by wringing out the braid, changed her shirt, then flushed one of the other toilets. She looked at the mirror, gave herself an evil grin and a wink, and wiped the smile from her face as she left the washroom.

Chet had been pacing outside the door. "What took you so long? Did you forget how to button your shirt or something?" he griped.

"Jeez, Chet, do I have to punch a clock for bathroom time? I figured I'd use the facilities while I was there. Do you have a problem with that?" she mock-growled. "Don't forget to clean everything – something smells a bit weird in there," she said in passing, as she headed to the hose room. She bit her lip, and changed direction, heading first to the dorm.

Chet's eyebrows knitted in a slight frown and he went slowly back into the washroom. Something's up. What the hell did you do, Holly? You didn't take anything in there...

Holly went into the dorm where Roy and Captain Stanley were discussing which hydrants the squad would be inspecting later that morning. She cleared her throat and said, "Excuse me. A word to the wise – don't use the toilet nearest the door for a while."

Roy looked at her quizzically, and Hank said in resignation, "Will this give me an ulcer?"

"I sure hope not, Cap, but he started it. Nothing really destructive will happen..." she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Hank gave a long-suffering sigh. "See that nothing destructive at all happens while you're here, capisce?"

"You bet, Cap. I'll just head back to work and warn the others."

-E!-

"So what's going to happen?" asked Mike with interest as he and Holly continued to scrub and hang the hoses.

"Well, once he flushes that particular toilet, the modified lemon Jell-O mixture from the water tank will react with the chemicals in the cleaner to produce a whole lot of bright yellowy-green gobs in the toilet bowl. See, when Chet wasn't looking, I added a little something extra to the water in the toilet bowl. It works much more spectacularly if there's a bit of cleanser involved, but it will still do the trick without it." She went to the door and opened it slightly. "Any second now..." she said, grinning in anticipation.

"HOLLY!" shouted Chet from the washroom. Holly galloped quickly back to the hoses and bent over them very industriously.

Mike snickered, turned to her, and asked, "How did you know how long it would take?"

She leaned over and whispered, "I just remembered how long it took for Animal to get around to doing the toilets when I pulled it on him last month. It really pays to have an older brother who teaches chemistry and physics."

Chet charged into the hose room, followed by a pair of laughing paramedics, and confronted her angrily. "Do you know how long it'll take to clean up that mess?"

She leaned on her broom and tugged her lower lip, considering. "Well, if past experience is anything to go on, probably about half an hour. Of course, I could tell you how to do it, if you like, but I find that most people seem to want to work it out for themselves."

Chet threw his hands up in disgust, and muttered darkly, "Women!" He pushed past Johnny, who laughed openly at him, and Roy, who smiled broadly. "Get out of the way!" Chet fumed. He stomped his feet loudly as he headed back to the washroom.

Johnny came over to Holly, bowed gracefully, and said, "Gentlemen, we are in the presence of a genius. My heartiest congratulations, and best wishes for the next two weeks – anything we can do to help you in your war, please do not hesitate to let us know," he said grandly, leading Mike and Roy in a round of applause.

She grinned modestly, showing her dimples, and curtsied in response. "I may take you up on that one by the last shift or two. I have a few other things planned first. Many of them will involve Jell-O, of course – I do have a reputation to maintain, after all – but they won't all involve that wonderful and remarkable substance. I do have a few other tricks up my sleeve, but Jell-O is, after all, my trademark. I am prepared for any retaliatory action, so don't worry about me, fellas. I promise that nothing I do will affect anyone's safety or well-being, even Chet's. If we're at a fire or a rescue, it's strictly business. But back at the station, he's fair game, okay? For the time being, how about you all maintain neutrality?" she suggested.

The others nodded agreement. Johnny smiled crookedly and replied, "We hear and obey, Oh Great Jell-O Queen."

Hank poked his head into the hose room. "Are the kitchen and dorm finished, fellas?" he asked pointedly. Johnny and Roy made their excuses and went back to work. "Holly, can I see you for a minute?" Hank asked.

She nodded and came over. "Cap, I promise I'll be strictly business on the job. Nobody will..."

He interrupted her, saying, "Holly, I know that – you told me earlier. I just wanted to know what sort of dietary restrictions you have. We don't want you to have to eat separate meals or anything like that when anyone else is cooking."

She looked at him gratefully. "Thanks, Cap. I really appreciate that. The day after tomorrow is the first day of Passover, so my folks will actually be dropping by Station 16 for the Seder. But, since Wednesday is the second day, it's still one of the high holy days. I presume that everyone can deal with chicken?" At his nod, she continued, "So, that's what I'll cook. Plus, I'll introduce everyone to the wonderful world of matzoh! I'll need to bring separate cooking utensils, but that shouldn't be a problem. As far as the other meals here, I should be okay as long as I don't eat any pork products. That shouldn't bar anyone else from having them, though. I'll just ask whoever is cooking to tell me what the ingredients are. Don't worry – I'm not particularly religious, it's just that my folks would kill me if I didn't at least make an effort during the high holy days."

-E!-

"Station 51, structure fire. 1702 Center Blvd. One-seven-oh-two Center Blvd, cross street Durham. Time out, 18:27."

Hank thumbed the microphone as he hastily scribbled down the address. "Station 51, 10-4. KMG 365." He gave the slip of paper to Roy, who handed it over to Johnny. As Hank climbed into the cab, he noticed Chet giving Holly a slightly sullen glance as she tried to engage him in conversation. Hank pursed his lips and looked at Mike, who shrugged and said, "If they want to act like kids..."

Hank nodded. "As long as they get the job done, they can play at home."

-E!-

"Well, that was fun!" said Chet sarcastically as they sat down to Mike's dinner of grilled steak. "What an absolute waste of time! I wish there was some way to screen out these morons with nothing better to do than call in phony alarms – especially at dinner time."

"Hey, Chet," said Holly. "Pass me the salt, please."

Johnny caught the gleam in Chet's eyes and was about to warn Holly, when a quick look from Roy halted his efforts. Johnny winced inwardly at what he knew was about to happen. Chet had pulled the same trick on him often enough.

"Here you go," said Chet, handing over the salt shaker. As the men of 51 had expected, as Holly shook the shaker, the top fell off, spilling salt all over her food. She looked sideways at Chet and replied, "Cute. I'll have to remember that one and try it on the boys at 16's." She scraped the salt to the side of the plate, then began to eat.

Johnny was a bit surprised that Holly seemed to ignore this prank, but she caught his eye and winked at him, out of Chet's sight. Johnny hid his answering grin. The next one will be Holly's. I wonder how she'll sabotage Chet's meal next shift?

-E!-

They had a routine trash fire just after two in the morning. When they got back, Holly wandered to the kitchen to get some water. She passed Chet and Johnny, who were arguing about something. Chet looked at the cotton leggings she always wore and asked, "What's with the long-johns? Are you cold or something?"

She snapped back with, "No, Chet, I'm just trying to make a fashion statement." She yawned sleepily. "Look, if you two don't have anything better to do, why don't you go play on the freeway? Some of us are trying to sleep." She poured herself a glass of cold water, downed it, then poured another and took it with her back to the dorm. Sleep well, Chet. I've got some plans for the next time…

-E!-