Stepping into the precinct proved to be quite nauseating for Danny that morning. The smell of coffee climbed deep inside him and made him want to puke his guts out…in fact, that was what he was going to do right now, he thought. The poor detective made it just in time to heave his breakfast into a nearby trash can.
After running to the bathroom on several occasions, Danny was sent (forced) home by a very concerned Jackie. When Danny got home, he decided to, as any normal person would, play out the rest of his day off by doing…nothing. This constituted watching TV, staring at the wall and pondering things that one doesn't normally ponder, throwing a tennis ball at the ceiling and trying to catch it before it hits you square in the face, and reciting the Spanish alphabet both forwards and backwards. That last one was a little secret of his. Then there was the debate that he always waged in his mind about trying to hula-hoop or not.
Well, it might be fun.
You're Detective Danny Reagan, not a little girl.
Do we even own a hula-hoop?
Why I am even thinking about this?
I wonder of we have any chips left…chips sound good.
Danny sighed. This was going to be a long day. He might even have to stay late…