Title: Mr. Monk and the Garbage Pull
Author: Amara (TofuDog)
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Hey, I don't own this stuff. If I did, then I would be rich, and I would not sit at my computer writing fanfic.
Summary: It is holy hell for Monk when he has to do a garbage pull. Note: This would never happen, but it is a cute story nonetheless. Oh, and a garbage pull is when police officers have to go through somebody's trash to get evidence. And, I don't think that police officers have to have a warrant to go through trash because trash is trash. It is community property. Oh yeah, this story is mildly Monk/Sharona 'shipper friendly even though I do not support it. Rating: PG for mild language
Monk took one look at Stottlemeyer and walked away. Stottlemeyer dashed after Monk. "Please, just do it. I have to go to a viewing of Karen's new 'docudrama,' and Disher is out sick. Please. Sharona can help you." Stottlemeyer said.
"Why can't anybody else do it?" Monk asked. This was one of his worst nightmares. He tugged on his sleeve, adjusting the button.
"You are the only one who can be trusted with the evidence that could be found in the trash. If we find what he are looking for, it could put Wes Jenkins away for twenty plus." Stottlemeyer said. He sighed. He looked at his watch. He put his hand up to his forehead in a sign of exasperation. "Oh, damn. I was supposed to meet Karen ten minutes ago. I gotta go. I trust you to do it. Get gloves if it helps you. Just go." He said. He put his hands up in frustration and hurried away to meet Karen.
***
Monk and Sharona stared at the dumpster in front of them. Monk was fully outfitted in a doctor's mask and two pairs of rubber gloves on each hand. "Maybe you should put another pair of gloves on my hands. You know, you can never be sure that the first two pairs of gloves will protect you from the lurking danger." Sharona said as she stared at the comical sight.
"Do you really mean it? I have some more gloves in my pocket." Monk said. He was worried about the task ahead of them.
"You are pathetic. No, I don't mean it." Sharona said.
"Do you want some gloves, since you are going in there?" Monk asked. He wiggled some gloves in front of Sharona's face.
Sharona pushed the gloves away from her face; she yelled, "What? I'm not getting in there. You're the one who is dressed for an epidemic."
After ten minutes of arguing, Sharona put down her purse and stacked some crates up next to the green 'Little Stinker' dumpster. She climbed on top of the crates and flopped over the edge of the nasty garbage receptacle. She had no idea of what she was looking for. She yelled to Monk, "What is that is it that you want?"
"Uh.an envelope addressed to Ryan Patrick from Wes Jenkins. It should be a large manila envelope." Monk yelled back. He took short shallow breaths to keep from inhaling the least amount of garbage-infected air as possible.
"Monk, you sound like your hyperventilating. Is this it?" Sharona yelled from inside the dumpster.
"I can't.I can't see!"
"Then come closer. I can't get up to show you."
"Uh." Monk thought hard. How many manila envelops addressed to Mr. Jenkins could be in there. He kind of wobbled side to side. Then, he stepped forward one step. He still couldn't see, so he stepped ahead another stride. Still not seeing, he took another step. After repeating this process and continual urges from Sharona, he found himself standing up on the crates, peering over the side. Sharona was inside bent over like a sick puppy. "What's wrong?" Monk said. The stench wafted up to his nostrils. He gagged. A strange choking sound came from Sharona. Monk bent over, worried that the germs had infected Sharona. Suddenly, Sharona reached up and grabbed Monk's collar and pulled him into the nasty dumpster. She erupted into laughter.
"That's for all the pain you've caused me." She laughed. Monk coughed violently. Sharona waved an envelope in front of Monk's eyes.
Monk slowly climbed out of the dumpster. He plucked a condom off his suit. Sharona continued to laugh. She lifted her foot out of the dumpster and it caught the side. She flipped over the side and landed on the ground. Monk stood looking at Sharona. Sharona grunted. She got up on her feet and took a step. She tripped on the broken heel of her high heels. She landed in Monk's arms. Monk started to push Sharona away, but he held her tighter. Sharona looked up in Monk's eyes. She slowly pulled away from him. Sharona laughed. "Good experience? Huh? Finally, our first hug. You are making progress, Adrian." She said. She went to car. "You coming?" She got in the car. Monk looked after her. He sighed.
"Making progress? Good.if that's what you call progress." Monk said to himself. "Anything to get back on the police force." He walked to the car.
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Hey, I don't own this stuff. If I did, then I would be rich, and I would not sit at my computer writing fanfic.
Summary: It is holy hell for Monk when he has to do a garbage pull. Note: This would never happen, but it is a cute story nonetheless. Oh, and a garbage pull is when police officers have to go through somebody's trash to get evidence. And, I don't think that police officers have to have a warrant to go through trash because trash is trash. It is community property. Oh yeah, this story is mildly Monk/Sharona 'shipper friendly even though I do not support it. Rating: PG for mild language
Monk took one look at Stottlemeyer and walked away. Stottlemeyer dashed after Monk. "Please, just do it. I have to go to a viewing of Karen's new 'docudrama,' and Disher is out sick. Please. Sharona can help you." Stottlemeyer said.
"Why can't anybody else do it?" Monk asked. This was one of his worst nightmares. He tugged on his sleeve, adjusting the button.
"You are the only one who can be trusted with the evidence that could be found in the trash. If we find what he are looking for, it could put Wes Jenkins away for twenty plus." Stottlemeyer said. He sighed. He looked at his watch. He put his hand up to his forehead in a sign of exasperation. "Oh, damn. I was supposed to meet Karen ten minutes ago. I gotta go. I trust you to do it. Get gloves if it helps you. Just go." He said. He put his hands up in frustration and hurried away to meet Karen.
***
Monk and Sharona stared at the dumpster in front of them. Monk was fully outfitted in a doctor's mask and two pairs of rubber gloves on each hand. "Maybe you should put another pair of gloves on my hands. You know, you can never be sure that the first two pairs of gloves will protect you from the lurking danger." Sharona said as she stared at the comical sight.
"Do you really mean it? I have some more gloves in my pocket." Monk said. He was worried about the task ahead of them.
"You are pathetic. No, I don't mean it." Sharona said.
"Do you want some gloves, since you are going in there?" Monk asked. He wiggled some gloves in front of Sharona's face.
Sharona pushed the gloves away from her face; she yelled, "What? I'm not getting in there. You're the one who is dressed for an epidemic."
After ten minutes of arguing, Sharona put down her purse and stacked some crates up next to the green 'Little Stinker' dumpster. She climbed on top of the crates and flopped over the edge of the nasty garbage receptacle. She had no idea of what she was looking for. She yelled to Monk, "What is that is it that you want?"
"Uh.an envelope addressed to Ryan Patrick from Wes Jenkins. It should be a large manila envelope." Monk yelled back. He took short shallow breaths to keep from inhaling the least amount of garbage-infected air as possible.
"Monk, you sound like your hyperventilating. Is this it?" Sharona yelled from inside the dumpster.
"I can't.I can't see!"
"Then come closer. I can't get up to show you."
"Uh." Monk thought hard. How many manila envelops addressed to Mr. Jenkins could be in there. He kind of wobbled side to side. Then, he stepped forward one step. He still couldn't see, so he stepped ahead another stride. Still not seeing, he took another step. After repeating this process and continual urges from Sharona, he found himself standing up on the crates, peering over the side. Sharona was inside bent over like a sick puppy. "What's wrong?" Monk said. The stench wafted up to his nostrils. He gagged. A strange choking sound came from Sharona. Monk bent over, worried that the germs had infected Sharona. Suddenly, Sharona reached up and grabbed Monk's collar and pulled him into the nasty dumpster. She erupted into laughter.
"That's for all the pain you've caused me." She laughed. Monk coughed violently. Sharona waved an envelope in front of Monk's eyes.
Monk slowly climbed out of the dumpster. He plucked a condom off his suit. Sharona continued to laugh. She lifted her foot out of the dumpster and it caught the side. She flipped over the side and landed on the ground. Monk stood looking at Sharona. Sharona grunted. She got up on her feet and took a step. She tripped on the broken heel of her high heels. She landed in Monk's arms. Monk started to push Sharona away, but he held her tighter. Sharona looked up in Monk's eyes. She slowly pulled away from him. Sharona laughed. "Good experience? Huh? Finally, our first hug. You are making progress, Adrian." She said. She went to car. "You coming?" She got in the car. Monk looked after her. He sighed.
"Making progress? Good.if that's what you call progress." Monk said to himself. "Anything to get back on the police force." He walked to the car.