Ducks, Hotdogs and Newton OH MY!
Grissom still wasn't quite sure what he was doing here. The page which told him 'Get a team for a basketball match tomorrow' hadn't really enlightened him. AFter further investigation he discovered the LVPD league wanted more teams and the crime lab had to produce one. Warrick had been the easiest to convince. You just had to say the words 'sports' and he was putty in your hand. Nick had been almost as easy. If Warrick could do it- so could he, especially after last years defeat in the annual CSI sports day. Catherine had been next. All he had to do was promise to let her have next Thursday off so she could watch Lindsey's hair braiding performance. Sara. That was a different ball game. If it was possible she hated any kind of physical sport more than him but when he said it was an evening of testing physics theories she'd jumped at the chance Greg was the last recruit. Grissom had been very sly about this. He blushed slightly as he remembered his exact words. 'Greg, you like to do the kind of things CSI's have to do, don't you?' asked Grissom. 'Like go on the field, interview suspects- that kind of thing- YEAH' 'Its time for your training- meet us tomorrow at the basketball centre' Greg would certainly be surprised.
'Grissom, playing mascot to a basketball team really isn't my idea of training' said Greg. After seeing Grissom's raised eyebrow he continued 'but maybe it is'. Thats when his day got progressivly worse. Grissom held up a lycra duck costume. A fluffy yellow lycra duck costume. 'NO- you can't expect me to wear this' said Greg, 'I've gotta see you guys everyday for the rest of my life!' 'No costume and you won't be seeing us for tomorrow-let alone the rest of your life' Greg miserably got into the way to tight fluffy costume. Some would say he looked quite sweet in it but anyone else would say he looked like a complete and utter pillock.
Catherine sniffed the air as she walked in. She could smell the hot dogs with there ketchup and mustard. Her mouth started to water. She had never told anyone how she felt about hotdogs with ketchup and mustard. It had all started nines years ago when she was pregnant with Lindsey. Other women craved pistatio icecream or pickles but she craved hotdogs. The only thing was the craving had not yet gone away- eight years after she gave birth. She tried to concentrate on the group in front of her discussing tactics.
Grissom looked at his watch. The game was due to start in less than a minute and Warrick was not here yet. Without Warrick the team did not know what to- could they bounce the ball, could they throw it? could they hide it? This was going to be a long game.
The whistle blew. Grissom yelled at Greg that he was been promoted- he was now their centre/mascot/the idiot in the duck costume. Warrick was sat in the car. How was he meant to know it would take 25 minutes to get a burger? Frankly he did not care if it came with pickles, without pickles, with ketchup, without ketchup, large burger and small fries, a small burger and large fries, a diet coke, a regular coke, the buy one get one free deal or the half price meal deal. It was all way too confusing but now he was stuck in the drive thru- he couldn't reverse as there were five cars behind him and he couldn't go forward as there were 7 cars waiting for there orders and the drive thru owners had cleverly put metal fences at the side to prevent frustrated customers leaving. He turned the radio on not quite believing what he was hearing about the game he was meant to be staring in. 'The duck has the ball and is waddling down the court.' He quickly turned it off wondering whether the grease in the air had gotten to him.
Catherine just couldn't help it the smell was so irresistable. She wanted those hotdogs. She wanted them so badly she just couldn't move- she was glued to the spot- quite literally, since as a hilarious joke Greg had put superglue on her shoes. She quickly undid her laces and ran towards the hot dog vendor. She pushed starving children, famished grandparents and fat men stuffing their faces with donuts out of the way. She paused to gain her breath, 'Can I have a hotdog with extra ketchup and extra mustard?' The rather shocked Hot Dog vendor handed over the hotdog quite worried at the rate this lady was stuffing the hotdog down her throat. With her mouthful she asked 'Cann oi hab anober hop dod pease-abtually mabe dat do'. He passed the hotdogs to her only for her to whip them out of his had at such a speed that he had whiplash in his fingers. 'Hey Lady' said the frightened Hot Dog guy, 'You can't just eat all my hot dogs'
Sara looked at the game going on in front of her. She looked at the players and the ball with great interest. According to Newton if the ball player was 40 degrees to the right, the ball was being thrown the opposite way at half the speed and she was standing 2 feet to the left, she'd be in the perfect position to catch the ball and rebound it off the board into the net and then finally hit the referee who was really annoying her with the way he kept telling her to move, on the head. She thought however, according to the measurements I have here and the help of Pythagoras the ball should land exactly-she paused to get out her handy pocket calculator- . That was as far as she got. The ball came flying across and hit her smack bang in the head at 34 mph causing her to fly across the room into the seating. She sat up and thumped the air in delight- not quite the reaction the audience were expecting, since her prediction had been correct. You may not be able to rely on your family and friends but Pythagoras and Newton would never fail you.
Grissom had managed to stay out of the game so far by lounging at the sidelines and repeatedly tieing his shoe lace (so much so that a concerened elderly lady had given him the address of the shoe tieing school she had sent her 4 year old granson to several months ago). He glanced at the floor again pretending that his shoe lace had come undone. He blinked again. This game was becoming even more exciting- there was a yellow spotted, green striped, purple bodies, indigo organed bug on the floor. He moved for the first time the whole game, sprinting off at a great speed towards the action causing the whole audience hold their breathe. They all followed him wondering why he was running past the ball, they just shrugged pressumming he was just getting into position. They even kept watching when he knelt onto the floor- maybe he was about to make a leap. They could not have been more surprised when he got out a specimen jar and ushered a tiny bug into it and then walked off happily talking to a bug.
Gingerly, Warrick put the radio on again 'And now we have what can only be described as a headless chicken running around following the ball, letting out random squeaks and falling over every 10 seconds. I urge you people if you ever see this brown haired young man again RUN fast he's mentally unstable'
'Excuse me MR Hot Dog Man' said one of the members of the long que who had been stood there for about 15 minutes whilst Catherine stuffed her face with hotdog after hotdog, 'Can you get her to leave or something' The hot dog guy looked at her in disbelief 'What do you mean tell her to go, she's putting my kids through college- go get them girl' he encouraged Catherine who by now had gone into the vendor and started stuffing her face as fast as she could. She was in heaven- this was her wildest fantasy- hotdogs, hotdogs and more hotdogs.
The ball came flying at Grissom knocking the precious specimen out of his arms. The ball landed a few feet away from the fallen bug and attracted a herd of basketball mad men who rushed over desperate to get the ball. 'Noone kills my bug!' he screamed before running in front of the bug to grab the ball. One basket ball player came so close to the bug that Grissom put all his strength into throwing the basket ball straight into his stomache. The man went flying, Sara sat there in awe, amazed the man she loved so much knew about Newtons law of close contact flying objects, the audience were scared and Grissom grabbed his precious bug who did not realise all the trouble his owner had gone to for him.
The whistle blew. That was the end of the third quarter. Everyones attention was now on Catherine. Noone had ever seen a slim lady, let alone a fat man stuff away so many hotdogs. There was ketchup in her hair, mustard on her clothes and a great big grin across Catherine's face as she ate her 123rd hot dog. Greg started collecting bets on how many she could eat. She had already eaten more than 100 which meant he was already $659 richer. If she made it to the 200th burger he could retire. 'Bets people, Bets people' yelled the duck at the top of his voice while moving in what can only be described as the funky chicken move.
The last quarter started but the only member of the CSI team on the pitch was Nick since Sara was sat concussed at the side, Grissom was identifying his bug, Catherine was stuffing her face with stolen hotdogs, Greg was taking bets and Warrick was waiting for a double Mac and fries.
Warrick stared at the evil radio which was starting to scare him. He tried it one last time. 'And man look at her go' he gave a sight of relief, the game was on, 'this lady has had 156 hot dogs, not make that 157 hotdogs look at her go! This is more entertaining than the time the two captins mud wrestled naked on the floor!Whats she doing now? She's on the prowl she's finished the hot dogs in the van and she's...she's taking them off people in the audience! The old lady lost her hot dog, the little girl in the pink dress, the fat man lost all 9 of his- there is just no stopping this lady!' At this point Warrick got out the car and started running towards the game- some hot dog freak and farm animals were ruining the basketball game.
News traveled fast in Vegas. By now numerous press vans were queing to get tickets to the match. 'This is channel 5 reporting..' 'And now over to our sports correspondant, Geoff Daniels..' 'And we are now at the Las Vegas Basketball Centre where during a Police Department game CSI Catherine Willows..' '..the lady is now on her 189th hot dog after eating for 45minutes.. 'Mrs Willows- do you have anything to say to the people out there about what you are doing' Catherine mumbled a reply which was either 'Get lost you blonde bimbo' or 'Have you got any more hotdogs?'. Everyone was involved in Catherines eating contest, and in the background a chorus of 'EAT EAT EAT' had started to form. Noone noticed that Warrick was playing and with great skill had managed to pull the CSI team from losing badly by 34 points to being joint on 36points. Seconds before the final whistle blew he scored and people started to cheer. He turned around to wave to his adoring fans only to notice they weren't even looking at him- their eyes were on Catherine. She had managed to eat every single hot dog in the stadium- 199 hot dogs! People were dancing, cheering and hugging each at her victory- noone cared about the game. 'I've made $1500' yelled the floresent yellow duck. 'Erm lady.. you owe me $1521 for the hotdogs' said the uncomfortable Hot Dog guy. 'But I've only got $26 on me' said a much fatter Catherine before smiling at Greg. 'She handed the money over to the rejoicing hot dog guy who was on the phone with his wife who thought he was somewhere between demented and crazy since noone would eat almost 200 hot dogs. 'Great' said Greg, 'I had to wear a Duck costume all for $5' 'Minus the $5 rental charge' Sara reminded him, as they all went home determined never to mention the evening again.
Grissom still wasn't quite sure what he was doing here. The page which told him 'Get a team for a basketball match tomorrow' hadn't really enlightened him. AFter further investigation he discovered the LVPD league wanted more teams and the crime lab had to produce one. Warrick had been the easiest to convince. You just had to say the words 'sports' and he was putty in your hand. Nick had been almost as easy. If Warrick could do it- so could he, especially after last years defeat in the annual CSI sports day. Catherine had been next. All he had to do was promise to let her have next Thursday off so she could watch Lindsey's hair braiding performance. Sara. That was a different ball game. If it was possible she hated any kind of physical sport more than him but when he said it was an evening of testing physics theories she'd jumped at the chance Greg was the last recruit. Grissom had been very sly about this. He blushed slightly as he remembered his exact words. 'Greg, you like to do the kind of things CSI's have to do, don't you?' asked Grissom. 'Like go on the field, interview suspects- that kind of thing- YEAH' 'Its time for your training- meet us tomorrow at the basketball centre' Greg would certainly be surprised.
'Grissom, playing mascot to a basketball team really isn't my idea of training' said Greg. After seeing Grissom's raised eyebrow he continued 'but maybe it is'. Thats when his day got progressivly worse. Grissom held up a lycra duck costume. A fluffy yellow lycra duck costume. 'NO- you can't expect me to wear this' said Greg, 'I've gotta see you guys everyday for the rest of my life!' 'No costume and you won't be seeing us for tomorrow-let alone the rest of your life' Greg miserably got into the way to tight fluffy costume. Some would say he looked quite sweet in it but anyone else would say he looked like a complete and utter pillock.
Catherine sniffed the air as she walked in. She could smell the hot dogs with there ketchup and mustard. Her mouth started to water. She had never told anyone how she felt about hotdogs with ketchup and mustard. It had all started nines years ago when she was pregnant with Lindsey. Other women craved pistatio icecream or pickles but she craved hotdogs. The only thing was the craving had not yet gone away- eight years after she gave birth. She tried to concentrate on the group in front of her discussing tactics.
Grissom looked at his watch. The game was due to start in less than a minute and Warrick was not here yet. Without Warrick the team did not know what to- could they bounce the ball, could they throw it? could they hide it? This was going to be a long game.
The whistle blew. Grissom yelled at Greg that he was been promoted- he was now their centre/mascot/the idiot in the duck costume. Warrick was sat in the car. How was he meant to know it would take 25 minutes to get a burger? Frankly he did not care if it came with pickles, without pickles, with ketchup, without ketchup, large burger and small fries, a small burger and large fries, a diet coke, a regular coke, the buy one get one free deal or the half price meal deal. It was all way too confusing but now he was stuck in the drive thru- he couldn't reverse as there were five cars behind him and he couldn't go forward as there were 7 cars waiting for there orders and the drive thru owners had cleverly put metal fences at the side to prevent frustrated customers leaving. He turned the radio on not quite believing what he was hearing about the game he was meant to be staring in. 'The duck has the ball and is waddling down the court.' He quickly turned it off wondering whether the grease in the air had gotten to him.
Catherine just couldn't help it the smell was so irresistable. She wanted those hotdogs. She wanted them so badly she just couldn't move- she was glued to the spot- quite literally, since as a hilarious joke Greg had put superglue on her shoes. She quickly undid her laces and ran towards the hot dog vendor. She pushed starving children, famished grandparents and fat men stuffing their faces with donuts out of the way. She paused to gain her breath, 'Can I have a hotdog with extra ketchup and extra mustard?' The rather shocked Hot Dog vendor handed over the hotdog quite worried at the rate this lady was stuffing the hotdog down her throat. With her mouthful she asked 'Cann oi hab anober hop dod pease-abtually mabe dat do'. He passed the hotdogs to her only for her to whip them out of his had at such a speed that he had whiplash in his fingers. 'Hey Lady' said the frightened Hot Dog guy, 'You can't just eat all my hot dogs'
Sara looked at the game going on in front of her. She looked at the players and the ball with great interest. According to Newton if the ball player was 40 degrees to the right, the ball was being thrown the opposite way at half the speed and she was standing 2 feet to the left, she'd be in the perfect position to catch the ball and rebound it off the board into the net and then finally hit the referee who was really annoying her with the way he kept telling her to move, on the head. She thought however, according to the measurements I have here and the help of Pythagoras the ball should land exactly-she paused to get out her handy pocket calculator- . That was as far as she got. The ball came flying across and hit her smack bang in the head at 34 mph causing her to fly across the room into the seating. She sat up and thumped the air in delight- not quite the reaction the audience were expecting, since her prediction had been correct. You may not be able to rely on your family and friends but Pythagoras and Newton would never fail you.
Grissom had managed to stay out of the game so far by lounging at the sidelines and repeatedly tieing his shoe lace (so much so that a concerened elderly lady had given him the address of the shoe tieing school she had sent her 4 year old granson to several months ago). He glanced at the floor again pretending that his shoe lace had come undone. He blinked again. This game was becoming even more exciting- there was a yellow spotted, green striped, purple bodies, indigo organed bug on the floor. He moved for the first time the whole game, sprinting off at a great speed towards the action causing the whole audience hold their breathe. They all followed him wondering why he was running past the ball, they just shrugged pressumming he was just getting into position. They even kept watching when he knelt onto the floor- maybe he was about to make a leap. They could not have been more surprised when he got out a specimen jar and ushered a tiny bug into it and then walked off happily talking to a bug.
Gingerly, Warrick put the radio on again 'And now we have what can only be described as a headless chicken running around following the ball, letting out random squeaks and falling over every 10 seconds. I urge you people if you ever see this brown haired young man again RUN fast he's mentally unstable'
'Excuse me MR Hot Dog Man' said one of the members of the long que who had been stood there for about 15 minutes whilst Catherine stuffed her face with hotdog after hotdog, 'Can you get her to leave or something' The hot dog guy looked at her in disbelief 'What do you mean tell her to go, she's putting my kids through college- go get them girl' he encouraged Catherine who by now had gone into the vendor and started stuffing her face as fast as she could. She was in heaven- this was her wildest fantasy- hotdogs, hotdogs and more hotdogs.
The ball came flying at Grissom knocking the precious specimen out of his arms. The ball landed a few feet away from the fallen bug and attracted a herd of basketball mad men who rushed over desperate to get the ball. 'Noone kills my bug!' he screamed before running in front of the bug to grab the ball. One basket ball player came so close to the bug that Grissom put all his strength into throwing the basket ball straight into his stomache. The man went flying, Sara sat there in awe, amazed the man she loved so much knew about Newtons law of close contact flying objects, the audience were scared and Grissom grabbed his precious bug who did not realise all the trouble his owner had gone to for him.
The whistle blew. That was the end of the third quarter. Everyones attention was now on Catherine. Noone had ever seen a slim lady, let alone a fat man stuff away so many hotdogs. There was ketchup in her hair, mustard on her clothes and a great big grin across Catherine's face as she ate her 123rd hot dog. Greg started collecting bets on how many she could eat. She had already eaten more than 100 which meant he was already $659 richer. If she made it to the 200th burger he could retire. 'Bets people, Bets people' yelled the duck at the top of his voice while moving in what can only be described as the funky chicken move.
The last quarter started but the only member of the CSI team on the pitch was Nick since Sara was sat concussed at the side, Grissom was identifying his bug, Catherine was stuffing her face with stolen hotdogs, Greg was taking bets and Warrick was waiting for a double Mac and fries.
Warrick stared at the evil radio which was starting to scare him. He tried it one last time. 'And man look at her go' he gave a sight of relief, the game was on, 'this lady has had 156 hot dogs, not make that 157 hotdogs look at her go! This is more entertaining than the time the two captins mud wrestled naked on the floor!Whats she doing now? She's on the prowl she's finished the hot dogs in the van and she's...she's taking them off people in the audience! The old lady lost her hot dog, the little girl in the pink dress, the fat man lost all 9 of his- there is just no stopping this lady!' At this point Warrick got out the car and started running towards the game- some hot dog freak and farm animals were ruining the basketball game.
News traveled fast in Vegas. By now numerous press vans were queing to get tickets to the match. 'This is channel 5 reporting..' 'And now over to our sports correspondant, Geoff Daniels..' 'And we are now at the Las Vegas Basketball Centre where during a Police Department game CSI Catherine Willows..' '..the lady is now on her 189th hot dog after eating for 45minutes.. 'Mrs Willows- do you have anything to say to the people out there about what you are doing' Catherine mumbled a reply which was either 'Get lost you blonde bimbo' or 'Have you got any more hotdogs?'. Everyone was involved in Catherines eating contest, and in the background a chorus of 'EAT EAT EAT' had started to form. Noone noticed that Warrick was playing and with great skill had managed to pull the CSI team from losing badly by 34 points to being joint on 36points. Seconds before the final whistle blew he scored and people started to cheer. He turned around to wave to his adoring fans only to notice they weren't even looking at him- their eyes were on Catherine. She had managed to eat every single hot dog in the stadium- 199 hot dogs! People were dancing, cheering and hugging each at her victory- noone cared about the game. 'I've made $1500' yelled the floresent yellow duck. 'Erm lady.. you owe me $1521 for the hotdogs' said the uncomfortable Hot Dog guy. 'But I've only got $26 on me' said a much fatter Catherine before smiling at Greg. 'She handed the money over to the rejoicing hot dog guy who was on the phone with his wife who thought he was somewhere between demented and crazy since noone would eat almost 200 hot dogs. 'Great' said Greg, 'I had to wear a Duck costume all for $5' 'Minus the $5 rental charge' Sara reminded him, as they all went home determined never to mention the evening again.