I do not own Fillmore.
Vallejo once remarked that Danny wasn't qualified to handle a stapler, let alone bodyguard duty (or something along those lines). I just wondered what event lead to Danny not qualified to handle a stapler.
The Stapler Incident
Vallejo leaned back in his chair, pen in hand. He stared at the stack of papers on his desk, piled high and swaying slightly. How he hated paperwork.
"I have better things to do than file and staple until my hands want to fall off," he grumbled, wearily reaching for the first paper. "But that's what I get for wanting to be Junior Commissioner."
Wait a minute.
He was Junior Commissioner. There were perks to the job-such as being able to pass down the small jobs he didn't want to do to his officers.
A crash sounded from the main office, followed by a familiar yelp of panic. He sighed heavily and glanced towards his window, where the blinds were firmly shut, preventing him from seeing what mess his photographer had gotten into.
Well, at least I know whose going to be doing the paperwork, he thought.
Vallejo stepped out of his office and into the HQ with the stack of papers in his hands. Danny O'Farrell lay on the floor, tangled in his camera film strips.
"Please tell me nothing important was on those."
"Er, not really," answered Danny sheepishly.
Shaking his head, Vallejo dropped the papers on Danny's desk and helped the redhead to his feet. "You're doing the paperwork."
"Why me?" he asked, shrugging out of the camera strips and shoving them into the trashcan. "Why not Fillmore?"
"Don't try to pass this on me," said Fillmore from his desk.
Vallejo shook his head. "It's to keep you busy and out of trouble. I want this paperwork done by the end of the day, got it?"
"But that only gives me an hour!" Danny protested.
"Then I suggest you get moving. Staple the C papers together for me, will you? Oh, and leave the D papers on Third's desk."
Danny watched in dismay as his boss stalked back into his office. Turning to Tehama, he held the stack high. "What am I supposed to do with the A and B papers?"
Tehama gestured towards the metal cabinets lining the back wall. "File them, of course."
Slumping in his seat, he set the stack down and picked up a pen. He began checking off the boxes that had an asterisk beside them and indicated where Vallejo needed to sign. The A and B papers were previous reports that no longer needed to be in the binders and could be moved to the file cabinets.
When all the checking was done, he stacked the papers in order by letter and rubbed his sore wrist. Glancing at the clock, he paled when he noticed he only had twenty minutes left to complete his assignment. Picking up the A and B stacks, he rushed over to the filing cabinets. He glanced at the drawers, but found them to be bare.
He scowled. What kind of person doesn't put labels on file cabinets?
"Fillmore?"
Fillmore glanced up from his computer. "What is it, O'Farrell?"
"Where do the A's and B's go?"
"Before the C's and D's."
Danny sighed in exasperation. "I know that! But which cabinet do they go in?"
Fillmore pointed to the last one in the row. Danny yanked the drawer open and crammed the papers in. Jogging back to his desk, he yelped as he tripped over his laces and knocked the D's to the floor.
"Nuts," he hissed, hastily gathering them up and throwing them onto Ingrid's desk.
Fillmore stared at the messy pile in amusement. "She's not going to be happy about that, man."
"I don't have time to make them neat!" defended Danny, frantically tying his laces together in a tight knot. "I'll help her organize them again later."
He looked at the clock to see that he had ten minutes left. Grabbing the C papers, he glanced around and nearly shouted, "Tehama! Where-?"
He shot a hand out and caught the stapler, thrown by the funky-haired girl. Tehama rolled her eyes and went back to finishing up her report. Danny settled back at his desk and frowned in concentration as he stapled two papers together at a time.
"Ouch!" he yelped, accidentally stapling his finger. Removing the metal piece, he sucked on the injury for a second before shoving the finished papers aside. He reached for the last two, shooting his eyes up to the clock. He had five minutes left. He quickly stapled the last sheets and nearly passed out when he discovered the thing was jammed.
"Ah man!" Prying it open, he used a pencil to get the bent staple out of the front. The pencil broke in half, and Danny began slapping the top frantically. "Come on!"
He held the stapler above his head and slapped it again with all his might. A victory yell escaped him as the bent staple shot out from the tip.
A cry of fear escaped him as he and every other officer in the HQ dove under their desks as the staple hit the light fixture overhead and smashed through the glass. The shattered pieces rained down and the lights sparked.
"Danny!" Anza snapped, drawing his hand back from a shower of sparks as they rained down.
"Sorry! It wouldn't come out!" Danny wailed. He winced and whimpered when a door slammed open.
"What the heck is going on? Who broke the lights?" Vallejo shouted, keeping inside the doorway and watching in disbelief as sparks and glass fell down. He glared at his officers taking refuge under their desks.
"It wasn't me!" Fillmore protested.
Danny waved the stapler out from under his desk. "My bad! Sorry! It wouldn't work, and you said I had only an hour to finish it, and-"
He let out a yelp as the lights went out completely, rendering the HQ pitch black. Hesitantly climbing out from under their desks, the officers grumbled as they groped about, looking for the door. Danny tried to sneak out as quietly as he could, but did not make it. His heart pounded when a firm grip fell upon his shoulder.
"O'Farrell?"
"Yes, sir?"
"You are no longer allowed to touch the stapler. And you're on desk duty until the new lights come in. Are we clear?"
Danny groaned. "Yeah, crystal clear."