I do not own Fillmore.
Cocoa Mishap
Danny O'Farrell stumbled through the door marked Safety Patrol and Glee Club Annex just as the final bell rang. Panting, he collapsed into his desk chair with a groan.
"Cutting it a bit close today, aren't you O'Farrell?" Fillmore teased, taking a sip out of his purple coffee mug.
"Hey, I just had to run down three blocks and then through five sets of hallways," wheezed Danny, smacking at his chest in an attempt to calm his rapidly-beating heart. "Why does X Middle School have to be so big?"
Fillmore shook his head. "There's such a thing as an alarm clock."
"I slept through mine."
Ingrid glanced up from her computer in amusement. "That defeats the purpose of having an alarm clock."
Danny gave a helpless shrug. "I'm trying to find a new system. If I'm late again Vallejo is going to kill me."
"He's not going to kill you," said Ingrid. "He'd just put you on desk duty for the next month or two."
"I'm a photographer," said Danny, horrified. "Not a desk jockey!"
"Don't let Vallejo hear you say that," called Anza from his desk. "That's all he does, and I doubt he'd appreciate the term."
"Besides, you know how much of a stickler he is for punctuality," added Fillmore. "Just because we don't have to attend class all the time doesn't mean we can be late."
"Right. So note to self. Find a way that'll get me up in time for school," muttered Danny. Spotting the cocoa machine in the back corner, he smiled and stood up. "Like a sugar rush. That ought to do something for me in the mornings."
As he walked past Ingrid, she spotted the state of his wardrobe and grinned. "You do know that your shirt is inside out, right?"
"I was in a rush," he grumbled as he studied the machine before him. "I'll fix it later…maybe."
The state-of-the-art cocoa machine was the latest addition to the office, purchased by Vallejo to fuel his already-strong cocoa addiction.
Geez, this looks complicated. What do all these buttons do? And why does it have switches? Which one do I have to push to make the drink? Green? Red? What, what does the black lever do?
"You shouldn't have to ask that many questions when all you want to do is make a cup of cocoa," Danny said to himself. In a louder voice he asked, "Does anybody know how to work this thing?"
"I think there's an instruction manual somewhere," said Ingrid.
"Try the blue button," suggested Anza.
"Nah, I don't think it's the blue button," spoke up Fillmore.
"Right. Thanks for the help." Danny scratched his head. It was a cocoa machine, how hard could it be?
In the movies, if the guy needs to press a button, he always picks the green one. And if works for him, why can't it work for me?
Pushing it, he jumped back when it suddenly started to shake.
"Hey Danny! You might wanna put the cocoa and the milk in before you turn it on!" Anza shouted.
"I thought I was forgetting something," exclaimed Danny. He quickly turned the machine back off. Picking up the canister of cocoa that rested on top of the machine, he studied the directions on the back, wondering how much he should put in. But there was nothing that stated an exact measurement-apparently, it depended on the setting you selected.
He didn't have a clue what setting the cocoa machine was currently at. Yanking the lid off the top, he dumped about half of the powder in before deciding that it looked about right.
Now for the milk.
Taking a carton from the mini-fridge below the table the machine rested on, he dunked the rest of the dairy product in with the cocoa powder. "By the way, we're out of milk!"
He pushed the same button as before and watched it start shaking again. Well, that wasn't so bad. But what were all the other buttons for?
Unable to dispel his curiosity, he pushed the blue button. He could distinctly hear a whirring noise, but he wasn't sure what was causing it.
How about the black lever? What does that do?
Tugging on it, he jumped back when clumps of milky cocoa started gushing out of the nozzle attached to the front of the machine.
"I don't think that's done quite yet," Tehama called. His fellow officers were enjoying themselves as they watched the flustered photographer struggle to make himself a cup of cocoa.
"Are you going to help?" snapped Danny, attempting to catch the spewing liquid with his hands.
"What do you think?" Ingrid asked her partner.
Fillmore watched Danny with a grin. "Nah. He needs to learn how work things out for himself."
"Thank you," groaned Danny. "You're such good friends."
The brown gunk finally stopped spurting out and he gave a sigh of relief. But now he had a new problem-milk was overflowing from the top of the machine and was spilling onto the floor.
"Aw, man! I must have put too much in!"
"What was your first guess?" asked Anza.
Danny ignored the comments hollered out to him, some advice and some remarks that weren't very helpful. He tried holding the lid down and strained to turn the machine off. His fingers hovered the multitude of buttons, suddenly uncertain of which one he needed to push.
Come on, I did it before! I just have to remember…well, red means 'off'. So that sounds about right.
Slapping it down with his palm, the cocoa machine gave a loud, screeching groan before the shaking finally stopped. There was a hiss and smoke started wafting from the electrical outlet. Stunned, he hastily dove down and unplugged it.
Oh no. I broke Vallejo's cocoa machine!
Fillmore finally broke the silence with, "Well, it was nice knowing you man."
All heads in the office swung around as Vallejo himself came storming out of his office. "What's going on here, people? You sound like a bunch of-"He froze, and Danny paled, taking slow steps back. Cocoa and milk dripped from his hair, and the smoke lessened as Anza took a fire extinguisher to it.
Vallejo's eye twitched as he stared at his broken, precious cocoa machine.
Danny knew that he needed to make one of the most important decisions in his life; stay or bolt. Taking one look at the fury on Vallejo's face, he raced from the office with a yelp of fear. Before the door slammed shut behind him, he could hear Vallejo's outraged shout.
"O'Farrell!"