The sound of Tom's '68 Mustang pulling into the parking lot roused Doug from sleep early the next morning. He sat up, reflecting that his back didn't feel nearly as bad as he expected it to after spending the night on the chapel's lumpy couch. He yawned loudly and stretched, then trooped upstairs to the locker room. He retrieved the spare set of street clothes he always kept in his locker and headed for the showers. After cleaning himself up, he wrapped a towel around his waist and stood in front of one of the mirrors. While combing his hair, his gaze traveled to the scale in the far corner of the room.

'Hmm,' he thought, 'might as well see how the ol' diet's payin' off.'

Meanwhile, Tom and Ioki were on their way upstairs. Tom was carrying a large paper bag.

"Thanksh for gibbon me a lift to work, Tom" said Ioki, mispronouncing some words due to the fact that his jaw was still swollen.

Tom shrugged. "Any time, Harry." He sat down at his desk and started taking things out of the bag. "Let's see...a cup of oatmeal for you, Harry."

"Mmm great," said Ioki without much enthusiasm. Oatmeal wasn't something he'd normally eat, but his mouth hurt too much to do a lot of chewing.

Tom laid a small square wrapped in waxed paper on his desk. "Coffee cake for me, muffins for Judy and Jenko when they get here, and-" A loud crash from upstairs made him stop in mid-sentence.

Ioki looked startled.

"WHAT THE HELL?" a familiar voice boomed.

"What'sh that?" asked Ioki.

Right about then, Doug slid down the fire pole. He looked equal parts furious and disheveled; it appeared he'd gotten dressed in a hurry.

"And good morning to you too, Douglas," Tom said lightly. "I thought we heard your dulcet tones."

A muscle in Doug's cheek twitched. Tom was saved from any impending violence by Judy's appearance at the top of the stairs.

"I heard this huge crash from the parking lot," she said, her expression concerned.

"That was me," Doug said in a voice that was all too calm. "I, uh, knocked over the scale in the bathroom."

"What for?" asked Ioki.

"What for?" Doug repeated angrily. "You really wanna know?"

Ioki nodded.

"I've been on a diet," Doug explained, deadly calm again. "I've been on a diet and I've only lost 2 pounds. That's right, 2. Looks like no breakfast for me again."

"But we got you a plain wheat bagel and a banana from the coffee shop," said Tom.

"Grrrrrreeeeeeaaaaaat," Doug growled like a depressed Tony the Tiger.

He sat down on the edge of his desk and started to peel the banana. The other officers exchanged looks; this certainly explained why Doug had been so irritable lately. Ioki and Tom got up to refill their coffee cups, leaving Judy and Doug alone. Maybe she'd be able to talk to Doug and calm him down.

"Penhall, when did you go on a diet?" asked Judy.

"Let's see...I found that letter about retakin' that damn physical in my mail on Friday night," Doug thought aloud. "So ballparkin' it, since I got up Saturday."

Tom couldn't resist putting his two cents in. "I hate to break it to you, Penhall, but that's only 5 days. Diets take a lot longer than that to work."

Doug rounded on Tom, who'd always been naturally slim. "How would you know?"

"Health class at my last school," Tom replied coolly.

Judy noticed now that Doug's face had paled a little; he'd been complaining of headaches for the past couple of days and looked tired. She couldn't remember seeing him eat much lately either. She put these pieces together and guessed that he hadn't been following a diet from a book or a magazine.

"Doug, listen to me," Judy said gently. She immediately had his attention, as it was fairly uncommon for her to address her coworkers by their first names. "You're never gonna pass that test if you keep starving yourself."

Doug sat there quietly, thinking over what Judy and Tom had just said. He winced as his stomach gave a huge rumble. He sidearmed the banana into his trash can.

"Hey, Jude, can you pass me that doughnut box?" he asked.

Judy took it off her desk. Doug eagerly lifted the lid, only to discover some sort of bugs had gotten into the pastries overnight. He dropped the doughnut box on top of the banana and pushed himself off the edge of the desk.

"I'm goin' out for some pancakes." he said. "Let Jenko know I might be late."

Doug headed down the stairs and out of the chapel, then started the three-block walk to the nearest diner. It was the breakfast rush, so he had to wait about 20 minutes for a seat at the counter to open up. He immediately ordered a stack of pancakes with a side of scrambled eggs and toast. Once the plate was in front of him, he smeared the pancakes with butter and drowned them in syrup. He picked up his silverware and eagerly dug in. The lightheadedness that had been nagging at him for days quickly began to dissipate once there was some food in his stomach. After polishing off every crumb, Doug paid his check and shoved a generous tip under his plate for the waitress.

By the time Doug got back to the chapel, he had to grab his backpack and head over to Southern High. He felt like his old self by the time he arrived at the school's front steps. He breezed through his first 3 classes and sat down for a lunch of corn dogs in the cafeteria, only mildly dreading practice that afternoon.