A/N: Chapter 7 of this little anthology is once again lighthearted. Granted, it won't be warm and fluffy and full of adorable Ricochet, but it's got some humor.
Disclaimer: I don't own these people, people.
Story 7: Breakfast Bedlam
Upon hearing a loud, elephant-like sneeze come from Ricochet's room, Droop-a-Long mused, "Yep, he's not goin' anywhere for a week." He then continued to mix the ingredients he'd gathered in a large mixing bowl, humming tunelessly.
Yesterday, Ricochet had been sneezing a lot and developing a nasty cough, as well as tiring out a lot faster than he normally did. When Droop-a-Long had asked if he was alright, Ricochet had told him not to worry about it and that he'd be better in the morning. Although Droop-a-Long was worried about his friend, he knew that there were times where he should let the rabbit have his way.
Now he felt a little guilty that he had listened. His fever had confirmed his worst fears: the sheriff had caught a cold, possibly from that last outlaw they'd captured. He wouldn't be going anywhere for a week, possibly two. And knowing Ricochet, he would not like being fussed over while he was sick.
This week wasn't going to be easy, that was certain.
He added the chopped carrots into the brown mixture, and upon taking another look at the recipe, he added in a pinch of salt into the mixture. "I reckon Mr. Ricochet's gonna like this here breakfast cake," he said. He turned on the stove, and was about to search for a pan to pour the cake in when he heard Ricochet croak from upstairs.
"Droop-a-Long? Are ya down there?" he shouted.
"I'll be right up, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long yelled back. He then looked at the stove and then saw the frying pan hanging on the wall. "It'll cook much faster if I cook it in a fryin' pan." He turned on the eye, put in a little dab of oil, and poured in most of the cake mixture.
"Droop-a-Long!" Ricochet shouted.
"I'm-a comin'!" Droop-a-Long set the bowl on the table and wiped his hands on his apron before heading upstairs. He opened the door to Ricochet's room, pausing to come in quietly. "You needed somethin', Mr. Ricochet?"
Ricochet sat propped up in bed, his sheets covered with tissues and a half-eaten bowl of soup on the nightstand. His eyes were a bit red, a sign that he hadn't slept much last night. "Yeah. I'd like my paperwork from downstairs," he said.
"You need your rest, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long answered. "Ya won't get better if you're workin' as usual."
Ricochet frowned, and then he cleared his throat. "How can I when there are outlaws to outsmart, renegades to rustle and-"
BOOM!
Both Ricochet and Droop-a-Long froze upon hearing the explosion. Droop-a-Long turned to face the stairs. "And things are explodin' downstairs?" he finished.
He had no time to even move before Ricochet shot past him in a white blur, the force dragging him downstairs. He fell facefirst on the ground, and something sticky met his muzzle. A quick sample with his tongue revealed that it was the cake batter he'd made earlier that morning.
"Uh-oh," he groaned.
"DROOP-A-LONG!" Ricochet's roar could've been heard from another state. He turned to face Droop-a-Long with an angry expression on his face, and pointed to the walls, floor and stove, all of which were covered with sticky, half-cooked cake batter. "What is the meanin' of this?!"
"W-Well, I-"
"I can't even spend a day in peace without worryin' about you tryin' to get us killed! What were ya thinkin', leavin' a pan full of batter on the stove?! What kind of batter is this anyway?"
"It...it was cake batter, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "I reckon I put in a bit too much bakin' powder."
"You don't bake cake in a fryin' pan, Droop!" Ricochet slapped himself in the forehead at this. "Ugh, I would choose the wrong time to get sick..."
Droop-a-Long felt his hopes sink, and his ears drooped downwards. "Shucks, I'm sorry, Mr. Ricochet...I-I was just tryin' to surprise ya," he said. "It was supposed to be a breakfast cake."
Ricochet looked ready to yell some more, but he stopped upon hearing what Droop-a-Long was saying. "You were tryin' to surprise me?" he asked.
"Well, you ate a lot of puddin' and donuts the last time you were sick, so I figured that you would like a cake this time 'round," Droop-a-Long answered. "But the last time, I let the cake burn in the oven. So I was gonna cook it like a pancake...and then..."
Ricochet sighed upon seeing his deputy's sorrowful expression. "Aw, don't get too upset, Droop," he said. "It was mighty thoughtful of ya to try to make another cake for me. But..."
"You'd rather not have the place explode?" Droop-a-Long finished.
"Exactly. How's about you get me those homemade carrot cake biscuits from the diner across town?" Ricochet said. "We can share 'em for breakfast."
"I guess that'll be nice," Droop-a-Long said.
"Good. But before ya go, there's one thing you need to do." Ricochet started to head towards the other room in the office.
"And what's that, Mr. Ricochet?"
Ricochet returned a few moments later with a bucket and a brush. "You're gonna clean this up," he said, fixing his deputy with a stern glare.
Droop-a-Long sighed as he took the bucket and brush. "Right away, Mr. Ricochet."
The End
*awards Droop-a-Long with a gold star* You tried, Droop-a-Long. You screwed up, but you tried. :)
Next short might be inspired by a friendship prompt on tumblr. This one might either be AU or a serious one. I haven't quite figured it out yet.
Constructive criticism is great, and thanks brave kid for reading this story! It really means a lot!
God bless, iheartgod175
