"You're early." My partner yelled from the bedroom. I hadn't slept well last night. I didn't know why. We didn't have any major difficult cases we were working on; things had been pretty routine for a while now. So I got up and stopped at the bakery for breakfast for Starsky and me.

"Yeah. I brought breakfast." I yelled back.

"Great. I'm gonna have a quick Eiffel and dig. Why don't ya take a lion's and have a butcher's at the TV?" I looked around, suspiciously. I thought I might be having a dream, or that there was someone else in Starsky's apartment. I was pretty sure I was awake.

"Starsk? What did you say?" He was already in the shower and didn't hear me. I sat down and thought about what I just heard. Was Starsky sleepwalking? Was he speaking in tongues? What was going on?

I grabbed the issue of Car and Driver off the coffee table and thumbed through it waiting for Starsky to finish. I knew he wouldn't be long, or else we'd be late for work.

Starsky came out of the bathroom and headed to the bedroom to change. "Uh, Starsk, what did you say to me before you started your shower?"

"Oh, um, I said I was gonna have an Eiffel and dig and that you should take a lion's and have a butcher's at the television." Hmm. I decided it was unlikely he was sleepwalking at this point. Maybe he had suffered a head injury over night and his language patterns were mixed up.

"That's what I thought you said. Starsky, are you okay?" I walked over to him. I started to inspect his damp head for injury. "Did you hit your head or something?"

"Hey, cut it out, will ya? I'm fine. What's the matter with you?" My partner seemed annoyed by my inspection.

"What's the matter with me? You're gonna have an Eiffel and a dig, Starsky! What the hell is that?"

"Oh." He chuckled softly. "It's Cockney rhyming slang, Hutch. Haven't ya heard of it before?"

I just stared at him. Every new day with my partner was an adventure. "Yeah. I've heard of it. I just didn't expect my New York-born, California-raised, never been to England partner to start spouting gibberish to me at 7:30 this fine Tuesday morning."

"Here." He threw a magazine to me that he picked up from his nightstand. "I read about it in this magazine. Ya want me to help you translate what I said?" He had that devilish look in his eyes. He was having a good time with this.

"Sure, go ahead." I sat back down as Starsky finished dressing.

"So, I'll give you the English translations of the words and then you can tell me what I said." He said smiling.

"Go ahead, professor." I was beginning to enjoy this, too.

"Okay. Eiffel is Eiffel tower – shower. And dig is dig in the grave – shave. Do ya get what's goin' on?"

"Yeah. You use the first word of a phrase whose last word rhymes with the actual word you mean."

"Yeah. Hey, you know, your definition is better than the one in the magazine. Anyway, lion's is lion's lair – chair and butcher's is butcher's hook – look. Okay, now you translate."

I could do this. "So what you were saying earlier was, 'you were going to have a quick shower and shave, and that I should take a chair and a look at the TV.'"

"Yeah! That's right! Ain't it great!" Starsky seemed ever so pleased with himself.

"Yeah, it's great, Starsk. Uh, you're not planning to try to use this slang all day, are you?" I could tell that he was.

"Of course not, Hutch. Do ya think I have time to learn all kinds of Cockney rhyming slang for use in our every day work?" I had no doubt that he could do just that.

"Okay, good. Because if you were to keep this up all day, you might find yourself with an ocean on your face." He looked at me quizzically, then realization hit him.

"Ah, ocean liner – shiner. Very good." It was going to be a special day.

Almost immediately after logging in we got a call about a dead body found in the back alley behind a grocery store on Woodson Avenue. By the time we arrived, there were a couple of black and whites there already. We checked in with them.

"So, where's the brown body?" Starsky asked. Oh, boy. I'm going to kill him.

"Huh?" Lawson said. The uniformed officer looked confused.

"Cockney rhyming slang, Ted. You know, brown bread – dead. Where's the dead body?"

"Hey, that's pretty funny, Starsky." Lawson replied.

"Don't encourage him, Ted. Can ya show us the body?" I stared my partner down, silently pleading with him to knock it off.

"Looks pretty fresh. Coroner should be here any minute. I'd say the body's only been out here a few hours." Lawson was explaining, as Starsky lifted the blanket from the body.

"Yeah, definitely hasn't been outside all night. Don't even think he's been dead that long. No blood, doesn't appear to be any obvious foul play at all. We'll need the coroner's report to know what happened here." I agreed with my partner. Probably natural causes, maybe a heart attack.

The coroner arrived and the body was removed fairly quickly. As I headed toward Starsky, I noticed a crowd had gathered around my partner and everyone was laughing.

"Give us one more, Starsky." Just what I needed.

"How about this one. Ah, I woke up with a sore Gregory this morning." This time, he gave it his best effort, grabbing and rubbing his neck. It was a performance worthy of an Oscar.

The uniforms, and now the coroner, were all trying to figure it out. John Evans, one of the uniforms said, "I got it! Gregory Peck – neck!" He was delighted to be the one to get it first.

Starsky slapped him on the back. "You got it, Evans! Look, Hutch and I gotta roll. See you guys later. And stay outta Barney!"

Starsky headed toward me and we made our way to the car. I heard, "Barney Rubble – trouble!" Then gales of laughter erupted from the group as they dispersed to their own cars. I looked to my partner. He had a big grin on his face.

"Pleased with yourself, are you?" I asked.

"What can I say, I gotta gift." Starsky smirked.

"Yeah, you're gifted, alright." I said under my breath.

"Whadya say?" My partner asked.

"Oh, nothing." I said.

"Then let's hit the frog, Hutch." He was really asking for it.

"Frog?" I asked. This was like torture.

"Frog and toad – road? Get with the program, Hutch." I was gonna kill him.

"You know, Starsky. You would have to have some huge Niagaras to keep this up."

Starsky only took a second to get it. "Niagara Falls – balls. That's good, Hutch. See, isn't this fun?"

I just shook my head. It was a phase, and it wouldn't last for long. But I guess so long as he was good at catching the babbling, and putting them in the ginger, and kept his Gunga up and a smile on his boat, then I wouldn't get too Moby of him. Especially since all the rest of the time with Starsky was usually very Robin.

The End

Note: Most, but not all, of the translations of the Cockney rhyming slang found in the last paragraph can be found at the url below. Have fun! Denise

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