MDS/N 1: I again passed Richard76310's challenge to another writer. This time it was none other than the incredibly funny P.J. Murphy. This is his contribution to the little mini-series dubbed WHTT. This is another story that you should not read in public as the hysterical laughter this story will cause may be misconstrued. I would however warn you to have a family member or close friend check on you after reading this as you may be laughing so hard that you encounter breathing problems. If you have someone check on you, they could at least call and ambulance or if close enough rush you to a local Urgent Care or ER (which ever is closest). I personally am typing this from my hospital bed as I was admitted with heart palpitations I had laughed so hard and so long. Let that be a lesson to you kiddies.

MDS/N 2: If you haven't given P.J. Murphy's story "CATs and DOGs" why haven't you? Do you hate fun? When you see others having fun does it upset you and stick in your craw? I mean, this story has it all fun, covert Charah and all our favorite characters in a new and exciting scenario. You don't like AU's that stray from the original format. Well, then what are you doing reading Fan Fiction? Look, I shouldn't half to convince you to read P.J.'s stuff, its like breathing it's just something you do. Well enough of my rambling, just go read it, or the next time you go to follow a story, you'll find that the 'E' button on your keyboard has worn out.

What Happened This Time?

Chapter 8: The Smooth Taste of Brain Bleach

Guest Written By:

P.J. Murphy

A/N: Just thought I would toss in a chapter on "Chuck Vs. the Drabbles." Thanks to MarkeyDeSad and all of the authors who have contributed. Let me know in the reviews if I went too far…or not far enough. :-D

Casey growled when he heard the beep from his computer. General Beckman was trying to contact him…again. She really knew how to ruin a quiet night. Casey had settled down with some scotch and his "yacht rock" playlist. After dealing with the adventures of an oversexed…and overly kinky…Chuck and Sarah, he needed a break. But he got the feeling he could buy every distillery in the world, and they still couldn't provide him enough good-tasting brain bleach.

He connected with Beckman, whose image appeared on the screen. She was at home rather than the office. But he saw enough empty liquor bottles behind her to make him think she was auditioning for the lead in Arthur.

"General?"

"Castle has had another breach, Colonel Casey," Beckman tiredly announced, looking as if she already knew the culprits. So did Casey.

"How?" Casey was dumbfounded. "I changed the passcode to get in. I never wrote it anywhere or told anybody."

"Let me guess: the code is 73242647463."

Casey turned from dumbfounded to shocked on a dime. "How did you?"

Beckman rolled her eyes. "Try to be a little more original than spelling out 'ReaganIsGod', Colonel."

Casey quickly scanned the live surveillance. "That's odd. Nothing looks like it was damaged this time."

"Roll the footage back to two hours ago, when the timestamp says the code was punched in," Beckman told him.

Casey did as he was told. He placed all of the camera feeds onto a single monitor and then linked it to Beckman's computer so she would see the same thing. He ran the video.

He slammed his head on his desk. Over…and over…and over.

They saw Chuck and Sarah walk into Castle. Chuck was wearing a military dress uniform and carrying what looked like a rider's crop. Sarah crawled across the floor right behind him wearing a leather crotchless bikini and thigh-high leather boots with seven-inch heels. Both Casey and Beckman reached for the nearest bottle of booze, each downing them in an accurate imitation of Bluto from National Lampoon's Animal House.

"What is with these two?" Beckman called out in utter bewilderment. "Why must they…wait." She looked at the image. "Why does Bartowski have red hair tied into a bun?"

Casey didn't want to say it; the mere thought was making him retch. "He's impersonating…well…you."

"WHAT KIND OF SICK JOKE IS THIS?! ?! ?!" Beckman bellowed. "And the rider's crop? Who does he think I am, George Patton?"

Beckman paused. "Wait, where did he get the uniform?"

Casey's eyes widened, and he made a beeline for his closet.

"THAT SON OF A BITCH!" he screamed as he discovered his Marine dress uniform wasn't there. "I'm going to kill him!"

"What is going on with those two?" Beckman wondered. "When did their private lives become so…bizarre?"

Casey turned up the audio on the surveillance. Chuck's voice could be heard.

"Agent Walker, you have failed yet another mission," Chuck said in a very stern voice, smacking the crop against his leg. "Perhaps you are not as talented as you claim. Maybe I should arrange for a little 'accident' to befall you."

"No, General Beckman," Sarah pleaded as she looked up at Chuck. "I want to be in the field. I want to serve my country. I'll do anything, General. Anything!"

Beckman had a serious case of facepalm. "I can't deal with this."

"You can't?" an annoyed Casey shot back. "At least you're 3,000 miles away from it."

"I don't get it. I've never seen Bartowski act this bold and take charge. Why couldn't he be like this when I gave him the job as an agent?"

"I think he prefers the jobs Walker gives him."

Beckman growled quietly as the footage continued.

"Obeying my every command will provide you, Agent Walker, with certain…perks."

Chuck slapped the crop against his leg again, only this time Sarah shivered and gave a squeal.

"Very…very good…perks." Another slap, another shiver, an even louder squeal.

"Yes! Yes! Anything!" Sarah panted; her eyes overloaded with carnal lust.

"I'm glad we understand each other." Chuck slapped the crop against his leg again. This time, Sarah rolled on the floor writhing and gasping in orgasmic pleasure.

"Ugh," Casey said in complete revulsion. He then paused and rewound the footage. He froze the image at Chuck slapping the crop on his leg. "He's holding something else."

Beckman stared intently. "Is that a remote control…"

Casey slammed his fist on the ESC button to shut off the surveillance. "Too much! Too much!" both Casey and Beckman wailed.

"I will talk to them again, General," Casey said in defeat. "Actually, I'll talk to Walker. Bartowski won't be very chatty once I ger my hands on him."

"I'll deal with those two, Colonel," Beckman countered. "Change the passcode on Castle to something new."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And don't change it to 67278537255."

Casey was stunned. "How did you…"

"The NRA does NOT rule all, Colonel."

Casey huffed. He then saw something behind Beckman. "Is that your husband?" Casey zoomed in on the image. "Why does he have a blow-up doll…"

"GOOD NIGHT!" Beckman immediately terminated the link.

Casey's head dropped into his hands. He then heard someone knocking at the door. He went to open it to find a woman wearing a leather bustier, fishnet stockings, and black stiletto shoes. She dangled a set of handcuffs from her finger. Her intent was unmistakable.

"I've missed you…big John," Gertrude Verbanski purred.

Casey sighed in resignation. "Goddamn Bartowski and Walker. Now it's spreading."

MDS A/N 3: How is everyone finding this multiple author mini series? Please leave a review and I will be sharing them with the other authors. Thank you for your time and attention.