Stolen
by TLR
A parody based on the Stiller and Wilson movie Starsky and Hutch.
Plot: One of Starsky's favorite possessions is stolen, and it isn't his watch, or his partner.
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6:30 am.
Starsky's beach house.
Starsky woke up and switched off the alarm clock, then jumped out of his waterbed and pulled his workout clothes on, ready for his morning routine, which always included some kind of exercise-be it running, karate moves, or a lady-some orange juice, a shower, and picking Hutch up for work.
But this morning was a little different. Hutch had crashed on the couch following a night of celebrating the arrest of Reuben Smith, a long-sought drug dealer. Smith wasn't Reese Feldman-level, but still a nice notch in their belt.
"Hey, hotshot," Starsky said tossing a couch pillow at the sleeping Hutch, "rise and shine. I'll be back after my run, unless you want to go with me."
"No," Hutch said rolling over onto his back and giving him a sleepy look. "Think I'll sleep a few more, then grab a shower."
"Right," Starsky said as he began to jog toward the door, "but you better be ready for work by the time I get back."
"Oh, I will," Hutch said plumping his pillow and burrowing his cheek into it. "See you in a few."
Starsky shook his head in half-exasperation, half-fondness, and jogged on out.
Inside, Hutch yawned and closed his eyes, but his slumber was disrupted by Starsky's sudden cry of pain. Hutch rolled off the couch and ran outside in boxers and bare feet.
"Noooooooooooooooo!" Starsky howled with hands to his head.
Hutch instantly saw the problem. The Torino was gone.
A groan escaped Starsky as his knees gave out. Hutch caught him and sat him down.
"Easy, partner," Hutch said wrapping his arms around him. "We'll find it. We'll get it back."
"Who?" Starsky sobbed into Hutch's chest. "Who would do something like this? Why?"
"It's a magnificent machine, that's why, and everybody knows it. It could be anybody."
Starsky clutched Hutch's forearm. "How could I have left the keys in the ignition? How?"
"I don't know. We were celebrating. I guess we got a little too excited. We'll share the blame 50/50 on this one."
Starsky looked up at him with hope and tears in his eyes. "You think...you think some kids just took it for a joy ride? And will bring it back?"
"'I'd like to think so," Hutch said stroking his hair. "But we should hope for the best, and prepare for the worst. Come on." He helped his partner to his feet and over to his camper truck. "We'll make this our top priority. Maybe Huggy's heard something."
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Huggy's doorway. Few minutes later.
"Breeze," Huggy said blinking sleep from his eyes and looking at Hutch's tan boxers. "What's up? I don't usually have the pleasure of your company until high noon, and rarely here in my humble abode."
Hutch stood with a strong, protective arm around Starsky's shoulders. "It's an emergency, Hug. Someone stole his car."
Huggy's features darkened. "What the-that's all you had to say. Get on in here."
As Hutch moved a numb Starsky inside Huggy's colorful, modern home, Huggy tossed Hutch some clothes. "Put some clothes on, baby. Corky's gettin' a little distracted."
Hutch looked toward the kitchen, where he could see Huggy's iguana climbing from a barstool and onto the counter, its tongue flicking in and out.
"Yeah," Hutch said sitting Starsky down on the sofa. "Stay put, partner." He pulled Huggy's clothes on-black and white plaid flares with a red satin shirt.
Huggy handed Hutch a pair of black and white wingtip shoes. "Lookin' chill, my dude. But you know I'd have called you if I heard about the ride. The thought of that red and white treasure bein' in the wrong hands makes The Bear's blood boil."
"I feel you. Starsky feels you."
"Can I get you gents a drink?"
"Just juice if you have it. We need to keep a clear head if we're going to find the Torino today."
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Thirty minutes later.
Police precinct.
Starsky bumped right into the doorjamb of the squad room, so Hutch had to steer him toward Captain Dobey's office.
"Hutch!" Dobey scowled when his detectives entered his office. "What's wrong with Starsky, and why the hell are you dressed like Huggy Bear? Are you undercover?"
"No, Cap," Hutch said settling Starsky into a chair and reaching down to roll up the hems of his slacks a turn or two. "The Torino's been stolen."
"Have you filed a report with Auto Theft?"
"We're going to," Hutch nodded. "But, Cap," he said pulling Starsky back up to his feet again. "This one is ours."
As he guided Starsky to the captain's door, Dobey shot to his feet and pointed a pen at him. "Hutch! No private parties!"
Hutch just offered a shrug and led Starsky through the busy squad room.
"Hey, look!" Officer Manetti said walking over to them and giving Hutch's clothes a once-over. "Somebody call Ringling Brothers and tell 'em one of their clowns is missing!"
"And one of their monkeys," Hutch drawled softly without slowing his walk, leaving Manetti and his crowd to stare after them.
Hutch escorted Starsky down the hall and to the men's room, where he closed and locked the door.
"All right, partner," he said turning Starsky around and leaning him back against the door. "Talk to me. I feel like I have half a partner out there, and it's going to take the best bro-team in Bay City to find your car."
Starsky finally raised his eyes to meet his partner's. "Hutch, you don't know what that did to me when I stepped outside and there was just blank air staring me in the face. The parking space looked so...empty and lonely without that car. Just like my heart right now."
"I know, brother, I know. I feel the same way. Look. We're going to hit the streets, search every-"
There was a knock at the door, and then Captain Dobey said, "Why are you two in the bathroom together?! There's a phone call in my office for Starsky about the Torino!"
That snapped Starsky back to reality. He and Hutch tore out of the restroom and ran down the hall, through the squad room, and into the captain's office.
"Starsky here," Starsky panted as he snatched up the receiver. "Speak."
A low, gravelly voice answered back, "If you want to see that sweet car of yours again, Starsky, you'll do as I say."
"Okay," Starsky said as he moved the receiver closer to Hutch so he could hear the conversation. "Let's hear it."
"All right," the caller said. "Unless you want your car to end up in a chop shop-"
"No!" Starsky cried. "Please! Don't hurt it! Just tell me what you want."
"We want what all kidnappers want. Money."
"How much? Name it."
"Three million dollars."
"Three-what?"
"One for each Zebra."
Starsky's head dropped.
"I don't have that kind of money."
"Then you better find somebody who does. I want it by six this evening, large and small bills, in a couple of gym bags. Leave it at the blue mailbox in front of St. Martin's Church on Lawson Street, and then get lost. If you don't follow these instructions to the T, or if you pull anything funny, you can kiss your Torino bye-bye."
Click.
Starsky stared at the receiver in his hand.
Hutch gently took it and replaced it in the cradle. "But where are we going to get $3,000,000?"
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"Say no more," Huggy said as he slid a large bookcase to one side in his office to reveal a safe. He crouched down to work the combination lock.
Once the safe was open, Starsky reached in and started filling the duffel bags with stacks of cash. "We'll get your money back, Hug. Somehow." When the bags were bulging, Starsky hefted them up, one in each hand and said, "Let's go, Hutch."
"Not in my clothes," Huggy said to Hutch as he went to a closet and pulled out some black cords and a white button shirt. "Think you left somethin' behind when you were with Sally that night. They match the wingtips too."
"Sally?" Starsky asked. "Do I know a Sally?"
"BSH," Hutch said whisking off his clothes and dressing in the ones Huggy held out.
"BSH?" Huggy asked.
"Before Starsky and Hutch."
Once dressed, Hutch held his hands out. "Give me those bags."
"What?" Starsky asked. "Why?"
"You're too close to the case," Hutch said taking both from his hands. "Too emotional. You may get hurt, or get us both hurt or killed. I'll make the drop."
"Hutch, I have held your life in my hands before. If you don't trust me to do this, then you don't trust me in anything."
They stood looking at each other in the silence for a long time, then Hutch handed one of the bags back. "Touche, partner. Touche."
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At exactly 6 o'clock that evening, Starsky and Hutch each carried a gym bag of money to the blue mailbox in front of St. Martin's Church on Lawson Street, set it down, then kept walking.
As they reached the end of the street and rounded the corner, they saw Captain Dobey personally arresting a man, slamming him into the Torino, cuffing him, and reading him his rights.
"Hey!" Starsky said as he and Hutch ran up to them. "Easy, Cap! No dents please! How'd you get this guy?"
Dobey glared at Starsky, then Hutch. "While you two were caving to kidnappers, I was off doing the legwork myself! This guy Tito runs the biggest chop shop in Bay City! You could have solved this case and recovered your car in about fifteen minutes!"
Dobey didn't wait for a response. He led Tito to his own car and put him in the backseat.
Starsky and Hutch looked at each other.
"Huggy's money!" they both shouted at the same time, then jumped into the Torino.
But as they rounded the corner and double-parked next to the blue mailbox, they froze. Priests, nuns, and dozens of children were gathered around the gym bags of cash, taking it out and sharing it with one another.
"Wow," Hutch said. "What do we do now?"
Huggy came strolling up to the Torino, watching the commotion and excitement over his money.
"Well," Huggy shrugged, "looks like the biggest orphanage in Bay City got the biggest donation they've had in a long time."
"Thanks, Hug," Starsky said grinning up at him. "I'm just glad I got my car back."
End