Author's Note: This 100-word drabble is for owlcroft, who has been requesting I write a Hardcastle and McCormick story, which I haven't done in a looong time.
I do not own Hardcastle and McCormick, or any of the beloved characters.
I am writing for fun and feedback, NOT for profit.
-ck
HUMBLE PIE
When Sarah was in residence at Gulls' Way, she would prepare certain dishes a day prior to Thanksgiving; vegetables that could be reheated, or deserts. So on the first Thanksgiving after Sarah had left, McCormick decided to bake a pie on Wednesday.
Hardcastle studied the broken crust and orange filling splattered on the floor.
"Didja forget to wear oven mitts?"
McCormick had retrieved a broom and dustpan. "No. It just . . . slipped."
"Hmm." Hardcastle squinted at the ex-con. "What's gonna be desert now?"
Setting the broom aside, Mark reached into the freezer for a second frozen pumpkin pie.
"I was prepared."