Big Fat Liar

Someone’s lying. Who could it be?

Part of the Me and Thee truth/lie challenge.

Captain Dobey stepped off the scale outside his office just as Starsky was passing by. Starsky could have sworn he heard the thing groan with relief, but he wasn’t about to say so. Dobey had been a real bear ever since they’d super-glued him to his seat last week, and Starsky wasn’t taking any chances.

Dobey saw him and smiled as he straightened out his tie. “Starsky.”

“Mornin’, Cap,” Starsky said carefully. “How’s things?”

“Beautiful day to be alive, isn’t it?”

“I-if you say so, Captain. Hey, did you happen to see—”

The door burst open and Hutch sprang through, all smiles and joie de vive. “Hey, Cap’n! Lookin’ good! Lookin’ good!”

Starsky thought maybe he’d entered the Twilight Zone when he saw his partner actually pat Dobey’s belly several times. The fact that Dobey’s belly didn’t stop moving even after Hutch stopped patting was a little disconcerting. “Down another couple, are you?”

“That makes five so far this week,” Dobey agreed. “Edith says that if she wasn’t already married, she’d be offering you a ring right about now.”

Hutch raised his hands carefully. “She’s all yours, Cap’n.”

“You’d better believe it, Hutchinson. Now get back to work, both of you. And finish those reports!”

“Was he whistling?” Starsky asked in amazement as the door closed behind Dobey’s corpulent form.

“Just happy to be alive, Starsk. Just happy to be alive.”

“Somethin’ weird’s goin’ on around here.”

“Why do you say that, partner?” Hutch asked innocently. Too innocently.

Starsky’s eyes narrowed. “You two smokin’ stuff from the evidence locker again?”

“Starsky,” Hutch tsked. “Just because our captain is on his way to becoming a healthier man doesn’t give you any reason to make fun.” He looked his partner up and down. “You could stand to lose a few yourself, you know.”

“What?! I’ll have you know I can still fit into the same pants I wore when I got outta the Army!”

“Yeah, only now they’re painted on.”

“I’ll show you!” Stomping over to the scale, Starsky stepped aboard and waited until the numbers stopped spinning. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the result. “No way! How could… did you…that’s impossible!”

“What’s it say?” Hutch asked, sidling closer, only to be slapped away.

“Forget it! This thing is broken, that’s what it is! No wonder Dobey thinks he’s losin’ weight! Thing’s gotta be fifty pounds off! At least!”

“Fifty, huh? That’s not what it said when I stepped on it myself this morning. No sir. One eighty five, just like always.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh. Right on the nose.” Hutch tapped his own belly. “I tell ya, Starsk, it’s all that healthy living. You should try it yourself, sometime. Make a new man out of you.”

“I like the old one just fine, thank you very much.”

“Suit yourself,” Hutch replied, shrugging. “C’mon, let’s go to work.” Holding the door open, he stepped aside. “Think you can still fit through, or should I have the sides greased?”

“Ha, ha. Very funny. You should take that act on the road.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

*******

The next week, Starsky nearly ran into Dobey outside in the hallway, next to the scale. A close look at the Captain’s shirt buttons convinced Starsky they were dying of strangulation, but he didn’t say a word.

“Starsky,” Dobey greeted him, smiling. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Uh—if you say so, sir,” Starsky replied, wiping a drop of rainwater off the tip of his nose. “How goes the diet?”

“Lost another ten pounds,” Dobey replied proudly. “The doctor says at this rate, I’ll be off the blood pressure pills in a month, tops.”

“That’s…uh…great, Cap. Really great. Did you…uh…happen to see Hu—”

The door burst open on cue and Hutch bounded out, the grin on his face Pepsodent white and a mile wide. “Well hello there, handsome fellow. Did you happen to see our Captain anywhere?”

Starsky gaped as Dobey preened. “Hutchinson, I never would have believed it, but you were right.” He leaned in closer. “Now see what you can do about that partner of yours, will you? Fitness tests are coming up next month and I wouldn’t want to have to split the two of you up.”

“Split us—Now wait just a minute here, Captain!” Starsky yelled. “The day I can’t out-sprint Twinkle Toes here is the day I—”

But he was talking to a closed door. He turned to his partner. “You’re up to somethin’. I know it. And when I find out what it is….”

Rolling his eyes, Hutch grabbed Starsky’s elbow and spun him back around. “C’mon, partner. I’ll treat you to the cottage cheese special down in the cafeteria.”

“No way,” Starsky retorted, snatching his arm back and stomping over to the scale. “I’ll show you, you miserable—okay! That’s it! Somethin’s goin’ on here, and I wanna know what it is, and I wanna know now!”

“Starsk,” Hutch began quietly, “buddy, I…uh…didn’t want to be the one to have to tell you this, but…I was passing by dispatch this morning and I overheard Carla talking….”

“Sweet little Carla?” Starsky asked, leering. “We just went out the other night. What did she say, huh?”

“Well.” Hutch shuffled his feet and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “She, well, Starsk, she said it was like lying underneath a horse, and not in a good way.”

“Wha–?”

“And Sadie? I’m afraid to say it, partner, but she said being with you was like getting flattened by a steamroller.”

“A steam—you’re nuts! We had a great time that night!”

“I’m sure one of you did, but it wasn’t Sadie. Sorry, buddy.”

“You’re lyin’! There’s no way—”

Just then, three girls from the steno pool walked up to the two detectives, stopped in front of Starsky, looked him up and down, and left, giggling.

Starsky turned the color of curdled milk.

“I told you, partner.”

“Hutch. Hutch, you gotta help me. Please! You gotta help!”

“Me?” Hutch asked. “What can I do?”

“Whatever you did for Dobey, man! Do it for me! Please! I’m beggin’ ya, here!”

“Oh, I don’t know, Starsk. I mean, what I did for Dobey, that takes a lot of discipline.”

“I got discipline! I got tons of it! More’n Dobey, even! Please, partner! Help me!”

Carefully hiding his smile, Hutch nodded.

*******

The following week, Starsky ran up to the scale, dripping with sweat from having run up and down all the stairs in the precinct five times.

Still jogging in place, he took his pulse, then grabbed a paper sack sitting next to the cigarette machine, pulled out a plastic bottle, held his nose, and choked down a Hutchinson Special.

After making sure it wasn’t going to make a quick return exit, he stuffed the bottle back into the bag, set the bag back down, and stepped on the scale, his eyes tightly closed.

When the numbers stopped spinning, he took a cautious peak and heaved out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god,” he murmured fervently. “Back to my old fighting weight.”

Hearing Dobey’s door begin to squeal open, he stepped back into a niche in the wall and peered out as Dobey checked out the hallway and stepped out of his office.

A second later, the stairwell door opened, and Hutch stepped out, grinning to beat the band. “Cap’n.”

“Hutchinson.”

“I think this belongs to you,” Hutch said, handing over a flat, round balance weight.

“Thank you, Hutchinson. And I think this belongs to you.” Dobey pulled out his wallet and handed over a twenty, which Hutch made promptly disappear.

“That makes us even for the super glue gag, right?”

Nodding curtly, Dobey turned and walked back into his office.

“Hutch!!”