Pop Rocks

Double drabble.

‘It’s like catnip to Starsky, who’s never met a carbonated foodstuff he didn’t like. The machine drawer thumps, packet rips, sugar crackles in Starsky’s mouth several times a day and Hutch is going crazy.’

Hutch never ceases to be amazed by the effect the precinct candy machine has on his daily life, since he himself never puts a dime in the thing. He’s long bemoaned the otherworldly magnetic pull it has on his partner, hopping him up on a never-ending sugar rush. Now 1976 brings… Pop Rocks. The crackling’s what’s happening.

It’s like catnip to Starsky, who’s never met a carbonated foodstuff he didn’t like. The machine drawer thumps, packet rips, sugar crackles in Starsky’s mouth several times a day and Hutch is going crazy. Especially when Starsky opens and closes his mouth to vary the sound, a popping candy concerto ending in a shower of office supplies thrown by irritated detectives.

Finally the day ends. Torino doors slam, keys in ignition, packet rips, Starsky tips his head back, pours the candy in a vivid arc onto his tongue, waggles it at Hutch, eyebrows raised.

Hutch throws his hands in the air and shoves his tongue in Starsky’s mouth. It feels like there’s a little firework display going off inside his head. He draws back, licks his lips. They’re cherry-flavored.

Starsky grins. Hutch thinks maybe the manufacturers were onto something after all.