Snow Joke

Snowed in out of town.

“Sno’ joke, Hutch. I can’t even see the other side of the street any more.”

“Sno’ joke?” Hutch retorted trying not to smile.

“You know what I mean,” Starsky snapped back. “My car is out there somewhere under half a ton of snow.”

“Along with the rest of the town’s vehicles too, most likely. From the looks of this weather nothing is going anywhere for some considerable amount of time, Starsk. Would you, please, stop prowling round this room and relax.”

“Supposing they send a snow plough out though?”

“In this? You’re kidding right?” Hutch wandered over to join his partner at the window.

“Its amazing that this hotel even still has power. This carries on much longer and there is a good chance that the lines will be down. You know what we ought to do?”

Starsky dragged his gaze away from the blizzard outside. “What?”

“We ought to see if we can get to that little café next door and see if they are still serving. You remember the one you thought looked promising because it displayed ‘forty five different pizza toppings available at all times.’ It’s going to be dark soon and I’d rather be back here before then. You think you can get through the night with a quick pizza and salad?”

“I’ll give it a try, not that I shall be working up much of an appetite after all, being cooped in this fleapit of a hotel all night.”

Hutch tried to look innocent. “Oh really? Are you sure about that?”

“OK, OK, point made. I guess you’re right. Its just I’d hate to be woken up half way through the night by a crunching or grinding sound and discover that my car has become a mangled heap after a run in with a plough.”

“There’s only one grinding sound you are likely to be hearing tonight and it ain’t gonna be coming from the road outside, lover boy.” Hutch gave his partner a quick swat on the rear with the back of his mind.

Starsky continued to stare mournfully out in to the street.

“Starsk, hey, come on I am going to feel offended if the only thing you care about round here is that tomato of yours.” Hutch grabbed his partner by the shoulder and forcefully turned him round so they were face to face. “Dinner and an early night, OK?”

“Yeah, OK. I must admit after looking over the menu next door, there were several different concoctions that I’d like to try out. Did you notice the garlic and prune?”

Hutch felt his stomach lurch. “No and its something you won’t be trying either. I don’t want to share a bed with you with garlic on your breath. I have something picked out for you, in any case.”

“What?” Starsky said, more interested now that they were discussing tonight’s evening meal.

“Ham, cheese and something called crushed tomato,” Hutch replied, trying desperately to hide a widening smile behind his hand.

Noticing the flash of anger crossing his partner’s face, Hutch made a speedy dash in the direction of the hotel room door, reaching it just before the sneaker that Starsky had hurled after him.