99 Jump Street (A Brooklyn Nine-Nine Fanfiction)

Chapter 2

"This sucks."

"Oh, come on, Rosa, it's not so bad," Amy insisted, scooping a steaming glob of mashed potatoes onto a boy's lunch tray.

"We're lunch ladies," Rosa deadpanned. "I'd rather help Hitchcock with his hemorrhoid cream."

"Okay, so it's not the best job in the world," Amy admitted. "But at least we're not Jake right now."

Rosa couldn't help but snicker. "I think he might be the only one who has it rougher than we do."

Amy giggled. "Maybe, or possibly Boyle..."

Right on cue, Boyle entered the lunch room and sauntered right over to Amy and Rosa, lunch tray in hand.

"Well, hello ladies!" Boyle said eagerly, not taking his eyes off of Rosa. "You two look absolutely lovely in those hairnets."

"If you say that again I'll take it off and shove it down your throat," Rosa warned.

"Oh Rosa! You are too funny," Charles said, laughing to himself. Amy attempted to laugh along with him, but she just couldn't do it. Rosa only glared at Boyle with annoyance.

"So what's on the menu today, girls?" Boyle asked.

"Hot dogs. Chicken nuggets. Peas," Rosa said unenthusiastically.

Boyle just made a face. "No fish?"

"Nope."

"No pasta of any kind?"

"Nope."

"How about Thai food?"

"No..."

"Not even some chicken marsala?"

"Oh come on, Boyle!" Amy finally snapped. "This is all we have here. You're just going to have to deal with it, I guess..."

"This is a catastrophe!" Boyle exclaimed passionately. "No wonder these children can't do simple math! They're malnourished, they're fed like animals-"

"Calm down, Boyle," Rosa said.

"Yeah," Amy added, "It's really not even that bad. These kids just don't have the same...refined palate as you. They don't really care what we give them as long as it's edible."

"Well, this is just not acceptable," Boyle said haughtily. "I'm going to go find the principal of this school and have a word with him."

"Uh...yeah. Good luck with that," Amy said, watching as Boyle walked away in a huff.

"...Refined  palate?" Rosa repeated sarcastically.

"Hey, I speak Boyle," Amy shrugged.

"Congratulations. You must be so proud."

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"Come on, move it! You can do better than that, Michaels!" Terry shouted at an unfortunate boy puffing on his inhalor. "My babies' Barbie Glam Convertible goes faster than you!"

"That was oddly specific," Holt commented.

"Shut up!"

Terry dug his foot in the grass with nervous anticipation. Watching all of the teens slacking off and flirting while they were supposed to be running the mile infuriated him.

"Come on, let's go! You're falling behind!" Terry shouted as the slower kids passed by him, just completing their first lap.

"They're only children, Terry," Holt reminded him.