Sirens and Sprinkles

A Sprinkling

Roger was the first to notice something was up. His nose twitched as he chewed his raspberry-filled treat. "Is there a particular reason this smells off?" He narrowed his eyes. "These weren't touching the lemon filled ones, were they?"

Walt rolled his eyes but said, "I don't think lemons are the culprit, but something's definitely up."

Dave squirmed in his seat, fully expecting them to throw him in the trash along with his doughnuts when he spilled the beans. "I kinda sorta got them out of a dumpster. Officer Jones made Dylan throw 'em out."

Walt and Roger shrugged and bit into their doughnuts again. "Eh, they still taste good," Walt said. "I wish they had more of whatever that spice is on them, though."

"You're not mad?"

"Hell no!" Roger leaned back in his chair and planted his boots on the table's edge. "Getting free doughnuts is awesome no matter how they smell, so there's no way I'm mad at you. That cop on the other hand..." Roger bared his teeth in an icing stained snarl. "I wouldn't mind teaching him a lesson."

Dave didn't like the mischievous gleam in his eye. "He's not worth the trouble."

"For once, I agree with Roger," Walt said as he scratched Polka behind the ears. Her tail thumped a cheerful rhythm on the floor as he found her sweet spot. "This Officer Jones fellow has been giving me hell every time I take Polka out for a walk. If he keeps showing so much interest in where her poop goes, I'm going to shove it somewhere he won't like."

"I say we prank him." When Dave opened his mouth to object, Roger added, "Would you rather dumpster dive every week?"

His shoulders sagged. They'd go through this with or without him, and he'd rather avoid getting more pranks played on him too. "I'm in, but let's not do anything too nuts. I'd rather not get arrested."

Roger took that as a challenge. "So we can't make their sirens play 'Shake It Off'?"

Walt snorted. "I'd assume making people want to rip their ears off counts as doing something nuts."

"You guys are no fun," Roger said with a pout.

"We need to do something to get our message across though," Walt said. He cracked his knuckles absentmindedly as he thought, sending a spray of sprinkles raining onto the table.

"Maybe we should have you pop your disgusting joints outside their window," Roger muttered. "But I guess that's still too torturous."

Walt twisted in his chair, cracking his back.

Before Roger could make another part of Walt crack, Dave said, "Hang on guys." He smirked as he glanced at the sugary mess surrounding them. "I think I know just what we can do."

###

Dave and Roger sat in the fire truck, waiting for Walt to give the signal. The smell of smoke lingered on the weathered seats, and dog hair clung to every inch of the vehicle's interior. Dave cradled a bucket full of sprinkles in his lap as he watched fireflies dance outside.

Finally, the radio crackled to life. "They're leaving the station," Walt said as sirens blared in the background.

"Roger that. Let's do this!" Roger drove to the police station and somehow managed to resist the urge to sound the fire truck's own siren for once in his life. He flashed Dave a thumbs up as he extended the ladder. "Try not to eat 'em all on your way up."

Dave rolled his eyes and clamored up the ladder to the roof of the police station. After taking a moment to watch the sun dip below the horizon, he grabbed a fistful of sprinkles from his bucket. He hurled the sugary confetti off the roof, sending it clattering against the station's windows like rain as the wind blew it all over the place.

Roger leaned out the window and yelled something, but a thoroughly irritated, "Hey you!" drowned him out. Officer Jones sprinted out of the station with his hat askew. "Freeze!"

The ladder retracted with a rusty groan. Dave hung on for dear life as Roger yelled, "Not on your life, you soggy napkin!" and slammed his foot on the gas.

The wind lashed Dave's face as sirens and flashing lights zoomed after them. His heart hammered so hard he almost thought all those doughnuts had clogged his arteries. Yet, he wouldn't trade the feeling for anything. If he didn't need both hands to hold onto the ladder and keep the bucket from flying into the cop car's windshield, he would have held his arms up and cheered.

The police car pulled up beside them. "Pull over," snarled Officer Jones. Veins stood out against his skin like a roadmap.

Roger blew a red-tongued raspberry at him. "No way in hell, you doughnut dumping dingdong!"

The chase continued as their sirens screeched at each other through all of Maplevale until orders barked from Officer Jones's radio and his swearing broke through the racket. He swerved off to handle whatever call had come in, leaving Dave and Roger to pick up Walt as he yelled for them to hurry up and save him from the deranged raccoons swarming around his lookout post.