Disclaimer: The Sentinel is a Pet Fly Production and all related characters belong to those who hold legal copyright.

Author's Notes: Yes, I have a juice machine. Such a total Blair-toy. Went a little nuts with it and this happened.


OJ
by
Besterette

Besterette@aol.com

 

Pleasantly tired, hot, sweaty and thirsty, Jim Ellison dropped his gym bag under the coat rack and walked into the kitchen. He hadn't showered at the gym; even with his sense of smell dialed down, there was a lingering stench of mildew buried under chemical cleansers that always drove him to his own, pristine bathroom. But before he hit the shower...

He rummaged through the fridge, past the soda cans and beer bottles, and milk and mineral water. They needed eggs again, he noticed. A package of boneless, skinless chicken breasts thawing on the bottom shelf and a bag of stir-fry vegetables one shelf up told him what Sandburg planned for dinner. He took out a Tupperware pitcher filled with bright orange liquid, lifted the lid, and sniffed. Carrot juice. He put it back and pulled out the other pitcher. Carrot and celery. The two beverage bottles were also filled. He took out the bright orange one and unscrewed the cap. Carrot and... apple. He sighed, twisted the cap back on and checked the one with the pale orange fluid. A couple of cautious sniffs and he finally identified it. Cantaloupe.

Jim sighed, put the cantaloupe juice back and pulled out the pitcher of plain carrot juice again, got a glass out of the cupboard and poured himself some, drank it down, and poured another small glass. It was thick and cold and pretty good. He put the pitcher back and rinsed out the glass. Then glanced at the juice machine on the counter.

"Next time I tell Sandburg we need more orange juice, I'm going to have to be more specific."

~ End ~


E-Mail Besterette at Besterette@aol.com
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Page last updated 8/15/03.