Synopsis: Blair urges Jim to try bubble gum; Blair forgets to stand clear.
Rating: PG, for a bit of profanity Toni
 

I cannot believe you did this to me.

Sandburg, you're the one told me to try it.

I said chew it, man!  I did not say anything about bubbles.

No, you said, "You never chewed bubble gum as a kid, Jim?  That's impossible!  It's un-American!  It's so uncool, man!"

I never said--

And you said that any kid who hadn't tried Wild, Weird Watermelon--

Wacky, Way-out Watermelon.

Whatever--any kid who hadn't tried it had probably never actually *been* a kid.

Every kid in America has chewed gum!

I never said I didn't chew gum, Chief.  Just that bubble gum was not among my favorites.  Too much sugar.

Well, you certainly picked up on the bubble part of it fast enough.

Blair, I never meant to--

I know, I know.  But it is *never* going to come out!

Yes, it will.  I think I can get it out if you'll just hold still.

Ow!  Ow!  Jesus, Jim, watch what you're doing back there, will you? You're pulling my hair *out*.

This would be much easier if you'd just let me get the scissors--hey!

Ouch!!

Well, don't jump up like that when I've got my fingers tangled in ten years' growth back here, okay?

No scissors, Jim!  You hear me?  Don't even think about scissors.

Okay.  Fine.  Take it easy, Chief.  Sit back down.  I'll think of something.

What?  What will you think of?  It's never coming out.

Well, you could wear a hat till the gummy part grows out enough to--no, no, I see that's not an option.

That.  Is. Not.  Funny.

Face forward, please.  You know, clenching your jaw like that isn't good for your teeth.  Neither is grinding them.  You know, when your face gets all red you look a lot like--sorry, sorry.  I'm sorry.  I'm just rambling while I try to think of something.  I know there's a solution. We just have to find it.

Oh, man, I don't believe this.  My hair, man.  My hair!

Don't go postal on me, Sandburg, I said I'd think of something.  But you know, it *would* grow back.  I could just take off this little bit here and--

You *can't* cut my hair, Jim!  I just couldn't stand it!  It's too humiliating!

Humiliating?  Chief, it's a hair cut.

Forget it, man.  You don't understand.

Understand what?  Explain it to me.

Never mind.  Just forget it, will you?

There's a secret here, I can sense it.  My Sentinel secret-sensing sense is working overtime.  Tell me, Chief.  Spill it.

I think the sugar in your bloodstream is working overtime.

Tell me the secret, Sandburg.  It must be a good one, you're getting pink around the ears.  And after all, who shared with you his most shameful moment two weeks ago on the Browning stakeout?

Most shameful moment!  You told me you threw up on Mrs. Burrows in the fourth grade!

Hey, I was madly in love with Mrs. Burrows in the fourth grade.  It marked my psyche for years.

Psycho, is right--ow!  Don't *do* that.  Okay, you're right.  You're right, man.  And you did share the shame of being beaten up by Missy McDonald.

Missy McDonald did *not* beat me up, Sandburg.  Besides, I was eleven and small for my age--

Like I believe that.

--and Missy McDonald was 14 and built like Arnold Schwarzeneggar! Whew!  Still gives me chills to remember that six-foot-four red-headed Amazon bearing down on me:  "Giff me your loonch mooney!"

*Built* like Schwarzeneggar, I thought you said--hey,cut that out!

Well, if you insist....

Ha.  Ha.  *So* not funny.

Spill it, Sandburg.  Why the no-scissors rule?  Run-in with a clumsy barber?

No, nothing like that.  It's no big thing, just embarrassing, that's all.

Come on, Blair.  Share.   Share, Blair.

Oh, yeah, *way* too much sugar in your system.  All right.  Here goes--oh, brother--when I was seven, I got head lice and they shaved off my hair.

What?  That's it?  That's the secret?

You don't understand, Jim.  It was horrible.  I was so humiliated, not just for myself, but for Mom.  The doctor--Jesus, he was a mean bastard!--the doctor blamed Naomi for *letting* it happen.  Like she was a bad mother.  And shaving my head--I admit my hair was long, but so was everybody's then--well, that was just his way of getting back at the
hippie-chick-who-was-probably-a-doper and her freaky kid, you know? Man, it was awful.  I mean, I'm always the new kid in every town we hit, and now I'm the new *bald* kid. . . . Jim?  Hey, don't give up on me now, man.

I'm not giving up.  It's just--that was a terrible thing to do to a kid.

Don't I know it.  Man, I am so tired.  I can't believe it's nearly midnight.  What are we going to--oh, sorry for the yawn--what are we going to do about this damn gum?

Chief, I'll talk to the downstairs neighbors.  With twin two-year-olds they gotta have experience with this kind of thing, right?  You lay your head on the table--here's a dishtowel for a pillow--and think calm thoughts.  I'll be right back.

Okay, man, but--oh!  I'm so sleepy!--but, Jim, I'm really startin' to get worried here.

It'll be fine, Chief.  Really.  Just rest your curly brown head for a minute and let me deal.

* * * *

Sandburg?  Sandburg?  Hey, Chief, wake up.  You'll get a crick in your neck if you sleep like that much longer.

What?  Ack!  Too late.  Oohhh, let me stretch--hey!  My hair's soaking wet.... and what's that smell?  Olive oil?  My god, there's no gum! Jim, man, you did it!  You got it out!

Every last watermelon-y bit.  Just took some ice, a little olive oil, and a lot of patience.  Oof, don't punch me like that right now--oh, brother, I'm stiff.

Ice and olive oil?  Wait a minute, are you okay?  You look kinda gray. What time is it?  Three-thirty?  In the morning!?  You've been working on this for over three hours!

Oh, I gotta stand up and stretch.  Ah, yeah!  That feels better. Footnote for your research, kid:  three hours of Sentinel vision makes Jim cross-eyed.

Three hours of--!  Jim, that's nuts!  That length of time, you coulda zoned, man.  You coulda--

I'm fine, Sandburg.  Just a headache...and a stiff neck...and a backache.  Did I mention the headache?  Aaahhh, another good stretch. I'll be fine.  *I* got your hair into this mess--or this mess into your hair--so *I* had to get it out, right?  What's wrong?  Why're you looking at me like that?

I'm just....I'm speechless.

As a friend of mine once said:  Like I believe that.

No, I mean it, Jim.  I can't believe you spent three hours getting gum out of my hair.  Feels like you went over every single strand.

It was important, right?

Yeah, sure, but--

But me no buts, Chief.  I'm bushed; time to hit the hay.

Sure, okay.  But I just....Thanks, Jim.

Any time, Chief.  Or, make that, never again, Chief.

Oh, definitely.  No more Wacky, Way-out Watermelon for you, big guy.

No way.  But you know, Sandburg, I did see something called Groovy, Growlin' Grape--put that down!  Place the pepper mill on the table and step slowly back.  And go wash your hair, buddy.  You look like a....well, I don't know exactly what you look like, but you sure look strange.  Good night, Chief.

'Night, Jim.  And, Jim?

Yeah?

I cannot believe you did that for me.

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