Sergeant ‘Barry' Barrows and Sergeant Joe Hendriks exchanged smiles. Someone was in the men's room throwing up his last meal and the rest of his guts too by the sound of things.
“Who is it this time?”
“The blond kid; what's his name?”
“Colby?”
“No, the other one.”
“ Hutchinson ?”
“Yes, that's the one. You know you can almost feel sorry for them, can't you?”
“I don't know; if they aren't capable of driving like that they are going to have to learn to take being the passenger.”
“Where did he learn to drive like that anyway?”
“ Blaine says he did time in ‘ Nam .”
“They drive like that in the jungle?”
“Depends what you mean by the jungle. Oh yea, and he's Al Kauffman's nephew.”
“Oh right, like you said, he learned to drive in the jungle.”
“What about the blond kid?”
“He either learned to drive on a farm or in daddy's car on private roads.”
Barrows looked at the score sheet in his hand. “I'd go for the farm. Anything faster than a tractor and he's out of his depth.”
“Shame Starsky' graduates this month – it would be fun to partner them.”
“No, they wouldn't last five minutes together!”