Sirens and Sprinkles

Maple Crazed

As soon as Dave set down the box of doughnuts, Roger threw open the lid and examined them as if they were precious jewels. "No lemon filled ones." He nodded. "Good. You can live."

Walt sighed. "What did lemons ever do to you? You act like they assaulted your dog and sent your mom on a one way trip to Neptune."

"They might as well have. They're the devil's fruit!" He thrust out a surprisingly well-manicured finger and waggled it at Walt. "Mark my words, they're out to ruin every last dish they're in."

"Sure." Walt took a big bite out of a raspberry doughnut, squirting bright red jelly across his face. "Nice picks, Dave."

"Thanks." He eyed the maple bacon doughnut, briefly struggling with buyer's remorse at the sight of the crumbles topping the fried dough before shrugging and digging in. He moaned in ecstasy as the bacon's saltiness mingled with the sweet maple.

"Maybe we should leave you alone with that doughnut for a while." Roger's larger than average stomach shook as he laughed. "Let me know when you have kids. I'd love to meet them, or should I say eat them!"

"Just don't leave me with the whole box, or I won't fit in the truck! Which reminds me," Dave emptied the bag of Dunkers into the box, "I got you guys something extra."

"Aw, Dave, you shouldn't have." Roger popped one into his mouth, only for his lips to pucker. "You really shouldn't have. Why the heck is this so tart?"

"That must be one of the passion fruit ones."

"I love the fruity ones," Walt said as he grabbed a handful. "They make me feel a bit less guilty about eating so many. Not that I need to feel guilty of course." He flexed his arms to show the bulging muscles he'd built by going to the gym so often Roger liked to joke that he needed to quit hitting it or else it would call the police.

No amount of fruit filling would make Dave feel any less guilty after the scrumptious grease bomb he had devoured, but that didn't stop him from helping himself to a second, chocolate doughnut. A jealous bark interrupted him as he took his second bite. "This isn't for you, Polka."

Walt grinned. "Watch this." He whistled. The Dalmatian trotted over to him and wagged her tail. She licked her lips as she eyed the peanut butter Dunker he raised over his head. "Okay, girl, dance!"

Her nails clicked against the station's concrete floor as she got onto her hind legs and tottered around in circles. She waved her paws up and down as her audience gave her a round of applause.

"How long did it take for you to teach her that?" Dave asked as Walt tossed her the promised treat.

"Only a couple weeks. She's a clever girl. Sometimes, I even catch her dancing all by herself."

"Let me guess," Roger said, "she's especially fond of any song with a tuba in it."

"Nope. She's more of a death metal fan actually." He chuckled at the disbelieving stares he received. "Of course she likes polka music! Who doesn't?"

"Anyone under the age of fifty." Roger licked specks of sugar off his fingers. "So, Dave, what made you decide to treat us to Dunkers? Trying to bribe us? Just because you brought these doesn't mean we're letting you get out of washing the truck."

There was no way he'd admit to wanting to make sure they liked him. "They just looked delicious. I still can't believe I got them for free."

His coworkers leaned forward. "You seriously got these for free?" Walt asked.

Roger snorted. "Wow, Dylan must've really taken pity on you. What did you tell them we've been making you do, put out fires with your pants?"

"Nothing like that." Dave rubbed the back of his neck. "I think they just wanted to do something nice for me since I was kinda nervous. I really didn't want to screw up my first doughnut run."

Walt clapped him on the back. "You never need to worry about ruining free doughnuts. Well, some people might whine if you bring back lemon filled, but that's their problem."

"Newbie or not, I will not stand for him defiling my dessert with that sinful citrus!" A devilish grin spread across Roger's face, exposing a missing front tooth in his otherwise charity calendar worthy face (or so he often told Walt, who never failed to say he was shocked the World Wildlife Fund was desperate enough to slap his face on a calendar). "Hey, if just being nervous made them pity you that much, imagine what me tagging along to roast the heck out of you will do."

Walt smirked. "Yeah, who wouldn't pity someone who's forced to hang out with you all day?"

"As long as it gets me more doughnuts, I can't complain." He turned to Dave with a twinkle in his eye. "You in?"

"Who am I to get in the way of more doughnuts?" Dave patted his stomach and let out a long, greasy belch. "I think I'll pass on the maple bacon doughnut next time though. I feel like enough of a pig without eating one."