“I’m tellin’ you, Johnny, I didn’t put anything funky in the coffee!”

“But, Roy, you had to have.”

“And I’m tellin’ YOU that I DIDN’T!” Thoroughly agitated, Roy resisted the urge to bang the coffee pot down on the burner.

“But it tastes…different.”

“Tastes the same to me,” muttered Roy, sipping again from his own cup.

Gage gazed distastefully at his own cup before tentatively taking another, very small, sip. He grimaced. “How can you not taste it?”

DeSoto looked at his partner and shook his head. “You’re not right in the head,” he deadpanned.

“Okay, fine. Don’t believe me. But there’s something different about this coffee.”

At that moment, Marco Lopez sauntered into the station kitchen. “Hey, what’s all the shouting about?”

Johnny thrust his cup at the firefighter. “Taste this.”

With a wrinkled brow and suspicious look, Lopez took a sip from the proffered cup.

“Yeah, so? It’s coffee.”

“It doesn’t taste funny to you?” queried Johnny glumly.

“No, it tastes like our everyday station house coffee to me. Why? What’d you do to it?”

“I didn’t do anything to it!” Gage exclaimed indignantly. “Roy was the one who made it. Ask him what HE did to it.”

Before Marco could ask, Roy held up a hand. “I didn’t do anything to it. I made the coffee the way I do every single time. I took this bag of coffee…” he paused and picked up the small green bag of coffee sitting on the counter, “…measured it out, measured the water…”

Whistling, Chet Kelly entered the kitchen and his face lit up when he spied his co-workers. “Hey, far out! You made civet coffee using my bag of special grind!” He pointed to the small green bag.

“Civet coffee?” the trio enquired simultaneously.

Roy narrowed his gaze at Chet. “What is it?”

“It’s coffee.” Kelly said earnestly.

“Uh…well…it’s expensive…”

“And?” Gage growled as he took a step toward Chet.

“And…uhhh…” Chet’s head swiveled as he looked at his co-workers. “I’ve heard it’s strong and rich and full-bodied…”

“CHET!” Roy, John, and Marco all growled at once.

“Uhh…and it may or may not be coffee made from beans that have been eaten and…uh…defecated by a civet cat…”

“Well…only if you want to get technical about it…”

“Technical?” Gage huffed out an annoyed breath. “Technical?” He placed a hand on his stomach. “I feel sick.”

“C’mon, guys,” Kelly spread his hands in a placating manner. “You liked it, right? It tasted good. I mean, before you knew…”

The three scowls sent his way had Chet backpedaling and preparing to dash out of the kitchen. “Okay, okay. Geez, you guys just don’t appreciate the finer things in life…”

Once he was gone, Roy dumped the coffee down the drain and rinsed the pot. “Should I make a fresh pot with…uh…normal grounds?” he queried with a raised eyebrow.

Johnny put his cup in the sink and rubbed his stomach. “No, no. I think…I think a glass of milk sounds good about now.”

Marco nodded. “Yeah, milk. Sounds good to me too.”

Roy shrugged and grabbed three glasses from the cupboard. “Milk it is.”