1214 East Odovero Drive seven minutes later…

John pulled up and parked.

Judging by the large, black, gold-lettered sign bolted above its main entrance, the two-storied brown brick building housed a fraternity.

The pair piled out of their rescue truck and began pulling equipment cases from its side compartments.

'Π Π Π…Pi Pi Pi?' Roy silently translated and wondered what it could possibly stand for.

Gear in hand, the paramedics followed a grey walkway up to the fraternity's front entrance.

John set one of his equipment cases down on the porch's top step so he could bang on the stately abode's big wooden door. "Fire Department!"

"C'mon in! C'mon in!" a man urged, his muffled voice sounding more than a bit frantic.

John shoved the heavy portal open and was hit, full force in the face, with a wall of sickeningly-sweet-smelling smoke.

The odor was unmistakable and an old Three-Dog-Night song promptly began playing in his already slightly 'buzzing' brain.

'Open up the windows…let some air into this room…I think I'm almost chokin'…from the smell of stale perfume…'

The paramedics exchanged a couple of 'What the hell?' looks.

DeSoto shoved the front door fully open.

The firemen then emptied their hands and began opening windows.

'Open up the window, sucker…let me catch my breath.'

Their efforts were rewarded as the thick haze slowly began to disperse.

The fraternity's living space was a disaster! Pill bottles and beer bottles and empty take-out containers were strewn everywhere! There didn't seem to be a flat surface in the place that wasn't covered with some sort of 'party debris'.

The medical equipment was retrieved and carried over to a large, black leather sofa.

A scared-looking young man was sitting there, cross-legged on one of the couch's cushions, with an open book in his lap.

DeSoto dropped to a knee and began popping cases open. "Hi. I'm Roy. He's John. What's your name?"

"Joey—Joseph Waters."

"What seems to be the problem, Joey?" Roy continued and promptly began procuring a set of vitals.

"There's this…this 'thing' stuck in my jaw, man!"

John gave the guy's jaw a thorough examination but couldn't find any 'thing'. "Is it on the inside of your mouth? Or the outside?"

"Neither! It's right here under my skin, man!" he paused to point out the 'things' exact location. "Yesterday, it was over here," his pointing finger swung to the other side of his jaw. "But, today, it's over here!" the tip of his right index finger returned to the 'thing's' current locale.

The paramedics exchanged a couple a' more 'What the hell?' looks.

John rested his hands on his hips. "I thought you said it was 'stuck'…"

"It was stuck. But then…it started crawlin!"

The look that passed between the two rescue men this time went way beyond 'What the hell?'

John wasn't sure he'd heard the guy correctly. "Crawling?"

"Yeah, man! It's a worm!"

Gage couldn't quite wrap his already boggled, buzzing brain around that reply, either. "A…worm. What makes you think there's a worm crawling around in your jaw?"

"It's right here, man! Right here in this book! See?"

John obligingly took a look at the book. "According to this, this parasite is found in Africa. Have you recently been to Africa?"

Joey gave his blond head a shake.

"Then how could you possibly get this parasite?"

"Planes, man! Planes!"

Roy pursed his lips and gave his partner a 'Du-uh' look.

John gasped, partly in amusement and partly in exasperation. "Have you recently been on an International flight?"

"No."

"Any flight?"

"No."

That was a lie. Judging by all the signs and symptoms, the guy was flying right now…and rather high, at that.

Roy was rapidly running out of patience. "Are you currently taking any med—prescription medications?"

"No."

His partner picked an open pill bottle up from the coffee table and examined its contents. "Looks like methamphetamine, but the label's missing so I can't tell the dosage."

Roy locked his solemn gaze on the guy. "Did you take any of those?"

"I can't remember."

Another lie.

Roy inserted the bio-phone's call stick and contacted Rampart. Vitals and other pertinent information, regarding their African parasite patient, were relayed.

"All right, 51," Doctor Early came back. "Vitals look good. If the symptoms persist, tell Mister Waters to contact his personal physician."

"Squad 51. Copy that, Rampart."

"That's it? That's all you guys are gonna do?"

Roy relocked his gaze onto the guy. "You wanna tell us what drugs you've been taking? Besides cannabis?"

Joey gave his blond head another quick shake.

"Unless you help us, we can't help you," Roy solemnly pointed out. "That's the way it works."

The released paramedics packed up their cases and quickly took their leave.

The creeped out rescuers got their equipment stowed away and then just sat there silently in their truck, staring straight ahead.

John, who was still experiencing a bit of a 'buzz', was the first to speak. "I have this overwhelming urge to jump in the shower when we get back."

"Me, too. I think I figured out what Pi-Pi-Pi stands for. Party-Party-Party."

"That ain't no way to have fun, So-on," John replied, giving voice to the lyrics that were still stuck in his slightly buzzed brain."That ain't no way to have fun. No!" the crooner concluded with a sad shake of his head.

His buddy suppressed a grin. "You okay to drive?"

"Not yet," Gage admitted. "But I will be. Just give me a few more minutes."

Twenty-five minutes later…

John backed their rescue truck into its parking bay.

Roy had failed to clear them.

So Gage picked up their dash-mounted radio's mic' and thumbed its send button. "L.A., Squad 51. We are back in quarters."

"10-4, 51."

John replaced the mic' and the two of them began exiting the vehicle.

Their Captain had heard the truck backing in and had stepped out into the garage to greet them. Hank got a whiff of his paramedics' perfume and began fanning the sickeningly-sweet-smell away from his face. "Whew! What'd that guy have stuck in his jaw? A joint?" He saw them starting to close the truck's doors. "Leave 'em open and let it air out. The two of you had better go get showered and changed and—"

The two of them looked positively delighted and immediately disappeared.

"—I'll show the Squad 10-8 at the station," Stanley told the now empty garage.

Speaking of the station…

Kelly came out of the rec' room just then, his nose held high…tentatively sniffing the air. "Cap, why does it smell like somebody's been smokin' whacko tobacco in the Station?"

Hank winced. "Open the back overhead. Let's see if we can get a breeze blowin' through here."

Twenty minutes later…

Gage and DeSoto were seated in front of their open lockers snugging up their bootlaces.

Captain Stanley entered the room and winced again.

The distinctive odor of pot permeated the entire place.

Hank approached his showered and changed paramedics and handed them a couple of black plastic garbage sacks. "I want the two of you to put everything you were wearing in these bags. Then stick 'em out in your cars and hope to God you don't get pulled over."

"Aye aye, Cap!" the pair responded, speaking in perfect unison, and obediently began stuffing their sickeningly-sweet-smelling uniforms, boxers and socks into the plastic sacks.

"I'm gonna go put the Squad back in service."

"Aye aye, Cap!" the two replied, again in tandem.

'How do they do that?' Hank wondered on his way over to the radio.

The instant the Captain's thumb released the mic's send button, a call came in for the placed-back-in-service Squad.

Hank watched as both of his rescue guys came flying out of the locker room and up to the vehicle's passenger door.

Both of them had a hold of its handle, but John had managed to latch onto it first.

Roy stared down at the right hand directly beneath his. "The only thing you're ever gonna drive from over here," he irritatedly informed his slightly embarrassed associate, "is ME…crazy!"

'If it ain't broke, don't fix it…' Hank silently repeated, reminding himself of Stoker's sage advice. 'Guess some 'automatic workings' are just too 'conditioned' to override.' "I have another great idea. Roy, why don't you do the driving."

Both paramedics' faces filled with profound relief and they gave their Supreme Commander looks of undying gratitude before assuming their proper places.

Hank acknowledged the call and then passed his deliriously happy guys the address.

Roy ignited the Squad's engine and eased it out onto the street ramp.

"Right!" Hank heard Gage say. 'In more than one way,' their Captain mused and couldn't keep from smiling.

All was once again right with their world.

Chapter 5