Tales of the Buy More

A/N: A series of one-shots chronicling the misadventures of the Buy More. Random wackiness. Nothing will be sacred here! You've been warned!

This series will serve two purposes. To get me back in the habit of writing again, and hopefully, your enjoyment. Or not. You decide!

I have been trying to get a more serious story off the ground, but so far haven't been successful. Direction is the problem, not writer's bloc. In the meantime, I'll use Tales of the Buy More for leisure writing. Just a little project to let my hair down (what's left of it) and have fun. Hopefully, you, the reader, will enjoy it.

The idea is to give the whole Buy More crew a little love, as well as the core characters of Chuck. Bottom line, the goal here is to stimulate laughter...or possibly an eye-roll, face-palm, gasp, etc, etc. I'll even throw in some 'awww' for those in touch with their lady feelings...Casey approved.

Reviews are always welcome. I'm not a mind-reader, and a good critique is the best way an author gauges reader satisfaction (or the lack thereof). So, bring 'em on! Good, bad, or WTH were you thinking? All kidding aside, if only one person enjoyed any of my stories, it was worth the effort.

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck!

Chapter 1: Mystery Crisper

"Morgan doesn't have a gag reflect." Said Chuck, watching in shock as Morgan downed his third helping of God-knows-what from the break room refrigerator.

"He's like a human trash compactor." Casey said with a disgusted grunt.

Casey wouldn't admit it, but he found the shenanigans of "Buymoria" to be rather amusing. He had seen the same thing among fellow Marines on deployment. Anything to pass the time during long periods of boredom was always welcome.

Chuck pointed at his friend, furrowing his brow in deep thought. "He once ate the entire contents of his mom's refrigerator for 20 bucks."

Casey shook his head. "Where the hell does he put it? My shoes weigh more than that idiot."

Casey pointed at Jeff. "When's Twiddle Dumb pounding that box of Twinkies?"

"That's next. He could die, you know?" Chuck said, with much levity injected in his tone.

Casey grunted in understanding. "Nah, he'll live. Idiot spends his lunch breaks sniffing exhaust fumes and women's panties in that piece of shit he calls a van. More like a hotel on wheels for child molesters. You can't kill any brain cells when you didn't have any to begin with. Waste of time, if you ask me."

Chuck furrowed a confused brow. "Wait...where does Jeff find women's panties?"

"Strip club down on 5th Street. While some pay for lap dances, that dumbass pays for panties." Casey said, grunting amused.

Chuck winced. "I'm scarred for life. Just had to ask, didn't I?"

Casey sighed heavily. "Bartowski, don't take this the wrong way, but how does someone with your IQ tolerate this crap day in and day out? I would have already gone clinically insane."

Chuck grinned. "Tell me you're not entertained right now."

Chuck turned his head as the crowd cheered, Morgan held up the spoon and empty Tupperware container triumphantly.

"Suppose I am." Casey shrugged, shaking his head at how ridiculous this was.

Casey caught a whiff of a rather grotesque smell from Morgan's mouth as he cheered. Casey felt the Hot Pocket he had for lunch do back-flips in his stomach. "Awww hell! He'll need a HazMat team to brush his damn teeth!"

Chuck folded his arms, and smiled. "You know, I think this is the most fun I've seen you have since joining the Buy More."

Casey grunted angrily. "Tell Walker, and you'll be the one munching on mystery crisper!"

Chuck held up his hands defensively. "Your secret is safe with me, big guy."

Casey's eyes lit up with glee as Jeff held a box of Twinkies over his head. He rubbed his hands in delight. "50 bucks says he passes out after half the box."

Chuck grinned mischeviously. He had seen Jeff down two boxes. What Casey didn't know, wouldn't hurt him. "You're on."

Casey watched in amazement as Jeff wolfed down Twinkie after Twinkie. When he noticed Jeff approaching the half-way point, he started to worry. The grin on Chuck's face told him all he needed to know.

Casey subtly removed a tranq gun disquised as a pen from his back pocket, and fired a tranq dart into Jeff's leg. Jeff swayed, then fell face first to the floor, eliciting groans from the crowd.

Morgan blurted out. "Timberrrr!"

Chuck's jaws dropped. "How...did…"

Casey shrugged. "Some can't hold their liquor. Jeff can't hold his Twinkies."

Chuck rolled his eyes. Ever a man of his word, he removed $50 from his wallet, and handed it to Casey. "Guess not. Don't spend it all in one place."

Casey grinned. "Pleasure doing business with you, Bartowski. I'm not unreasonable. I'll subtract 50 bucks from what you owe me for the Crown Vic."

Chuck sighed. "That's not fair. It was either us, or your car. Us, is more important, wouldn't you agree?"

Casey muttered. "I loved that car."

Chuck shook his head and returned to work. Casey acted like he was helping Jeff, and removed the dart from Jeff's leg. He rolled him over so he wouldn't choke on his own vomit.

Casey slapped Jeff across the cheeks a couple of times. "Always wanted to do that. Enjoy the hangover, numb nuts."

Casey headed toward the locker room, and sighed when he saw Sarah leaning against the secret entrance to Castle, hands on hips, tapping her foot. Casey knew he had been caught red-handed.

Sarah seethed. "That was low, Casey!"

Casey rolled his eyes and handed Sarah the money. "I was planning on giving it back. Just having a little fun."

Sarah snatched the money from Casey's hands. "Do you want to be the one explaining why you blew your cover over a stupid bet? Beckman would assign you to Antarctica, if you're lucky."

Casey grunted annoyed.

Sarah stopped at the door, speaking over her shoulder. "In exchange for my silence, I want a little privacy with Chuck tonight. No bad guys, no cover, and no annoying friends. I need Chuck's opinion on an article of clothing from Victoria's Secret I have been saving for Chuck's eyes only. Today is Chuck's birthday, and he can unwrap me."

Sarah's smile faded to a deadly scowl. "I have needs! Beckman and the CIA can take protocol, and shove it straight up their asses! Chuck is my man! This 'will they, won't they' horse crap ends tonight, one way or the other!"

Casey scowled. "Fine."

Like flipping a switch, Sarah's smile returned. "Good. By the way, I agree with your assessment. Morgan is a human trash compactor."

Sarah turned, making eye contact with Casey. "Your mission is to keep Morgan away from Chuck's apartment. Ellie and Awesome are pulling double shifts. I don't want any interruptions. Got it?"

Casey nodded. "Done. Anything else on the blackmail list, while we're at it?"

Sarah shrugged. "Nope. That'll do."

Sarah removed a knife from behind her back, pointing the blade at Casey. "If anyone…and I mean anyone, crashes my date with Chuck tonight, the unlucky sonofabitch will be removing this from their scrotum!"

Sarah took out her phone, snapped her best sexy selfie, and sent it to Chuck before skipping back to Castle's entrance.

Casey smiled sadistically. "You didn't say how to keep the idiot away."

Sarah popped her head through the entrance. "Whatever you're thinking, Morgan lives. I don't want Chuck upset."

Sarah disappeared. Casey grunted angrily, then smiled. "Don't worry. He'll live."

"Lots of people live with broken limbs."