Hogan's Heroes and Streets of San Francisco belong to CBS and others. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story is a follow-up to "Mistaken Identity."


What a vacation it had been! First, a mistaken attempt to arrest a Five-O detective – Haseejian would never live that one down – then, working with Five-O on a major case; and finally, a few well-deserved days of R and R. He had one more weekend off and Norm Haseejian was going to make the best of it! He mentally checked off the list: surfing with Kono; a picnic at Ala Moana Park with Chin's family; sailing with Steve and Danny . . . but this morning, breakfast at Le Beau's with new friends Andrew Carter and Peter Newkirk. Newkirk was waiting for him, but where was Carter?

"Bonjour, mes amis," master chef Louis LeBeau greeted his friends. "Voulez-vous du café? It's the best Kona, nice and strong."

Haseejian held out his cup. Nothing better than a good cup of coffee, the stronger the better! I really need to get some of this for the office.

"Where is Carter?" the little Frenchman questioned. "I thought he was joining you for breakfast. I made some special mango-pineapple muffins just for you."

The mystery of their missing friend was solved as Carter sauntered up. Just one problem: he wasn't alone. Firmly perched on his shoulder was a bird, a very big white bird who announced his presence with a loud "Achtung! A-lo-o-o-ha! Want cracker!"

A startled Haseejian pulled back in surprise. What was Carter, unassuming Andrew Carter, doing with a monstrous parrot? The bird eyed him with suspicious curiosity, raising and lowering his impressive crest in agitated manner.

"What is this man doing here?" the fowl squawked. He wanted an answer. New humans had to be properly introduced to his feathered majesty. And they'd better offer treats! This, this person didn't look to have the proper manners, not at all. Toby, his dignity offended, flounced over to Haseejian. Staring squarely at the nervous detective, he announced. "Heads will roll! Want donut! Gimme!" Haseejian pulled back as the bird proceeded to dip his beak in the freshly-poured coffee. The parrot turned, bowed to LeBeau, and muttered "Yum!"

The now thoroughly confused – and more than slightly upset – cop looked at his friends. Newkirk was having difficulty restraining his laughter; LeBeau quickly placed a muffin in front of his feathered guest; and Carter? Andrew Carter was scarlet with embarrassment. "Toby!" he scolded the big cockatoo, "Where are your manners?" The bird ignored his human companion, his supposedly well-trained human companion, as he focused all his attention on the delicious treat he was now devouring.

Haseejian took the opportunity to reach for his coffee. Big mistake! Toby lunged and administered a sharp nip, No one, but no one, interfered with a cockatoo's breakfast! This new human obviously needed training and who better to give it than a cockatoo! He glared at the cop. Haseejian relinquished his coffee.

"He bit me!" Haseejian groaned, popping his injured finger into his mouth. Toby resumed eating.

"Andrew," Newkirk inquired, "Just out of curiosity, why in the world did you bring Toby?"

"He wanted to come," the embarrassed USAF officer answered, blushing to the roots of his grey-blond hair. "Did he hurt you, Norm? I've got a first aid kit in my car. I can even stitch your finger up if you need it." Carter, reduced to the occasionally bumbling bomb expert of Stalag 13, rambled on.

Haseejian shook his head and laughed, "I was looking forward to breakfast, not to being mauled by a cockatoo! Especially a petty thief!"

A contrite Toby bowed to the cop. "I sorry." Then, a glint of mischief sparkling in his black eyes, "Let's eat!"