Knope We Can!

[polychromatic]

Parks and Recreation
Girl Scout Cookies
Leslie Knope, Ben Wyatt, the Parks Department
Written for comment_fic
Posted here.
Prompt: author's choice, author's choice, that magical time of year known as Girl Scout cookie season
1093 words

"Mayday! SOS! Batten down the hatches and prepare for impact!"

To his credit, Ben's first reaction was not to reach for the phone and dial the police for help or ask in a panic what natural disaster was about to befall them. No, time and experience with one Leslie Knope had mellowed him out to all unexplained declarations of emergency and alarm to the point where it was pretty much an expected part of his everyday life. Before Ben could even ask which alien overlord was coming for them, Leslie was already rushing around the house in a blur of blonde distress, switching off every light she could find and then piling chairs and other odds-and-ends in front of the door. "A little help here?" she grunted as she threw her weight against the couch, guiding it towards her mini barricade.

(She was building the barricade all wrong according to every zombie survival guide he'd ever read, but he wasn't going to be the one to tell her that.)

A quick peek outside the window revealed a group of Girl Scouts, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, red toy wagons piled high with boxes of what could only be...

"Girl Scout cookies!" Ben exclaimed, "Oh man, I haven't had any of their Thin Mints in ages! We've gotta get so--oof!!"

Leslie had tackled him to the floor with all the tenacity of a three hundred pound linebacker, and as his puny accountant's lungs wheezed and struggled to rei-nflate, she kept him pinned to the floor, her eyes widened to just-this-side-of crazy. "Shhh! They'll see you! They've got eyes everywhere, especially with those little binoculars of theirs. Used for observing wildlife, my ascot!"

There was a knock on the door and a chorus of sweet, innocent, girlish voices called out "Girl Scout cookies!"

"We've been compromised!" Leslie whispered frantically at Ben, "Okay, we're going to have to barrel-roll out the back window, I'll go first and you provide cover. We'll duck through the bushes and scale the Nelsons' fence and make a break for it to Ann's. Darling, sweet, beautiful Ann Perkins will take us in and provide sanctuary until this all passes and we can just go about our lives like ordinary people again! On my count, three, two--"

"Um, Leslie, these are Girl Scouts. Girls learning how to set goals, make decisions, manage money, and improve their people skills, all while running a business ethically."

"I know what the 5 skills are!" Leslie snapped, "I also know the Girl Scout motto, slogan, promise, and law by heart!"

"Right, and you live for this stuff!" he sat up and put both hands on her shoulders (multitasking by showing support and keeping Leslie from diving headfirst out the window), "The community coming together to support young girls who are learning independence and responsibility, preparing them for roles of leadership in the future. I mean, I kind of can't believe you're not a troop leader already. This has 'Leslie Knope' written all over it!"

Leslie looked at him resolutely, lips pursed and jaw set and Ben started to mentally resign himself to the deeply shameful escape ahead from a group of little girls wanting to sell cookies. But just then, Leslie's lower lip started to wobble a little bit, and before he knew what was happening Leslie was puddled on the ground moaning, "I'm a weak target and they know it!"

Well, it was better than being chased by a group of little girls through the neighbourhood. "Okay. Alright. This is progress, I guess?" he tried to sound soothing while awkwardly rubbing her back in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture.

"Every year they corner me like a trapped animal and reel me in with their talk of female empowerment, equality, leadership and personal growth," Leslie continued stammering from the floor in the fetal position, "It's... it's everything I stand for and before I know it that box of Do-si-dos have made like bunnies and multiplied to forty, and then it's like they send out a call to all their Girl Scout sistren and next thing I know I'm swarmed by young, upstart, enterprising girls all wanting to sell their cookies--!!" at which point a high-pitched keening wail escaped from Leslie's mouth and echoed through the house.

Well if that didn't scare the Girl Scouts away, Ben wasn't sure what would. "Okay, look. I get it. You're a pushover when it comes to these kinds of things, but we can do this together! We just have to be firm and stand our ground, buy only what we want to buy and nothing else. We'll have done our part in helping them on their... personal growth journey and no one will be able to begrudge us anything. Okay?"

"You don't understand what they're capable of," was Leslie's whispered warning.

"C'mon, they're just a bunch of little girls! How bad could it be?"

~~~

"Okay everyone, gather round!" Tom announced from the middle of the room, standing on table to elevate his diminutive stature, "We've just finished the count for the sixth time - no thanks to Jerry mixing up the Thin Mints and the Tagalongs..."

"Geez guys, I'm really sorry about that."

"...and I am proud to announce that we have a new record!"

A smattering of unenthusiastic applause echoed through the room.

"And the winner of the annual 'How Many Boxes Of Girl Scout Cookies Is Leslie Gonna Buy This Year?' contest is..."

"Oh man, I really hope it's us, babe. I said she'd buy, like, a gazillion! What about you?" Andy whispered to April, who just patted his hand wanly and responded, "I dunno. Like, fifteen?"

"With a guess of three hundred and sixty-five, a mere twenty boxes from being the exact number that Leslie bought... Ron Swanson! C'mon up here, buddy!" Tom hollered enthusiastically.

Brushing his moustache with satisfaction as Donna threw her hands up in the air with an exasperated "Again?!", Ron squeezed in beside the tallest stack of brightly coloured boxes. "I only have one thing to say to you people," he regarded the room with a stern eye, "If any of you take so much as one box of my Trefoils, I will come for you when you least expect it."

"Dibs on the Samoas!" Andy hollered before diving into a tower of boxes, setting off a domino-like chain reaction of collapsing cookie stacks in the Parks and Recreation office.

("Oh my god, I am so, so sorry about this," a mortified Ben Wyatt was later seen apologizing to the janitorial staff.)