Increase the pressure, get results faster. If it works in cop shows, surely it'll work on your food.

"WHO IS SHE!" Hinkle yelled at the broccoli. "WHAT'S HER NAME?"

MIller clucked his tongue. "Broccoli, my partner, he's nuts, you know? Look, tell me. Tell me and I'll get you out of there."

The broccoli had nothing to say.

Hinkle growled. "STOP PLAYING AROUND, BROCCOLI! I'LL DO IT! I'LL PUSH THAT INDICATOR ROD ALL THE WAY UP TO THE HIGHEST, BLUEST NUMBER!"

Miller leaned in. "Broccoli, that Fissler 6.4 Qt. Pressure Cooker can't be comfortable! I know it, and I'm on your side! C'mon, just give me something, something I can take back. If I can show my boss something, he'll side with me. He knows my partner's a loose cannon. Just give me a reason, show you're on my side."

"I'M MAKING CHEESE SAUCE!" bellowed Hinkle. Miller shrugged.

"I don't have a lot of time, broccoli. This Fissler 6.4 Qt. Pressure Cooker is dishwasher safe, and my partner knows it. It'll wash away all the evidence, look like we weren't even cooking. If you don't soften, my hands are tied. I'll have to just walk away. I don't want to, broccoli. But what choice do I have? What choice are you giving me?"

"TIME TO EAT!" shrieked Hinkle. Miller looked at the plate as his partner took the big easy-grip handles and poured out their dinner. Hinkle laughed.

"Perfectly cooked, right, partner?"

"You did the right thing, broccoli," Miller said, poking at the stalk. "I knew you were tender inside. C'mon, let's get you some condiments and sign this confession."

Hinkle laughed as he took his first bite. "Still got it, huh, good cop?"

Miller nodded. "Sharp as ever, bad cop."

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