Lately I've had several chances to observe grown-up logic at its finest and by all the gods know to us, both still working and retired, does it reek. Honestly, it makes about as much sense as trying to stick a cube into a circular hole. Anyway, i found myself pondering on where is this world heading to and this is what came forth.
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Somewhere in a small laboratory two friends were brewing a mysterious item that they were sure would revolutionize the world. The two were Joe Johnson and Bill McRough, two brilliant wannabe inventors that were set on making the world a better place. What follows is an excerpt from a conversation that signaled the beginning of the end in the eyes of paranoid secret service agencies:
“Well, back to the drawing board!”
“But, Joe, you can't draw. You never could draw.” [The sound of somebody pacing back and forth is distinguished. This was later identified as being Binxy the Cat. The individual has never been seen, thus it is unclear if it is just a codename or an actual cat.]
And your point is?
What are you going to do with a bloody drawing board? [The character later identified as that of Bill McRough, showed signs of irritation.]
Don't know, but it's made out of wood, right? [A cat-like purr is heard in the background. Cryptography is still analyzing it. They narrowed it don to a form of ancient Egyptian. The code was described as “remarkably similar to a purring cat.]
So what?
So we make a campfire and have a night in the wild.
But Joe, there isn’t a patch of “wild” anywhere near here. [This statement has been classified as incorrect. After careful investigation, Cartography has reported that there is “a patch of wild” was found in the vicinity, carefully hidden between two country clubs and three spas. The patch was measured to be precisely 1 meter wide.]
What do you mean? Sure there is, I mean, I’ve just seen it yesterday.
Really?
Yeah, sure I did. What do you think I am, stupid?
Don’t know, Joe, but you don’t seem too bright lately. [A cry of pain is heard in the background as well as several remarks regarding ‘that damned’ cat. Code sentences such as “the damned cat scratched me again.” Clearly proves the fact that a foreign party is involved.]
What’s that supposed to mean, wise guy?
Well, Joe, I don’t want to be rude, but you’re kind of a twit.
Well, then I think you’re a Brit. [After a serious investigation it has been proven that Bill McRough is indeed a “Brit”, thus validating Johnson’s argument. Furthermore, Analysis has deducted that evidence clear points that Joe Johnson is a “twit”.]
But I am a Brit. [Mr. McRough’s voice took a tone of desperation at this point.]
So I was right, wasn’t I? [The cat-like code can be heard in the background on a higher frequency that before. Cryptography suggests a possible two-way transmitter being utilized. The transmission has been described by one member of the team as: “odd, reminds me of my cat asking for food”]
You know what, Joe? You really are a twit.
Yeah, but at least I ain’t a Brit! [At this point the situation degenerated. The agent known under the codename Binxy apparently attacked Mr. Johnson who claimed that, quotation, “that bastard wants to kill me.” This was followed by noises characteristic to a massive confrontation. Due to the wind’s strength the branch where operative Bluebird was stationed broke, the above mentioned agent taking a dive for the country. The recording was thus halted.]
The investigation was halted and the two were able to conduct their experiments unnoticed for a little while. There is evidence that agent Bluebird did recover from his fall but was sent on an extended vacation for “going cuckoo”. Meanwhile, a special government committee decided to investigate why the secret service had spent several hundred thousand dollars in order to spy on “two loons cooked up in a lab”. The remaining funding was confiscated and put to good use, the congressmen having a very relaxing trip to the
Thus ended a story of gross stupidity on the part of the geniuses tasked with the protection of the world, people that know their jobs so well that they’re scared like hell that someone might be doing the same to them. Also a story of how the folk nowadays would rather have soy based cat food rather than invest in a government that actually works and the politician who love them.
In the end, the only one who won anything out of this entire mess was Binxey. After the cat food mascot gig lost its glitter, Binxey decided to retire. Right now, he is busy at his campaign center, having announced that he will run for office. He was quoted as saying: “miau, miau, miau, miu, maiu”. An interpreter later translated it as: “this madness has lasted long enough. We could take the whole stupidity of it all, but at soy based cat food we have to draw the line. We cats have a duty towards humans, someone has to walk them, feed them and make sure they evolve into something decent like ourselves.”
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Well, this was fun to write. Hope you had fun reading it. :)
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