January 25, 2006

• “An inconvienence is only an adventure misconsidered.” – G.K. Chesterton

  Whew! That was a close one.  Two unsuspecting civilians have just bypassed my position and I was nearly certain that they had detected my presence.  This mission was crucial: I needed the plan book.  It had everything: enemy codes, figures, diagrams.  It was do or get in trouble.  Or for dramatic effect, it was do or die.

  Hurriedly I strode down the hallway without a pause for breath. But wait! What’s this? Cameras! Everywhere! With great celerity I snatched my spare silly putty off my spy belt and hit three cameras dead on with a glob of green ooze on each.  Ah ha! As always, 21st century techincal equipment is never a match for the practical and effective uses of the slimy adhesive silly putty!  And silly putty is a lot less expensive too.

  Moving around a corner I spot the elevator.  Should I take it? No, too many risks.  Guards might be waiting on the top floor, it could get stuck, and official identification was possibly needed to operate the elevator.  I would have to take the stairs.  Fortunately, I had performed enough espionage to know the risk that accompanied taking the stairs: without the right code, an alarm would go off if I didn’t make it up the stairs before the doors closed at the bottom of the stairs.  I opened the door as wide as I could and instantaneously jolted up the stairs like a man through a gate out of hell.  I made it.

  Surreptitiously, yet with caution to time, I glided down the hallway.  Evading a few laser security system was a breeze, but I was wary in my watch for guards, who could be roaming any of the hallways at any given moment.  Down another flight of stairs led me to the corridor I sought. 

  Oh no! A guard, dressed in blue, was strolling around and operating a piece of large machinery, which appeared to be a vacuum, but I knew was really an Erad-14 (short for eradicate).  Flash! A shot of adrenaline hit my bloodstream.  The safety deposit was in view and knew I had to go for it.  He was 20 ft away but was facing towards the other end of the hallway, still pretending to vacuum. 

  Quickly, yet quietly, I moved to the safe.  Entering the code as quickly as possible made me botch the first attempt.  Time was moving faster, my heart was beating like a snare drum, but the second attempt was successful! I grabbed the code book and walked away.  Surely, I thought to myself, the guard had turned around to see an empty hallway the moment after I had turned the corner.  That’s just how these scenarios work, right? 

  How foolish! While thinking to myself I had set off the laughably simple laser security system!  It was a race to the perimeter.  Evading corners and sprinting double-time down the hallways, I feared having a scuffle with guards.    

  But, alas! I arrived unbruised at the predetermined meeting location.  Within moments my mom, er, I mean my getaway car came and took me away. 

  My calculus book was secured within my grips, and the methods for breaking enemy quizzes was within the right hands once again.

  *Sigh*  If only it were a happy ending, but in the end it was bittersweet.  The good news was I had retrieved my calculus book.  The bad news was the exact same thing.

  Ever see those signs on the doors in the school that read: “Doors will be locked at 4:30 P.M.” Well, if you look closer you will see the fine print that says “…and any intruders after that time will be shot.”

  What can I say? I’m a risk taker.  Although don’t be surprised if you are with me in class tomorrow and janitors barge in the room and drag me away.

  ….based on a true story.

  • 9:38 pm
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