Wednesday, January 9, 2013

A Spy Walks Into a Fast Food Joint

     I've got nothing important to say today. Enjoy this bit of randomness I wrote because I felt like it. 

     Nagib strode confidently into the fast food restaurant that he didn’t bother to get the name of. The name was irrelevant. The fact that he was meeting at a fast food restaurant at all was secret code enough. Forget lasers and man-eating land sharks, Nagib’s greatest fear was that if he survived his time as a ultra-secret spy he would forever associate the smell of fresh french fries with danger.

Of course, he looked out of place in his expensive suit and sunglasses as he walked around the restaurant. There was another guy in a tie, but he was obviously some kind of intern getting food for an office. A lot of food. Poor guy. He wanted to pat him on the back and tell him to buck up but he figured that this guy would figure it out eventually. He looked like a smart kid. There were families sitting down to eat, a few people in line that obviously had no idea what to order despite the fact that they had eaten there for years... but he was able to walk right past them unnoticed. The one thing he learned was the fact that people didn’t notice what they didn’t want to notice. They didn’t notice a tall, suave, dark-skinned man in a nice suit because they didn’t want to notice one. It simply didn’t register that he was part of an organization that saved the world on a daily basis, because those things just existed in movies.

He had just finished his latest mission - he had to stop a military coup in France - and he was ready to relax. But he got an urgent message that it was time to meet. Such was the life of the man that worked for an organization that was so secret that it fell under the jurisdiction of only the Vice President, secretly the most powerful man in the country. Everything about the organization was secret. No one would ever find out about the work that he did. That didn’t bother him. He was happy to do it. Not many people would have the skills.

He didn't have to scan the restaurant to know where he needed to sit, it was always the booth farthest away from the cash register, but closest to the ball pit. It was “reserved” for Nagib and his organization. On days that they weren’t meeting, there was a mysterious spill or a meal there that no one wanted to move. Things miraculously moved when it came time for them to meet.

Nagib was to meet the head of his organization, a woman only known as Liberty. The running joke was that she was the original model for the Statue of Liberty, however the last person to say that joke out loud was given a three year assignment in the middle of a country that technically did not exist. He had only met her once. Most of the time agents were given assignments via special message by the engineering department that kept trying to outdo each other. Once he had been given an official assignment in a dream. To get Liberty out of her secret undisclosed location (That everyone knew was under the Washington Monument, but everyone pretended not to know) things had to be bad.

When he got there, he found that the side of the booth that faced the ball pit contained a petite older woman with a large pink hat wedged in between two large men in black suits. He was about to ask them their names when he heard the man on the left mutter “Mr. Left” and the man on the right muttered “Mr. Right.” 

As Nagib sat down, Liberty cut a piece of hamburger with a knife and slowly brought it to her lips with a fork. She chewed for what seemed like an eternity as Nagib sat, watching her.

“Hello, Mr. Nagib,” She finally said, wiping the corner of her lip with a cloth napkin, “I am glad to see you survived Canada.”

“Yes, Canada,” Nagib said wistfully. He did just barely make it alive out of that one, but that was a few years ago, “It’s a shame that no one will ever know that the Canadians are America’s greatest enemy...”

“Unfortunately, Dr. Armaggedonus survived.”

“That’s impossible!” Nagib slammed his hand down on the table, “I threw him into that pit personally.

“Don’t take it personally Nagib,” Liberty said, using her fork to spear a french fry, “You know that he has backup plans to his backup plans. The lava pit probably had a false bottom, and the pack of wolves you set loose on him were probably trained.”

“Where is he now?”

“Right here, in Washington, DC. Are you familiar with Globotex Corporation?”

Nagib raised his eyebrow. He thought he had heard something on the radio on his way in this morning, but they were cut off. Why does he listen to that show? “I believe I am vaguely familiar with that.”

“Well, I obviously mentioned it because he is operating out of there.”

“What’s his plan?” Last time Nagib tangled with Dr. Armaggedonus he was plotting to kidnap the Queen of England during her Canadian visit. He had an army of robots and was going to work with Canada’s Secret Army. Once she was ransomed, he was going to fund their secret war against America. No one was expected to survive.

“We don’t know,” she said, “That’s what we need you for. We do know that whatever is going on, it will be going down soon.”

“So this is a standard infiltrate and disable from within, then,” Nagib reached for a french fry, but Mr. Left glared at him... well, glared even more intently than before. He pulled his hand back.

“I don’t care how you do it, Nagib. You’re the spy.” At that, Nagib looked around to see if anyone had heard them. He didn’t know why he did, no one really cared. A perverse part of him enjoyed having this giant secret that people were actively oblivious to.

“Well, then. I guess it’s time I get started.”

“Oh, Nagib,” Liberty stopped him.


“Grab me some fresh fries on your way out, these have gone cold.”

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