Spy's Shadow
The cold hospital door closed solidly behind the exiting guard. The Queen, pausing briefly to make sure she was indeed alone, fumbled once again through her Royal Handbag. Somewhere amid the debris of kleenex, lotto tickets, and Freedent wrappers, she found her target. Withdrawing her gloved hand, clutching the tiny red cube, the Queen cleared her throat and prepared her thoughts.
In her hand was a tiny piece of technology Q had prepared especially for her. A phone of some kind. To operate it required the push of only one button. The Queen had issued an edict strictly forbidding the production of any Royal Gadgets with multi-function displays following a rather embarassing incident in '97. The details of exactly what happened are sketchy, due to subsequent cover up attempts, but, word has it that the whole incident was triggered by an extremely violent form of "temporary hypnosis" brought on by a flashing "12:00" on the Royal VCR.
"Hello, X, yes, this is Wynzrgrl. Listen up. I'm afraid it's worse than I thought. Sir Mick is being compromised by his attachment to that horrid cowgirl yank. He's collecting her teacups now! I need you to follow him more closely and make sure he doesn't do anything insipid that might keep him from "taking care" of my little problem. I know I can count on you, X. I'm just not so sure about him. This will be a test. I hope he passes. It would be a shame to lose him like we did Sir Elton. But, you must admit, those people were rude, vile, pigs. Anyway, remember, you must not be spotted. It could ruin everything. I want him to trust me. Continue to leave him clues, as we discussed before, but he must never suspect their source."
Leaning back into the stack of Royal Down Pillows, the Queen allows a pleased smile of satisfaction, before quickly remembering herself. She looks around the room, bored, for something to entertain her. A movie perhaps? Oh, how she does love a good Chris Farley film on a rainy evening. But is there even a DVD player in this room? Yes, there is, over there.........
<<12:00>>
<<12:00>>
<<12:00>>
In her hand was a tiny piece of technology Q had prepared especially for her. A phone of some kind. To operate it required the push of only one button. The Queen had issued an edict strictly forbidding the production of any Royal Gadgets with multi-function displays following a rather embarassing incident in '97. The details of exactly what happened are sketchy, due to subsequent cover up attempts, but, word has it that the whole incident was triggered by an extremely violent form of "temporary hypnosis" brought on by a flashing "12:00" on the Royal VCR.
"Hello, X, yes, this is Wynzrgrl. Listen up. I'm afraid it's worse than I thought. Sir Mick is being compromised by his attachment to that horrid cowgirl yank. He's collecting her teacups now! I need you to follow him more closely and make sure he doesn't do anything insipid that might keep him from "taking care" of my little problem. I know I can count on you, X. I'm just not so sure about him. This will be a test. I hope he passes. It would be a shame to lose him like we did Sir Elton. But, you must admit, those people were rude, vile, pigs. Anyway, remember, you must not be spotted. It could ruin everything. I want him to trust me. Continue to leave him clues, as we discussed before, but he must never suspect their source."
Leaning back into the stack of Royal Down Pillows, the Queen allows a pleased smile of satisfaction, before quickly remembering herself. She looks around the room, bored, for something to entertain her. A movie perhaps? Oh, how she does love a good Chris Farley film on a rainy evening. But is there even a DVD player in this room? Yes, there is, over there.........
<<12:00>>
<<12:00>>
<<12:00>>
posted by flippnsweet | 10:04 AM
2 Comments:
I am on the edge of my banana tree wondering what the queen does when hypnotized.
http://kasupportgroup.blogspot.com/
;)
::Almost smothers from laffin at this one:::
Sweet, yer killin' me. I'm right there with ya Monkey. OK ::gets to *weaving the story forward*::
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