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13+ | | A selection of Short Stories taken from the other life of Acme | | by: Acme ![View acme's Portfolio. [Offline / Private]](http://imgs.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/costumicons/ps-icon-eyes3-40.gif "View acme's Portfolio. [Offline / Private]") ![Email User: acme [Offline / Private]](http://imgs.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/mail-off.gif "Email User: acme [Offline / Private]") | Avg Rating:   (8) |
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| Item Size: 12 Entries
Created: 8:47am on 02-25-2008
Modified: 5:36pm on 08-02-2009 | |
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Entry #569877, added on 02-25-08 @ 9:05 am EST.
[Entry Access Restriction] None.
Title:
UN Missile Inspectors
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I was overseeing several of the Henchmen make repairs to #1 missile silo, when Phillip raised the alarm. It seemed some sort of vessel was approaching the island. Well, It would never do for any would be foreign power to find us napping, so I told the lads to sound a few klaxons, flash a few red warning lights, and jog around the dock with their Kalashnikovs.
As the vessel became more apparent, I let them take a tea break. Honestly, what self respecting spy would take on the mighty Acme with a Windsurfing board? There just doesn't seem to be any effort, these days.
I digress. My first thought was of Hamish Bonde, the well known British Agent, however, the use of an environmentally sound piece of transport didn't fit his profile. Next, I thought of my beloved (ex) girlfriend, Kittykat; but she had last been seen 'flicking the vickies' at a row of Henchmen, before diving of the prow of my cruiser 'The Minty'
I carried on diligently checking the conversion units on the atomic power lines with Sergi (lovely Russian scientist - poofy, snowy hair in excellent condition). As dusk was setting on my island lair, The Clown came into my study, looking flushed and excited (quite a challenge for someone in full white make-up and beeper nose).
"It's the UN, Acme!" her usually slow southern drawl, made harsh with agitation, "Gary Whichwebb, of the UN Health and Safety Executive!"
"- and?" I hazarded. The Clown always had a way of assuming I knew a lot more about current affairs than I did.
"And, he's got a sanction to check the missile silos for Weapons of Mass Destruction"
I couldn't help but break into a chortle. Striding around the teak desk, I gave her new ginger wig a playful ruffle.
"Silly Clown!" I said. "He'll never find them. They're hidden under a couple of fake volcanoes! - the man would have to be a genius (or own a geiger-counter) to locate them."
Honestly, for someone who invented MENSA, there was a definite reason why I was General Leader In Charge of the Planet.
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