The Incontinence Caper - 15 Chapters

Okay, gang, here's my plan:

1) On work days, peruse picture prompt in AM. On weekends, same plan - just start later!

2) While daydreaming, ahem, I mean working my rear off all day and into evening at my job, mentally try to tie that day's prompt into prior one, and make a smooth running story (aka serial) over 15 installments.

3) I can think about this all I want, but I am not allowed to make any notes or otherwise rough drafts.

4) I am going to use a stopwatch and actually stop at 15 minutes, regardless of how embarassing the (un)finished product is. (This might actually be the best part)!

5) Watch goes on after I type in the entry information; stops when I see it @ 15 minutes. Actual typing time recorded at bottom of entry (Will stop @ 15 min. after completing a sentence, so might run over a tad).

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Prompt 1: (message title: June 3 - Waiting)
Photo of woman in group of people waiting (outside; nice weather) possibly for entry or admission to something.


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Chapter One: Security Leak

By Indelibleink

What is with this freaking line, anyway? I've been here for about forty-five minutes and I think it's moved about two feet!

Jo threw the irritating, dangling scarf defiantly back across her shoulder and let out a sigh. She dug around in her bag for her compact and gave herself a quick check.

Damn, I'm hot!

She slammed the compact shut. Yeah, hot for sure: Jo had definitely overdressed for this audition today, as the temperature was approaching 80 degrees and she was wearing clothing for temperatures about 30 degrees cooler.

On the other hand, what in the world was she doing out here in this line with all these losers in the first place, huh? The top agent for the SDSTPDEKAU (So Damn Secret The President Doesn't Even Know About Us), auditioning for a role in "Cats?"

She stopped her internal bitching when the guy next to her nudged her in the arm and asked, "Hey pal, when do they start passing out the cheese?"

Pal? Cheese???

Jo pulled the compact back out, and the reflection revealed that the scarf had drooped from Joe's neck revealing an adam's apple the size of Vermont. He also noted that in the heat, he had rolled up the sleeves of his jacket a bit too high, revealing rather muscular and unwaxed forearms. Damn

Cheese????

(Time: 17:04)

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Prompt 2: (message title: June 4 - Steampunk)
Photo of surrealistic city with backdrop of ominous sky; I thought of "Oz," but on a somewhat difficult day.

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Chapter Two: Skid Marks

By Indelibleink

Joe hopped into the rental car and hit the radio, welcomed into the vehicle with some classic Joe Walsh. He then fired up the Garmin and punched in some coordinates. Looked like it would be a couple hours of driving before he would meet his contact, code name "Pants-On-The-Ground", and receive further instructions regarding his mission.

Now comfortably out of the suffocating female clothing he had worn earlier in the day, Joe cranked up the radio a bit more and slapped the Garmin for leading him to the wrong line. Obviously, he didn't connect on the "Cats' gig, but the good news was that he did score a brick of pepperjack cheese, even if technically he didn't qualify for one.

Well outside the city limits, and about an hour from his destination, Joe noted the flashing fuel tank icon on the dash telling him he was seriously low on petrol. He immediately went to the Garmin and attempted to access info for the closest gas stations, but the thing started flickering madly, and went dead briefly. Just when the thing seemed ready for last rites, the Garmin told Joe to take a right five hundred feet up the road.

No problem. Just one minor detail...no road!

However, almost out of nowhere, one did appear, and the right turn took Joe through a small dense forest. On the other side of the forest, an almost mystical image confronted Joe: A city that appeared to be more likely something found in a Jules Verne novel than 21st century United States! Eerily gothic yet with modern features such as monorail-type transportation, Joe stared at his surroundings then back at the Garmin. In an odd acknowledgement of Joe's befuddlement, the garmin simply displayed a blinking question mark.

Joe saw what appeared to be a gas station and pulled in, hoping to get some answers along with some gas.

(Time: 18:26)

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Prompt 3: (message title: June 5 - Figure )


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Chapter Three: Underoocover Agent

By Indelibleink

Before Joe could get out of his car to let the refueling begin, a nattily-attired gent dressed in garb from the 19th century came out and began to clean his windshield.

Awesome! Full service. You just don't see that very often any more.

"Fill 'er up with the regular, sir?"

Joe nodded yes; the attendant did so and resumed with the windshield work. Funny thing was, Joe noted that the attendant was now doing so without any pants! Joe stuck his head out the window, and saw that the guy's pants were on the ground.

Wait a tick...pants on the ground...PANTS ON THE GROUND? Could it be?

"Pardon me pal, I'm looking for a guy named 'Pants-on-the-ground.' Ever hear of him?"

The attendant pursed his lips and whispered, "Shhhhh. You came to the right place. I'm Pants's assistant, Underoos. You must be Joe."

Joe nodded his affirmation and Underoos turned and whistled. Another guy dressed like, but not in, Underoos, ran out, and they both joined Joe in the rental car. Pants took out a can of dark spray and coated the interior windows with a dark substance while Underoos took a portable light from under his coat and lit up the interior of the car. Joe locked the car doors, and from beneath Pants's coat a small statuette resembling some Greek athlete was produced.

Joe was perplexed.

"What the hell is this?"

Pants looked at Joe, then at the statue.

"We don't have much time, so I'll make this brief. Our country is in deep doo-doo. Somehow government officials are being fed - we're not sure just how yet - quantities of Ex Lax which have necessitated that they all spend long periods of time in the bathroom. The government is grinding to a halt. So you can see that I wasn't joking with the 'doo-doo' reference. This statue is made up of a concentrated Pepto Bismol that will counteract the Ex Lax on a permanent basis. Any questions?"

"Yeah. Why are you staring at the figurine's crotch?" Joe just had to know.

"If you take a look, you'll notice that the poor fellow's manhood is missing. You have to get this figurine to Washington ASAP, with this," Pants produced a miniature willy from his, um, pants, and gave it to Joe.
When you get to Washington, you have to screw - sorry, maybe that's a poor choice of words - the willy onto Peter - maybe we could have chosen a better name too - to activate the antidote."

Underoos was chuckling.

Pants screamed, "That's very unprofessional, Underoos!"

(Time: 19:20)
(Must do a better job of watching the clock...need a freaking buzzer)

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Prompt 4: (message title: June 6 - Climbers )
(naked climbers hauling something up a mountain)

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Chapter Four: Bare Essentials

By Indelibleink

Joe took the figurine and the activator, shook hands with Pants and Underoos, and pealed off the dark "secrecy" film from the inside of his windshield. Pants and Underoos hopped out of the car, but then jumped back in.

"What's wrong, you guys?"

Pants, panting, said, "There are enemy agents in cars sitting out on the street. You can't go that way - they'll surely kill you."

Joe asked, "Is there another way out of here?"

Underoos replied, "Yes, but it's over a treacherously dangerous mountain."

Pants said, "We have some experienced guide agents working over at the car wash. Budget cuts, you know."

Within a few minutes, three men and a woman had joined the other agents, except for Underoos, who was in the restroom. Holding bags of supplies to get them across the mountain, Joe noted the pitch of the mountain that they were about to climb. "How are we going to get our supplies over the mountain? We have no rope."

Pants had an idea. "Quick, everyone remove their clothes!" Quicker than you could say, "I feel a draft," everyone, including Underoos, who had just rejoined the group, had removed their clothing, and Pants had tightly wound the clothing into servicible lengths of rope, attaching make-shift harnesses to each person and then to the supplies.

"Pants, wouldn't it have been easier to use this?" Underoos reached into the supply bag, and pulled out 500 feet of 3/4 inch poly rope.

Pants slapped Underoos upside the head. "I'll deal with you later. Everyone start climbing. By the way be careful. This was named 'Razor Sharp-Ass Mountain' for a reason."

Following right behind Pants, and looking up, Underoos commented, "You know, Pants, I never realized until now just how anal you can be."

Pants turned and said. "Okay people, no naked jokes, please. No ifs, ands, or 'butts'."

That opened the floodgates:

"That reminds me, there's supposed to be a full 'moon' tonight."

"Why do I always have to bring up the 'rear'?"

"We'd better haul 'ass'."

"You people just 'crack' me up."

And so it went...

(Time 15:44)

(Much better)

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Prompt 5: (message title: June 7 - Booby )
(looks to me like a tipsy version of "March of the Penguins." I'm gonna run with that)

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Chapter Five: In Search of Mr. Whipple

By Indelibleink

After hours of climbing up what seemed like a near 90 degree angle, the agents reached a small plateau. Exhausted, the group collectively fell to the ground.

Joe exclaimed, “Man, I’m pooped. Which reminds me: Underoos, I’m going to need the toilet paper. You did remember the TP, right?”

Underoos let out a huge sigh and rolled his eyes. “I just knew I forgot something.”

Just as Joe was about to go kick some (bare) behind, the group heard what sounded like music about 50 or 60 meters ahead. A figurative light bulb clicked on over every agents head at the same time: They might have toilet paper!

Quickly, but (butt?) quietly, the group converged on the source of the music and were all quite stunned by what they collectively beheld: a group of penguin-like animals who were all drinking from what appeared to be a natural spring that, judging by the aroma, was highly alcoholic in content!

One of the penguins, clearly at the point of feeling no pain, began to sing. Crazier yet (if you'll accept the fact that the penguins were speaking English as not crazy) was the revelation that he was singing to the tune of “If I Only Had a Brain” from The Wizard of Oz:

Sometimes I while away the hours, just drinking whiskey sours
And I know who is to blame…
What were my parents thinkin’ when
their choice was clearly stinkin’
When they chose “Booby” for my name?

It might have been Larry, Jerry, or Barry
I guess those choices never came…
So the reason I’m binge drinkin’ is
‘cuz my self-esteem is shrinkin’
They gave me “Booby” for a name.

And though their judgement was quite poor,
They never quite told me just what for
But the name’s just too lousey to ignore…

Must have been puffin’ on a doobie to come up with a name like “Booby”
I’ve had to live my life in shame…
I even drink the cooking sherry, just wish my name was Harry
If I could only change my name…

At that point the penguin who identified himself as “Booby” fell over, quite drunk. The must have been a fairly normal occurrence, since the other dozen or so penguins gave Booby a standing ovation. Well, they stood as best as they could, since it was clear that there weren’t any tea-totalers in the bunch. In fact, one-by-one, they too passed out. And soon, the group of agents were sampling the offerings from the natural spring. Pretty soon, they  joined their little friends asleep on the ground.

(Time: 14:26)

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Prompt 6: (message title: June 8 - Horses )
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Chapter Six: Home, Homedics On the Range

By Indelibleink

The next morning, the seven agents woke up to find that the penguins were very hospitable and had prepared a lavish breakfast for them. Unfortunately, they also discovered that, to a penguin, "lavish" equates with "raw fish" so breakfast wasn't exactly yummy. They also discovered that, while they were still snoozing, the penguins had made them some clothes. (Apparently, naked humans are not paticularly appealing to penguins, especially penguins with a hangover).

Underoos, who had been over at the pond filling his sippy cup with more happy juice for the rest of the journey, suddenly rushed back to the rest of the gang.

"The enemy agents are only about 200 yards away! They've almost reached the top of the plateau."

Pants exclaimed, "Holy crap! What to do? Whatever to do?"

Booby offered a plan for his friends. "There's a shortcut down to the meadow which will get you safely to the other side of the mountain."

Joe furrowed his brow. "I'm worried that out in the meadow we'll become sitting ducks for the enemy; their snipers will pick us off easily."

"Not if you have these!" Booby ran into his little penguin hut and returned with a suitcase that read, "Annual Horse Event" on the side.

He opened the suitcase and pulled out a couple of horse costumes and assorted cowboy clothes. "In our culture, we worship the horse, and have an annual ritual every October. We use the costumes to honor the horse. You can use these if you promise to return them before our next wing-ding."

Thrilled beyond comprehension, Joe, Pants, and Underoos enthusiastically agreed to Booby's plan. The other four "guide" agents, however, didn't appear as thrilled, knowing what their roles were about to become.

Booby led the group through the secret passageway and to the meadow, whereupon the agents and Booby parted company (after considerable tears and blubbering).

The tears blubbering and continued when Joe ordered the guides into the two horse costumes.

"C'mon, people," Joe admonished, "Don't be horse's asses. Well, I guess two of you will be. But that's not important now. Get into the costumes. Quickly."

Grudgingly, the four guides complied, and Joe climbed aboard one, while Pants and Underoos hopped upon the other. With a mighty "Yeehaw" Joe dug his spurs into the side of his mount (which didn't win him any points with the guides) and off they went.

About halfway across the plain, Joe signaled the party to stop. Joe dismounted and ripped some of the grass-like vegetation, off of which dangled small green berries, from the ground. He ran the berries under his nose, and took a mighty whiff, and then motioned for Pants to join him.

"Know what this is, Pants?"

"Nope. Enlighten me."

"This is pure, unharvested Ex-Lax, my friend." I think we have inadvertently stumbled onto something really big here."

Still upon his steed, Underoos was becoming restless. "Hey, you guys. I'm getting hungry. When can we eat?"

Joe winked at Pants and turned to Underoos. "Here, Underoos. Have some wild berries. This ought to tide you over for a while."

(Time: 17:39 minutes)

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Prompt 7: (message title: June 9 - Train)
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Chapter 7:  Train(ing) Pants

By Indelibleink

Joe looked at his two remaining compatriots, Pants and Underoos.

“I can’t believe our own fellow agents would run off and leave us like that.”

“Well,” replied Pants, “we were forcing them to wear the horse costumes. Can you really blame them?”

The conversation was interrupted by a noise far off in the distance.

Woo-woo

“I can’t hear anything,” complained Underoos.

Joe put his finger to his lips. “Shhhh….Just listen…”

Woo-woo

Pants heard it. “I’ll be damned if it’s not a…”

Woo-wooooooooo

Everyone heard the last whistle. Joe pointed toward the direction of the whistle’s origin and the guys followed the noise, which took them through a fairly dense forest. Soon, they happened upon a clearing which revealed a surprising scene: A small train station populated by a large number of what appeared to be transient workers, based upon the fact that most appeared to be carrying with them their life’s belongings.

“Wonder what’s going on here…” Pants wondered.

Joe knew what was going on. “I remember reading in the paper last week that Amtrack had announced they were hiring. Looks like a bunch of job seekers to me.”

Underoos offered, “Somebody ought to lay some fashion tips on ‘em, and let them know that colored clothing is acceptable at a job interview. I’ve never seen so much black and white clothing in my entire life. Who’s conducting the interviews anyway, Ansel freaking Adams?”

Joe turned and looked at the self-appointed clothes critic. “Pretty strong words coming from a guy who not only wears – but also goes by the name of – “Underoos! Let’s go see if we can go get some tickets out of here.”

The three walked into the ticket office and approached the sales agent. Joe nodded to the man and said, “We need three tickets to Washington, D.C., and by the way, just what is the name of this town, Pal?”

“Pleasantville, sir.”

“I should have known.”

Soon the three secret agents were cutting Z’s in a sleeper car headed for home, with their antidote statuette and weenie activator by their sides.

(Time: 13:53)

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Prompt 8: (message title: June 10 - Inferno  )
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Chapter 8: Hot Tub Crime Machine

By Indelibleink

Joe leaned back in the bath tub and stretched. It was nice to finally relax for a change. With Pants and Underoos out catching a movie, it was nice to be alone with his thoughts, and escape the insanity that being a secret agent brings. Although Joe hadn’t been particularly thrilled when Underoos had informed him that there would be a layover in Hot Springs, a small, nearly deserted town out in the middle of nowhere, Joe now appreciated the chance to unwind.

With Spy Radio102.7FM on in the background playing Joe’s favorite tune, Secret Agent Man, Joe sighed and let his mind wander: The comforting water. The great background music. The ticking of the statuette. The beautiful night breeze. The…

Wait! The ticking of the statuette?!

Joe fixed his gaze upon the small Greek athlete who was now beginning to glow a light shade of crimson, but increasing in intensity with each pulse. Suddenly, it was all starting to make sense now…

Hey…trains don’t have ‘layovers’….and there’s no movie theater in this town! I’ve been set-up with a booby-trapped statuette. Pants and Underoos are double-agents! And, no wonder the guy at the front desk ran out of the building after checking me into my room!

Joe threw on a pair of boxers, and grabbed his service revolver from the holster on the bed. Being up on the third floor, with the statuette ready to blow at any second, he knew his only chance to escape certain death was the “direct route.”

He shot out the picture window of his room, and, with a running start, leapt up on the bed and bounced out though the window, executing a perfect triple gainer (just like they taught him in spy school) and landing in the outdoor swimming pool below, just as the statuette-bomb detonated.

Within seconds, the entire three stories of the hotel were completely engulfed in flame.

And that smart-ass Underoos said he found the deal for this place on ’Hot-Wire’. The bastard!

Still protected from the intense heat of the fire by the water in the pool, Joe saw Pants and Underoos sitting in a fancy sports car, no doubt a Firebird, observing the destruction and laughing. Seconds later, they drove off.

I'll get those bastards!
 
(Time: 16:51) 

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Prompt 9: (message title: June 11 - Raft)
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Chapter 9: Water You Really Doing?

By Indelibleink

So, how did a highly-trained secret agent such as me end up confronted by a life-threatening situation such as this: Snaking my way through powerful torrents of water; faced with split-second decisions that – due to a wrong turn here or a wrong twist there – could render the whole challenge a complete disaster?  Certainly, I had the best of training at the Spy Academy, but let’s be realistic: Training simply can’t cover everything! Sometimes, all you can do is pray and hope that that’s enough.

There was a knock at the door. “So, how’s it going in there, Joe? Did you get that leaky pipe repaired?”

Yep…plumbing emergencies can really test your skills at times!

Joe gave the monkey wrench one final twist, and turned on the water above the sink. “Looks good now.”

After Joe had lost virtually all of his possessions in the hotel fire the day before, including his wallet, Joe had to take a job just to be able to eat. And, although he had sent out a distress signal with his spy ring right after the fire, he had no way of knowing if the message had been received.

Fortunately, he heard that the nearby Grandpa’s Whitewater Outfitters was hiring guides (actually, make that guides/plumbers) for their rafting adventures, and Joe took the job to raise a little cash for food and maybe a bus ticket back to Washington.

Joe’s party of six all clung to the sides of the raft as it sliced through the raging waters of Sedentary Creek. Being a level “4” tour, this ride was not for the weak of heart. Five of  the six passengers on the raft were experienced rafters, but there was something not just quite right about the sixth. Maybe it was the fake nose and glasses disguise he was wearing. Joe just couldn’t put his finger on it.

As the raft approached the 30 foot drop known as “Widowmaker Falls,” the disguised man leaned over to Joe and shook his hand. “It’s been nice knowing you, if we don’t survive the falls.” As they shook hands, the man slipped Joe a small circular tube.

The guy’s an agent! They got my distress signal!

Things were looking up as they went over the falls.

(Time: 16:26)

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Prompt 10: (message title: June 12 - Alien)
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Chapter 10: E.T. - Exceedingly Thin

By Indelibleink

Upon arriving back at the whitewater raft put-in area, the man who had worn the fake nose and glasses, and had passed Joe a small tube containing money and his new orders from SDSTPDEKAU, once again approached Joe.

“Joe, can we talk a minute…in private?” The man spoke in a manner that implied he knew Joe, but with the disguise, Joe couldn’t place the voice.

“Sure, let’s take a walk down by the river.”

Once down by the water’s edge, Joe turned to face his fellow agent. What he saw was shocking – if not downright revolting: A man who was virtually all skin and bone; shrunken ears and nose - basically skin shrink-wrapped on a skeleton.

Joe, trying to keep his recently-devoured ham sandwich where it belonged –in his stomach – looked away and tried to defray his level of discomfort with a little humor.

“Dude…I think you can cut back from the seven-days-a-week at Bally’s. I’m guessing you’ve reached your target weight, Bud. Want to go grab a burger or something? Jeez…you remind me of my first wife before she put on her make-up in the morning. No, wait. Come to think of it, you actually look more like my second wife after she put on her make-up. She had a Sinead O’Connor thing going on there for a while, and…”

E.T. slipped his bony fingers into his shirt pocket and removed a photo of a rather portly gentleman who was standing with his arm around…Joe. ”Joe, do you by any chance know this guy?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Very funny. I mean the other guy.”

Joe studied the other man in the photograph for a second. “Sure, I know him. His name was Terry Tubbs. I went to the academy with him. With his last name and rotund physique, the guys had lots of nicknames for him: Tubbmeister, Tubbenator, Tubbster – you get the idea. Last I heard, he was with Homeland Security. If you run into, tell him I said hello, okay?”

“You can tell him right now, if you’d like.”

Joe looked into E.T.’s eyes. He knew he’d recognized the voice. “Tubbs…What the hell happened? You look like you just stepped off the set of a Spielberg flick. Want to go get a pizza or something? A Little Debbie? A pound of butter?”

Tubbs wiped a tear from where there used to be a brow. “Remember the Ex-Lax assignment you were working on? The contamination is spreading rapidly throughout many government agencies. No matter what we eat, the food goes right through us. Three days ago I was the Terry Tubbs you used to know. Now, I’m Calista freaking Flockhart.”

“The fate of all humanity is in your hands.”

(Time: 17:49)

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Prompt 11: (message title: June 13 - Cave)
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Chapter 11: Stalagmite Sanctuary

By Indelibleink

Just as Joe was about to give Tubbs a reassuring hug – for if anyone ever was deserving of one, it was Terry Tubbs - the two men were startled by the sudden burst of gunfire followed by the ominous sound of bullets whizzing precariously close to their heads. The agents took off running along the river bank.

About fifty yards upstream, Joe noted that the men were running out of real estate, as there was a very tall mass of rock from which a waterfall was feeding the river alongside which Joe and Tubbs were running. Another hail of bullets sent Joe and Terry diving into the river and beneath the waterfall, with both men fully expecting to hit the wall of rock at any second. However, that expectation was never realized, and the pair continued on for another fifteen or twenty feet before the need for oxygen became quite a priority, forcing them to surface.

What they beheld was quite a sight: An incredibly large cave offering a stunning visual array of colorful rock formations including stalagmites and stalagtites out the proverbial ying-yang.

“Wow,” exclaimed Terry, “this is absolutely beautiful. It looks like no one has even ever been here before. It’s like heaven on earth.”

Joe shook his head. “Well,  my slender friend, if it is indeed heaven, then St. Peter and God must be arguing over the admissions policy or something like that, because I hear voices coming from over there.” Joe motioned towards what appeared to be a tunnel at the other end of the cave.

The two men quickly climbed out of the water and hid behind a huge igneous rock formation, and awaited the arrival of the source of the voices. Soon a number of people emerged from the tunnel.

“Great…it’s a group of spelunkers!” Joe shook his head in disgust. “We need dry clothes and food.” Then, looking at Tubbs, said, “Well, at least I need food. But… how to get them?” Then the imaginary light bulb illuminated over Joe’s head. “Terry, why don’t you go over and say ‘hi’ to the gang?”

A few minutes later, after a bunch of screams of “Aliens,” and “We’re all gonna die,” followed by the sound of people dropping their belongings and running like hell, Joe and Terry had all the warm clothing, food, and equipment they needed.

(Time: 17:58)

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Prompt 12: (message title: June 14 - Concert)
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Chapter 12: The Sound of Music

By Indelibleink

“You really think this has a rat’s chance of working?” Jo looked worriedly at Terry.

Terry removed his fake nose and glasses to remind Jo what the ravages of the bio-terroristic Ex-Lax had done to him. “Look at me, Jo. There’s a room full of agents who look just like me sitting out there expecting a show. The headliner was just felled by the same thing that’s affected all of us. You always said you wanted to do a night club act as a woman. This is your big chance, dude – I mean, babe – oh, whatever! Just go out and do your thing – you’ll be a smash.

Jo looked at Terry dubiously and then back out at the crowd that packed Washington D.C. (the D.C. stood for “Dance Club”).

Man! I have never seen so many pairs of fake noses and glasses in my life!

Jo was worried that her five o’clock shadow was coming in and would blow her cover. With the heal of his shoe, Terry nudged – okay, kicked -  Jo in the posterior to “encourage” her out on the stage.

The band was playing favorites from The Sound of Music, and was midway through “Maria.” Jo hadn’t seen the movie in years, but certainly didn’t remember all of the lyrics, so she improvised, picking up the song about halfway through…

”How do you solve a problem like diarrhea? How do you keep your pants from falling down?
Oh, what can be done about this diarrrrrrheeeeaaaa?
An oral rehydration?
Pepto Bismol?
Antibiotics?

Many things we’d like to try – Lord only knows we need a plan
But how do you make the food stay and then digest it all the way?
Do you tie your intestines with a rubber band?

Oh how do you solve a problem like diarrrrrrrheeeeeaaaa?
This is exactly just what the enemy planned!!!!!

The crowd responded with a standing “O” for Jo.

Over behind the curtain, Terry was sobbing like a schoolgirl.

A star was born.

( Time: 16:13)

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Prompt 13: (message title: June 15 - Cat)
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Chapter  13: Captive Cats

By Indelibleink

“Freeze, Dirtbag!” Terry alternated nervous glances between Joe and the suspect, apparently leery about taking his eyes off of “public enemy number one” for more than a few seconds. “Careful, Joe, he might be packin’!”

Joe, who had reached over to “pat” the suspect down, looked back at his partner. “I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that you haven’t been in a situation like this before – handling automatic weapons and all – have you, Terry?”

Terry adjusted his fake nose and glasses and shook his head from side to side. “No, Joe, I haven’t. But…there’s something about these cats I just don’t like. I think this one’s the leader. He’s acting like a real cool cat, plus, the ones hiding under the cars are all looking at him.”

Joe shook his head. “Don’t think that’s why. It’s more like you’ve had that machine gun pointed right at the suspect’s head ever since we caught him and they’re no doubt convinced that you’re going to go Dirty Harry on him any moment. But, hey, if you think that’s the leader, go ahead and start your interrogation, Mr. Homeland Security.”

The prime suspect hacked up a fur-ball.

Terry noted the act and said, “Okay, punk, now we not only have you for smuggling lethal quantities of Ex-Lax into the city, we also have you on a 611: “Kitty litter-ing!”

Joe groaned at Terry’s poor attempt at some humor. In fact, it sounded like some of the other cats in the immediate area meowed their disapproval, too. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop Terry.

“When you guys play poker, do you still call the pot ‘the kitty’?”

Joe, although grateful that the method of smuggling the Ex-Lax into Washington had been discovered, thought seriously about turning his weapon on Terry, should one more cat joke surface.

Fortunately for all concerned, that didn’t happen.

(Time: 14:49)

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Prompt 14: (message title: June 16 - Boat)
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Chapter 14: Washington Crossing the Delaware

By Indelibleink

“You’d have thought the Feds woulda sprung for a slightly better boat. Hell, they had a better boat in The Three Stooges Meet Hercules, for God’s sake.” Clearly, Terry Tubbs was annoyed.

Joe could understand his compatriot’s frustration, but chose to look at the big picture. “Terry, Terry, Terry! Try to be like me…Look at the ‘big picture’ (whoa - déjà vu). Seriously, we caught the kitties, and now that we have developed an antidote for the Ex-Lax – and I’d like to go on record as saying that the code name ‘Big Plug’ was rather crude – we can all breathe a little easier now.”

Terry wasn’t buying what Joe was selling. “Okay, Gilligan, I realize that there are a ton – a ton plus one if you include me – of afflicted Federal agents that need the antidote, but why in heaven’s name, oh learned one, do we have to ship – and I mean that literally ship  – the agents across the friggin’ Delaware from Washington after they get the antidote?”

“Because, my thin-bespectacled-fake-nose-and-glasses friend, it’s the Federal government calling the shots. You actually expect logic? And don’t forget that with the budget cut-backs, this stinking garbage barge was the best they could do. And, in its infinite wisdom, the deep-thinkers wanted all those who had been vaccinated to leave the quarantined area. Capice?”

“No thanks, I don’t drink. By the way, Captain Ahab, what are they going to do with all of the kitties that were captured that were working for the other side, gas ‘em? Rescue ‘em”

“Now, Terry. How would I know the answer to that? Who am I, Sarah McLachlan?”

“Well, you did bear a striking resemblance the other night at the club…”

“Stop it. Let’s drop off this mass of humanity and call it a night.

“Aye-aye, Skipper. Yeah, I’m pooped.”

“Very funny.”

(Time: 15:17)

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Prompt 15: (message title: June 17 - Frogs)
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Chapter 15: Out On A Limb

By Indelibleink

Hey Joe”

“Yes, Terry?”

“Feel anything different yet”

“Not really…maybe a little ‘jumpy’, but that’s probably just the coffee talking.”

“Yeah. I feel like I have more ‘spring’ in my step also. Maybe we shouldn’t have volunteered for that new ‘happy’ drug.”

“Idiot…it wasn’t a happy drug we volunteered for, it is called a hoppy drug.”

“Okay, I give up. Why are we taking this so-called ‘hoppy’ drug?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but the boss said it would help us get a ‘jump’ on the competition, and as you know, I’m all about having a competitive edge whenever I can find one.”

“You sure are, Joe. You know, I’m really happy we got the ‘Incontinence Caper’ cleared up. In fact, I’m glad we got the whole thing out of our system.”

“You’re not going to start with the diarrhea jokes again, are you?”

“Man, your eyes really bugged out when I said that! Hey, I was only kidding. By the way, how many more pull-ups do we have to do before we go to the next exercise?”

“We’re done; we can go now.”

“What do we do next?”

“Broad jump.”

“You know, I have never considered myself to be much of a sportsman, but suddenly I have this overwhelming urge to try something new.”

“Yeah…like what?”

“Fly fishing.”

“Strange…me too.”

(Time: 15:54)

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