Agent 012

Today's Link
Cat's Cradle

Saying for the Day
Good decisions come from experience, and experience comes from bad decisions. ~Author Unknown

Picture of the Day

Jeff's picture story thingy




Agent 012 sat in the bus station pretending to read the paper but in reality watching the clock. He was waiting for the 3:30 bus from Albuquerque and was beginning to think the hands on the old station clock were stuck. Time moves so slowly when your waiting for something important.
Just two hours ago he was facing three machete wielding madmen who wanted to chop him in to little pieces until he covered them with the new sticky stuff from his ring. One of the new inventions Quilly, their new technical expert had given him. He called the Agency they sent some men and now the juggler, the three men, and the Tin Man were all in custody.
But an agents job is never done. One of the men, the dumbest one , had a note on him that said “ 3:30 Bus Albuquerque “. Since he worked for the Tattletale they figured he was coming in on that bus.
So here he sat looking through the fake glasses that sent video information through the transmitter in his fanny pack to the Agency van which was parked only two blocks away. In the van the pictures were fed into the face recognition software so that even a disguised Tattletale would be spotted. The van was in front of the open sign of “ The Innerspace Restaurant-Serving Out of this World Food” just in case the agents got a little hungry.
Agent 012 hoped the bus would be on time and then he could quickly catch the terrorist crook and be home in time to play a little pool with the boys, spell out I love you in alphabet candies for the wife, have a snack, and then watch CSI,. his favorite show.
After what seemed like a million ticks and tocks and little jerks of the clock hands it was time and the bus came in. There were only ten people on the bus. The first eight departed quickly and clearly weren't the Tattletale. Left on the bus were and old man and old lady. The poor old man looked like he would fall over at any moment and steadied himself with a cane. Getting off the bus was an ordeal for him and he had to lean on the bus driver for support. Agent 012 considered getting up and helping when suddenly a voice in his earphone said “he’s the one. That’s the Tattletale.”
Agent 012 pulled his gun and stopped the old man. ”Drop your cane he said”. He knew about the canes that the Mute Mob carried from time to time. And was not about to be fooled by that trick. The old looking man did so but looked like he was going to fall over.
Suddenly the old lady raised her umbrella as if to hit Agent 012. “What are you doing to my poor old husband “ she asked?
But 012 didn’t get to answer as he found himself covered with the same gooey stuff he had used on the machete guys.
“It looks like Mute has new technology too! Where’s my backup?” he thought.
This wasn’t going to be his day.

News from Pigeon Falls

The little town in my basement where the trains still run, dragons fly, and life is back to normal
Jonathan Edward Ekola or “Pigeon”, as he had been called from the time he was a kid, sat in the waiting room of the old Pigeon Falls Railroad Station waiting for the noon train to come in. That train was carrying his new life in the form of a fully loaded van. The great adventure was about to begin. As he watched the hands of the clock move so slowly he thought that time changed its speed according to your expectation. Any kid knows that the closer you get to Christmas the slower time moves and it was like that today. This was a hundred Christmases all rolled into one. So the hands of the old clock barely moved.
As he waited he thought of what was in that van. It contained everything he needed for the “Happy Pigeon” his new bar and grill. He had saved up his money and bought Joe’s Bar and Grill. You know, the dumpy place at the start of the yellow brick road. It was losing money hand over fist so he got it for a song. Then he gutted it and completely redid the inside with beautiful new wood panels and with a huge mirror embossed with a smiling pigeon back of where the bar would go. The outside was repainted and the big smiling Pigeon Bar and Grill sign was hung.
All he needed to finish the job was the stuff in that van. In his backpack or perhaps it was more rightly called a fanny pack were all the papers he needed to take possession of the van and its contents. As well as his cell phone.
In the van would be his beautiful mahogany bar, three boxes of alphabet candy he intended to put out on the bar in little bowls, the pool table for the corner , chairs , tables and booths, and of course supplies for the kitchen. It would be better than the Fly Inn had ever been.
While he was waiting he ran into the former Saturday night bartender for the Fly Inn who had just gotten fired. Knowing that he was very popular Pigeon hired him on the spot.
The noon train came and went and no van. Apparently it was still on the sidetrack in Iron Mountain across from the open sign. The railroad promised that they would have it on the 4:30 train.
So it was back to watching the clock drag on

Wrap Up

A fairly good day. I got all of my July blogs ready to print out for Dawn. I started printing out the June blogs but ran out of black ink. In the afternoon we went back to cleaning under the layout. We are pulling every box out from under the table. Throwing stuff away and putting the rest together by category. It will take us until next week to finish it all. We did , of course, take a little time to run the two modules that are done. That was fun. Came up and visited blogs. Now I need a breathing treatment.
GBYA

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