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discoveredinaljTitle: The Two Efficient and Organized Agents of CI5 during the Holidays
Author: lbc
Note: This story is brought to you in two parts. The completion will be on December 30, 2019
HOW THE CHALLENGE BEGAN
WAP Bodie, Colin Murphy, and Chris Anson lay slouched on the various seats in the CI5 restroom. It was only a few weeks until the holiday season would be upon them so it was perfectly natural for Anson (if anything was natural for Anson) to inquire of the barely awake Bodie,
“Hey, you got any plans for the holidays? Are you workin’?”
Bodie’s handsome face immediately changed to a devious look that spoke of gloating extraordinaire. “ Got the 24th through the 26th off so you won’t see this gorgeous face for three whole days.”
“Hey, how come you got three days off, and I got to work – in fact, I GOT TO DRIVE COWLEY all over the realm!”
“Tsssk, tsssk, tssk, Some of us are chosen for greatness and rewards and the rest of us are chosen to clean a thousand loos. It’s easy to see which one you got, Anson. Congratulations though, maybe the Cow will give you lots of pressies IF you behave yourself.”
“What have you got on him? We all know you’re his fair-haired boy, but it’s got to be more than that. Speak up oh Swami, and tell us what’s your secret.”
Colin Murphy had been listening quietly to all of this without saying a word, but now the handsome Irishman broke in with a sensitive, perceptive comment which stunned one and all with its erudition. “Maybe it’s because Bodie and Doyle don’t pass wind or belch when they’re around the Comptroller of CI5 like you do, you moron.”
Anson looked crestfallen and a bit pouty, but he wasn’t about to admit he was defeated, “You know in some cultures those activities are considered to be compliments?”
“Yeah, but since you have no culture whatsoever, what’s your excuse?” All three men turned to look at the agent that was just coming through the door. Tennyson was new to the squad, and he had already rubbed half of them the wrong way and was working on the other half. This remark to Anson, however, met with the full approval of all the agents lingering around the restroom area.
“Hey, what is this – pick on Anson Day?”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Anson - - everyday is Pick-On-Anson Day.”
“Say’s you, Bodie.”
Murphy immediately chimed in with, “See how clever my partner of the month is; his use of English rhetoric is admired far and wide in this ‘throne of kings, demi-paradise.”
“Hey, I know that line, it was written by Tennyson several years ago, I believe.”
Every agent still in the room, groaned and shook their heads at the newest agent, except for Anson, who
wouldn’t have known the author even if was his own father.
“Tennyson, not everything is written by your namesake, this little gem was written by Shakespeare and was around a long time before Tennyson, New and Old, were even twinkles in their fathers’ eyes.”
Only slightly abashed, Tennyson, immediately turned the conversation to a more important topic. “What were you guys talking about before I came in?”
Anson hadn’t been happy that he had lost control of the Bodie interrogation so he immediately burst forth with, “Bodie here has got three days off, and I was merely inquiring, like the good friend I am, what his plans were for the joyous occasion.”
Murphy looked like he had just swallowed his Adam’s apple when he heard this less-than-truthful announcement, but he said nothing. Tennyson, on the other hand remarked in a somewhat sincere voice, “That’s very thoughtful of you, Anson; I didn’t know you ever thought about anybody’s else’s activities except your own, so Bodie, what plans do you have?”
“Well, since I got three days, I figure with Jenny in town, I will grace her with my presence, and let her fix me a superior, gourmet meal, then I’ll catch up on my sleep, and then maybe I’ll visit my local and test the inventory.”
Anson immediately popped up with, “Those are your plans, are they? I believe that like I believe you’re going to win the Irish Sweepstakes. Everybody knows that you and Doyle are the most inefficient organizers in the world. Whatever you plan or set up, always goes wrong. You don’t know the meaning of organizing. You and the Scrawny One never plan ahead because something always goes wrong so tell us another one.”
Bodie’s blue eyes flashed as he quickly saw the possibilities to gain over the big-mouthed Anson with money or booze or something. “Are you challenging Doyle and me – saying we can’t make plans for our three day vacation and then have them work out PERFECTLY?”
“That’s what I’m saying, but I won’t just accept your word. You got to post on that board, both you and Doyle’s lists of what you’re going to do, and you have to leave the lists up there for all to see. Then after Boxing Day, you have to prove that 90% of them occurred, just as you predicted or the bet doesn’t count.”
“And if Doyle and I successfully make these plans, what do we get in return?”
“I’ll buy you and Doyle the first three rounds at any pub you indicate.”
“Hey, what about the rest of us? You going to buy our drinks too if we list our plans for the holidays?” This question had been posed by an Einstein-level agent named Ferguson, whose IQ was considered to be in single digits even on a good day.
“No, you moron, besides no one cares what you do with yourself during your vacation – playing with yourself is not something I have any interest in.”
Bodie felt that his reward was slipping away with all these extra interlopers so he quickly jumped in and said, “Okay, okay, Doyle and I will agree to the bet, and you others can work out your deals separately with Anson.”
“Just a minute, Bodie, if you LOSE the challenge then you and Doyle got to pay for the whole crowd for the whole evening at any pub I mention. Okay?”
“Well, Doyle isn’t even here to agree to that so maybe I better talk to him first.”
Anson rubbed his hands together, seeing the abyss opening up that Bodie had almost walked into, so he decided to push a bit harder. “Oh, so you don’t have much confidence in your organizing abilities and you’re going to shove all the shite onto Doyle now, are you?”
No body accuses Bodie and Doyle (even though absent) on reneging on a challenge so he immediately jumped in with both feet and Doyle’s beautiful bum as well. “All right, all right, Doyle and I will publish on that board, our plans for the three days previously indicated, and we will come back on the day after Boxing Day to reveal our 100% accurate predictions, and then you can drink those words.”
“Wait a minute. I got to have more than just your word that you accomplished all your predictions. I trust Doyle but not that much and YOU I don’t trust at all.”
“Well, that really takes some nerve. That’s like the pot calling . . .”
“Now never mind, I here-by appoint my good friend and trusted partner, Colin Murphy to report back to all of us about what you accomplished.”
“Hey, I got plans of my own; I don’t want to babysit this moron and his hairy partner.”
The room became absolutely silent as every eye in the room turned and stared at Murphy. The tall man began to slink into the moth-eaten sofa, trying to avoid the malevolet looks that were coming his way.
“It’s either you, Murph or the challenge is off; so what do you say?”
“All right, all right, but if this messes up my plans, you’re going to see one very unhappy Irishman.”
“And just what does that mean?”
“I don’t know, but when I decide, I’ll let you know.”
Anson immediately stood up, his palms out, demanding quiet. “All right you’ve all heard the conditions of the challenge. Tomorrow morning, Bodie and Doyle will post their plans for the upcoming three days of orgy, we will all read it, and my son, Murphy will reveal the goings on the day after Boxing Day, and then Bodie and Doyle will be paying out in booze.”
Bodie stood up and thumbed his nose at Anson, “That’s what you think, maybe I should ask you to show your money now, ‘cause you’re going to be paying out big time.”
The grin that covered Anson’s face spoke volumes, “We’ll just see about that. Remember first thing in the morning, both lists better be up there.”
“They will, they will, but I’ve got better things to do than sitting here talking to you morons.” Bodie quickly exited the restroom, hoping he could find Doyle right away and explain to him the “little” challenge that his big mouth had gotten them into. After looking all over CI5 for the scrawny lad, Bodie finally remembered that Doyle had been sent out of town by Cowley and wouldn’t be back until later tomorrow - - much too late to give him his plans for the upcoming holidays.
Well, who knows Doyle better than me – I’LL JUST HAVE TO MAKE UP THE LIST MYSELF.
It was through the “genius” of one WAP Bodie that the following plan for the holidays was posted to the board in the CI5 restroom. Here follows a replica of the plan due to the “mysterious” destruction of said poster at a future date.
TDHM
Give Doyle his pressie
Sample inventory at pub
Pick up Jenny from airport
Permit Jenny to fix delicious food
Sleep
Wait for Doyle to call
Light up Jenny’s life by staying some of the time at her flat
Thrill Jenny with my bedroom décor when she visits me
Encourage Jenny to see my etchings
Go to pub to get resources for three days
Talk to Doyle
DOYLE
Carefully wrap and give Bodie his pressies
Buy Bodie whatever he wants at pub
Pick up Charlotte from hospital
Go shopping for meals for me and Charlotte’s
Sleep when not preparing meals
Call Bodie and wish him happy holidays
Clean up flat so Charlotte won’t tell me I’m a slob again
Hint to Charlotte about my new duvet
Make sure to get enough supplies
Talk to Bodie
Unfortunately soon after Bodie posted this challenge on the restroom board, grafitti began to appear - which was not terribly surprising, considering the ignoramuses who began to read the poster over the next few days. Anson needless to say, perused the poster very carefully, mumbling several times that he had the bet in the bag because those two dumb cruds could not pull this off. He wasn’t going to have to worry about where to get the money to finance this little challenge.
As soon as Bodie posted this model of organization and erudition, he had been called to the computer room, where, once again, he was ask to translate some of his recent reports so that the typists could change them into legible script. Spending more time there due to the worship and admiration of the females (or at least that’s what Bodie told himself), Bodie hurried to the tea vending machine to fortify himself with hot liquid (?) before he met up with Anson, who Bodie knew would have to make some comments about the plans.
As Bodie hustled towards the restroom, an agent he didn’t even know, said to him out of the side of his mouth, “Doyle’s back.” Bodie immediately began to sweat – what if Doyle was unhappy with his list; what if he didn’t want to pay his fair share, what if Doyle tried to kill him?
Peeking into the restroom, Bodie breathed a sigh of relief because the room was empty, but the recently perfect plans poster WAS NOT. There were messages all over it, including a remark besides Doyle’s hint to Charlotte about the duvet. Some genius had crossed out the beginning of the statement and inserted GROVEL TO CHARLOTTE. Next to the note about cleaning up the flat, were the words: YOU ARE A SLOB! Finally, there was a notation next to the entire list, YOU’LL NEVER PULL THIS OFF – SIDES YOU’RE TOO CHEAP! The most explosive comment, however, was the grafitti next to Doyle’s name – HAIR BALL!
His plans, however, didn’t seem to have such insulting rhetoric, but Bodie suddenly noticed in miniscule print, THE BODIE EGO STRIKES AGAIN. Obviously some jealous turkey had written this. Bodie was preparing to walk away when he noticed a folded sheet of paper pinned to his side of the plans post. It had one word written on it, “BODIE”. Taking it off the board and opening it carefully as if it were a bomb, Bodie’s blue eyes bugged out as he saw the words,
YOU’RE A DEAD MAN!
Bodie closed his eyes as he realized who had sent this love note to him, putting a Cheshire Cat grin on his face, Bodie turned and looked around the room, “Doyle, where are you?”
“Behind you, you nitwit! Just what do you think you were doing, putting this trash up on the board?”
“Calm down, Doyle. I was just defending you. You know Anson’s big mouth. Well, he was maligning your organizing ability. He said you couldn’t carry out anything that you ever planned and that this three days of vacation was no different. It would end in a fiasco. I was just standing up for you. I told him that you and I had lots of plans for these three days and that our plans were all in place and everything would go as scheduled. Big mouth Anson then challenged you . . . uh, us to prove that we had plans and that we could complete them. That’s why the plans are on the board.”
“I didn’t tell you my plans so how come my name is on them and that it’s got HAIR BALL written next to it? You explain that in the next two seconds or your handsome face will cease to exist.”
Bodie was stunned by the vehemence in his friend’s voice; quite frankly he was stymied by what to reply so he prevaricated as best he could, “Gee, Doyle, you really think I’m handsome. Gee, thanks, I think it was one of your worshippers who wrote that, you know it wasn’t me because I’m one of your biggest admi . . .”
“All right, Bodie, that’s enough. You’re done for.”
Bodie closed his eyes, preparing for one of Doyle’s famous right cross or was it the upper cut that usually laid one out? Fortunately, for Bodie’s magnificent features, he was saved from an intimacy with Doyle’s fist by a voice booming out, “Just what is going on in here? I put out a call for you two 10 minutes ago; in my office now.”
Never had William Bodie been so glad to hear the Controller’s voice as he was at that moment. Grinning facetiously at Doyle, Bodie stood at attention and said, “Running all the way, sir.”
For the next hour the two agents endured COWLEY’S PLANS (which were always explicit and wouldn’t dare go awry) before they were permitted to leave. Both men’s features were drawn and pale as well as their shoulders slumped with the thought that for the next two days, they were to be conjoined as the Head of CI5. Cowley would be in the north at a private home having a set of vital “meetings” so he would be too far away to have his typical hands on the goings on. Doyle was grumbling all the way to the restroom as he contemplated what the next two days would be like. Why was it that every time there was something wonderful coming up, there was a price to be paid for that gift?
Bodie was equally depressed but being slightly more shallow, he was already making plans (like the organizer he was) to compensate for Cowley’s plans. “Stop grumbling and listen up. Did you hear Cowley say that we had absolute authority to call up any agent we needed to keep the place running at its usual efficiency?”
Doyle’s green eyes stared back at Bodie like he had lost his mind, “No, I heard him say that we should play this whole thing very low key. Crime was usually down during this time of year so don’t go causing any riots or anything that would cause the downfall of the realm or the Commonwealth.”
“Boy, you better get your hearing checked, ‘cause I heard a lot more than that.”
“I’ve told you for years that you keep hearing things, especially from your so-called birds who you claim keep swearing their undying love for you. The only thing I remember is that he said that we could have one more agent on call if we needed them, but that the back-up squad was to be sent out if there was trouble, and WE CAN’T MESS WITH THE back-up squad.”
Bodie’s smile became smarmy and sly, “Well, how about we call up Tennyson, you know how gung-ho he is to serve and protect?”
“What’s he going to do?”
“All of the dirty work, you dumb crud. We will spend our time in the restroom, enlightening our minds and eating ourselves into splendid gluttony while he handles everything.”
“Well . . .”
“That’s my partner. He’ll do all the work and that will give us time to complete our plans for our upcoming vacation.” As soon as Bodie said those words, he realized that he had made a major mistake,
he could see Doyle’s green eyes sparkle with anger as he remembered the “Challenge” was hanging bedraggled up on the wall. “Well, I better get going; I got lots to do before tomorrow.”
“Oh, no you don’t, WE HAVE TO TALK.”
Oh! Oh! “Now, Doyle, me boyo, what would you be wantin’ to talk to me about?”
“How did you get involved in this challenge or, better yet, why did you drag me into it?”
“I told you, Doyle, that Anson was maligning you and well . . . well, I felt I had to challenge his libelous and slanderous words and suddenly it became this bet and Murphy is our witness.”
“Murph? What you talkin’ about?”
“Apparently, he also has the three days off and he is somehow going to be our witness that we have accomplished all of our plans. I’m not too clear about that.”
“You’re not too clear about a lot of things. Do you think we can bribe him?”
“Murphy? That man among men, that epitome of principles and virtue?” Bodie stopped for a momet and thought very carefully and then gave a big grin and said, “Sure, no problem at all.”
“Well, all I got to say is we better win or your monkey face will look like a monkey’s rear end, if we lose.”
“Now, Doyle don’t talk like that. I tell you it’s in the bag. We are organizers-par excellence so what could go wrong?”
Suddenly the room was filled with agents led by Anson, who was very anxious to solidify in blood, if possible, the agreement between the two sides. Anson laid it on thick about the lack of dependability in the organizing talent of either ignoramus on the opposing side and he encouraged every agent to be at the Duck and Waddle on the evening of December 27th to enjoy the beneficence of Bodie and Doyle before the shifts changed and the poor slaves of the 24th through 26th took off for their just rewards.
Finally, the room cleared, except for Murphy who promised one more time that he was clean, thrifty, and honest and he would be there to judge their accomplishments and the report back to one-and-all on the morning of December 27.
Finally, Doyle and Bodie were able to head to their cars, when suddenly Bodie grabbed Doyle’s slender arm. “I’m planning to drop by with your pressie early on the 24th so I can spend the rest of the three days with that lucky girl, Jenny – if you know what I mean?”
“You’re a pervert, Bodie, and I know what you mean, and I’m tellin’ you one last time. We better win this challenge.”
“No problem at all. I keep tellin’ you be ready to drink on the 27th because Anson will be paying up big time. What could happen when you’re dealin’ with two master efficiency experts like us?”
Doyle said nothing, just rolled his eyes and started to walk to his car when all of a sudden he heard Bodie’s dulcet tones ask, “Hey, Doyle, could you loan me 50 pounds or so, just in case, and just remember, keep a positive thought – what could possibly go wrong?”
Knowing that his thoughts at that moment were not too Christmas-like, Doyle got quickly into his car and drove away.
END OF PART ONE: In part 2, we discover how everything goes for our two master organizers.
Author: lbc
Note: This story is brought to you in two parts. The completion will be on December 30, 2019
HOW THE CHALLENGE BEGAN
WAP Bodie, Colin Murphy, and Chris Anson lay slouched on the various seats in the CI5 restroom. It was only a few weeks until the holiday season would be upon them so it was perfectly natural for Anson (if anything was natural for Anson) to inquire of the barely awake Bodie,
“Hey, you got any plans for the holidays? Are you workin’?”
Bodie’s handsome face immediately changed to a devious look that spoke of gloating extraordinaire. “ Got the 24th through the 26th off so you won’t see this gorgeous face for three whole days.”
“Hey, how come you got three days off, and I got to work – in fact, I GOT TO DRIVE COWLEY all over the realm!”
“Tsssk, tsssk, tssk, Some of us are chosen for greatness and rewards and the rest of us are chosen to clean a thousand loos. It’s easy to see which one you got, Anson. Congratulations though, maybe the Cow will give you lots of pressies IF you behave yourself.”
“What have you got on him? We all know you’re his fair-haired boy, but it’s got to be more than that. Speak up oh Swami, and tell us what’s your secret.”
Colin Murphy had been listening quietly to all of this without saying a word, but now the handsome Irishman broke in with a sensitive, perceptive comment which stunned one and all with its erudition. “Maybe it’s because Bodie and Doyle don’t pass wind or belch when they’re around the Comptroller of CI5 like you do, you moron.”
Anson looked crestfallen and a bit pouty, but he wasn’t about to admit he was defeated, “You know in some cultures those activities are considered to be compliments?”
“Yeah, but since you have no culture whatsoever, what’s your excuse?” All three men turned to look at the agent that was just coming through the door. Tennyson was new to the squad, and he had already rubbed half of them the wrong way and was working on the other half. This remark to Anson, however, met with the full approval of all the agents lingering around the restroom area.
“Hey, what is this – pick on Anson Day?”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Anson - - everyday is Pick-On-Anson Day.”
“Say’s you, Bodie.”
Murphy immediately chimed in with, “See how clever my partner of the month is; his use of English rhetoric is admired far and wide in this ‘throne of kings, demi-paradise.”
“Hey, I know that line, it was written by Tennyson several years ago, I believe.”
Every agent still in the room, groaned and shook their heads at the newest agent, except for Anson, who
wouldn’t have known the author even if was his own father.
“Tennyson, not everything is written by your namesake, this little gem was written by Shakespeare and was around a long time before Tennyson, New and Old, were even twinkles in their fathers’ eyes.”
Only slightly abashed, Tennyson, immediately turned the conversation to a more important topic. “What were you guys talking about before I came in?”
Anson hadn’t been happy that he had lost control of the Bodie interrogation so he immediately burst forth with, “Bodie here has got three days off, and I was merely inquiring, like the good friend I am, what his plans were for the joyous occasion.”
Murphy looked like he had just swallowed his Adam’s apple when he heard this less-than-truthful announcement, but he said nothing. Tennyson, on the other hand remarked in a somewhat sincere voice, “That’s very thoughtful of you, Anson; I didn’t know you ever thought about anybody’s else’s activities except your own, so Bodie, what plans do you have?”
“Well, since I got three days, I figure with Jenny in town, I will grace her with my presence, and let her fix me a superior, gourmet meal, then I’ll catch up on my sleep, and then maybe I’ll visit my local and test the inventory.”
Anson immediately popped up with, “Those are your plans, are they? I believe that like I believe you’re going to win the Irish Sweepstakes. Everybody knows that you and Doyle are the most inefficient organizers in the world. Whatever you plan or set up, always goes wrong. You don’t know the meaning of organizing. You and the Scrawny One never plan ahead because something always goes wrong so tell us another one.”
Bodie’s blue eyes flashed as he quickly saw the possibilities to gain over the big-mouthed Anson with money or booze or something. “Are you challenging Doyle and me – saying we can’t make plans for our three day vacation and then have them work out PERFECTLY?”
“That’s what I’m saying, but I won’t just accept your word. You got to post on that board, both you and Doyle’s lists of what you’re going to do, and you have to leave the lists up there for all to see. Then after Boxing Day, you have to prove that 90% of them occurred, just as you predicted or the bet doesn’t count.”
“And if Doyle and I successfully make these plans, what do we get in return?”
“I’ll buy you and Doyle the first three rounds at any pub you indicate.”
“Hey, what about the rest of us? You going to buy our drinks too if we list our plans for the holidays?” This question had been posed by an Einstein-level agent named Ferguson, whose IQ was considered to be in single digits even on a good day.
“No, you moron, besides no one cares what you do with yourself during your vacation – playing with yourself is not something I have any interest in.”
Bodie felt that his reward was slipping away with all these extra interlopers so he quickly jumped in and said, “Okay, okay, Doyle and I will agree to the bet, and you others can work out your deals separately with Anson.”
“Just a minute, Bodie, if you LOSE the challenge then you and Doyle got to pay for the whole crowd for the whole evening at any pub I mention. Okay?”
“Well, Doyle isn’t even here to agree to that so maybe I better talk to him first.”
Anson rubbed his hands together, seeing the abyss opening up that Bodie had almost walked into, so he decided to push a bit harder. “Oh, so you don’t have much confidence in your organizing abilities and you’re going to shove all the shite onto Doyle now, are you?”
No body accuses Bodie and Doyle (even though absent) on reneging on a challenge so he immediately jumped in with both feet and Doyle’s beautiful bum as well. “All right, all right, Doyle and I will publish on that board, our plans for the three days previously indicated, and we will come back on the day after Boxing Day to reveal our 100% accurate predictions, and then you can drink those words.”
“Wait a minute. I got to have more than just your word that you accomplished all your predictions. I trust Doyle but not that much and YOU I don’t trust at all.”
“Well, that really takes some nerve. That’s like the pot calling . . .”
“Now never mind, I here-by appoint my good friend and trusted partner, Colin Murphy to report back to all of us about what you accomplished.”
“Hey, I got plans of my own; I don’t want to babysit this moron and his hairy partner.”
The room became absolutely silent as every eye in the room turned and stared at Murphy. The tall man began to slink into the moth-eaten sofa, trying to avoid the malevolet looks that were coming his way.
“It’s either you, Murph or the challenge is off; so what do you say?”
“All right, all right, but if this messes up my plans, you’re going to see one very unhappy Irishman.”
“And just what does that mean?”
“I don’t know, but when I decide, I’ll let you know.”
Anson immediately stood up, his palms out, demanding quiet. “All right you’ve all heard the conditions of the challenge. Tomorrow morning, Bodie and Doyle will post their plans for the upcoming three days of orgy, we will all read it, and my son, Murphy will reveal the goings on the day after Boxing Day, and then Bodie and Doyle will be paying out in booze.”
Bodie stood up and thumbed his nose at Anson, “That’s what you think, maybe I should ask you to show your money now, ‘cause you’re going to be paying out big time.”
The grin that covered Anson’s face spoke volumes, “We’ll just see about that. Remember first thing in the morning, both lists better be up there.”
“They will, they will, but I’ve got better things to do than sitting here talking to you morons.” Bodie quickly exited the restroom, hoping he could find Doyle right away and explain to him the “little” challenge that his big mouth had gotten them into. After looking all over CI5 for the scrawny lad, Bodie finally remembered that Doyle had been sent out of town by Cowley and wouldn’t be back until later tomorrow - - much too late to give him his plans for the upcoming holidays.
Well, who knows Doyle better than me – I’LL JUST HAVE TO MAKE UP THE LIST MYSELF.
It was through the “genius” of one WAP Bodie that the following plan for the holidays was posted to the board in the CI5 restroom. Here follows a replica of the plan due to the “mysterious” destruction of said poster at a future date.
TDHM
Give Doyle his pressie
Sample inventory at pub
Pick up Jenny from airport
Permit Jenny to fix delicious food
Sleep
Wait for Doyle to call
Light up Jenny’s life by staying some of the time at her flat
Thrill Jenny with my bedroom décor when she visits me
Encourage Jenny to see my etchings
Go to pub to get resources for three days
Talk to Doyle
DOYLE
Carefully wrap and give Bodie his pressies
Buy Bodie whatever he wants at pub
Pick up Charlotte from hospital
Go shopping for meals for me and Charlotte’s
Sleep when not preparing meals
Call Bodie and wish him happy holidays
Clean up flat so Charlotte won’t tell me I’m a slob again
Hint to Charlotte about my new duvet
Make sure to get enough supplies
Talk to Bodie
Unfortunately soon after Bodie posted this challenge on the restroom board, grafitti began to appear - which was not terribly surprising, considering the ignoramuses who began to read the poster over the next few days. Anson needless to say, perused the poster very carefully, mumbling several times that he had the bet in the bag because those two dumb cruds could not pull this off. He wasn’t going to have to worry about where to get the money to finance this little challenge.
As soon as Bodie posted this model of organization and erudition, he had been called to the computer room, where, once again, he was ask to translate some of his recent reports so that the typists could change them into legible script. Spending more time there due to the worship and admiration of the females (or at least that’s what Bodie told himself), Bodie hurried to the tea vending machine to fortify himself with hot liquid (?) before he met up with Anson, who Bodie knew would have to make some comments about the plans.
As Bodie hustled towards the restroom, an agent he didn’t even know, said to him out of the side of his mouth, “Doyle’s back.” Bodie immediately began to sweat – what if Doyle was unhappy with his list; what if he didn’t want to pay his fair share, what if Doyle tried to kill him?
Peeking into the restroom, Bodie breathed a sigh of relief because the room was empty, but the recently perfect plans poster WAS NOT. There were messages all over it, including a remark besides Doyle’s hint to Charlotte about the duvet. Some genius had crossed out the beginning of the statement and inserted GROVEL TO CHARLOTTE. Next to the note about cleaning up the flat, were the words: YOU ARE A SLOB! Finally, there was a notation next to the entire list, YOU’LL NEVER PULL THIS OFF – SIDES YOU’RE TOO CHEAP! The most explosive comment, however, was the grafitti next to Doyle’s name – HAIR BALL!
His plans, however, didn’t seem to have such insulting rhetoric, but Bodie suddenly noticed in miniscule print, THE BODIE EGO STRIKES AGAIN. Obviously some jealous turkey had written this. Bodie was preparing to walk away when he noticed a folded sheet of paper pinned to his side of the plans post. It had one word written on it, “BODIE”. Taking it off the board and opening it carefully as if it were a bomb, Bodie’s blue eyes bugged out as he saw the words,
YOU’RE A DEAD MAN!
Bodie closed his eyes as he realized who had sent this love note to him, putting a Cheshire Cat grin on his face, Bodie turned and looked around the room, “Doyle, where are you?”
“Behind you, you nitwit! Just what do you think you were doing, putting this trash up on the board?”
“Calm down, Doyle. I was just defending you. You know Anson’s big mouth. Well, he was maligning your organizing ability. He said you couldn’t carry out anything that you ever planned and that this three days of vacation was no different. It would end in a fiasco. I was just standing up for you. I told him that you and I had lots of plans for these three days and that our plans were all in place and everything would go as scheduled. Big mouth Anson then challenged you . . . uh, us to prove that we had plans and that we could complete them. That’s why the plans are on the board.”
“I didn’t tell you my plans so how come my name is on them and that it’s got HAIR BALL written next to it? You explain that in the next two seconds or your handsome face will cease to exist.”
Bodie was stunned by the vehemence in his friend’s voice; quite frankly he was stymied by what to reply so he prevaricated as best he could, “Gee, Doyle, you really think I’m handsome. Gee, thanks, I think it was one of your worshippers who wrote that, you know it wasn’t me because I’m one of your biggest admi . . .”
“All right, Bodie, that’s enough. You’re done for.”
Bodie closed his eyes, preparing for one of Doyle’s famous right cross or was it the upper cut that usually laid one out? Fortunately, for Bodie’s magnificent features, he was saved from an intimacy with Doyle’s fist by a voice booming out, “Just what is going on in here? I put out a call for you two 10 minutes ago; in my office now.”
Never had William Bodie been so glad to hear the Controller’s voice as he was at that moment. Grinning facetiously at Doyle, Bodie stood at attention and said, “Running all the way, sir.”
For the next hour the two agents endured COWLEY’S PLANS (which were always explicit and wouldn’t dare go awry) before they were permitted to leave. Both men’s features were drawn and pale as well as their shoulders slumped with the thought that for the next two days, they were to be conjoined as the Head of CI5. Cowley would be in the north at a private home having a set of vital “meetings” so he would be too far away to have his typical hands on the goings on. Doyle was grumbling all the way to the restroom as he contemplated what the next two days would be like. Why was it that every time there was something wonderful coming up, there was a price to be paid for that gift?
Bodie was equally depressed but being slightly more shallow, he was already making plans (like the organizer he was) to compensate for Cowley’s plans. “Stop grumbling and listen up. Did you hear Cowley say that we had absolute authority to call up any agent we needed to keep the place running at its usual efficiency?”
Doyle’s green eyes stared back at Bodie like he had lost his mind, “No, I heard him say that we should play this whole thing very low key. Crime was usually down during this time of year so don’t go causing any riots or anything that would cause the downfall of the realm or the Commonwealth.”
“Boy, you better get your hearing checked, ‘cause I heard a lot more than that.”
“I’ve told you for years that you keep hearing things, especially from your so-called birds who you claim keep swearing their undying love for you. The only thing I remember is that he said that we could have one more agent on call if we needed them, but that the back-up squad was to be sent out if there was trouble, and WE CAN’T MESS WITH THE back-up squad.”
Bodie’s smile became smarmy and sly, “Well, how about we call up Tennyson, you know how gung-ho he is to serve and protect?”
“What’s he going to do?”
“All of the dirty work, you dumb crud. We will spend our time in the restroom, enlightening our minds and eating ourselves into splendid gluttony while he handles everything.”
“Well . . .”
“That’s my partner. He’ll do all the work and that will give us time to complete our plans for our upcoming vacation.” As soon as Bodie said those words, he realized that he had made a major mistake,
he could see Doyle’s green eyes sparkle with anger as he remembered the “Challenge” was hanging bedraggled up on the wall. “Well, I better get going; I got lots to do before tomorrow.”
“Oh, no you don’t, WE HAVE TO TALK.”
Oh! Oh! “Now, Doyle, me boyo, what would you be wantin’ to talk to me about?”
“How did you get involved in this challenge or, better yet, why did you drag me into it?”
“I told you, Doyle, that Anson was maligning you and well . . . well, I felt I had to challenge his libelous and slanderous words and suddenly it became this bet and Murphy is our witness.”
“Murph? What you talkin’ about?”
“Apparently, he also has the three days off and he is somehow going to be our witness that we have accomplished all of our plans. I’m not too clear about that.”
“You’re not too clear about a lot of things. Do you think we can bribe him?”
“Murphy? That man among men, that epitome of principles and virtue?” Bodie stopped for a momet and thought very carefully and then gave a big grin and said, “Sure, no problem at all.”
“Well, all I got to say is we better win or your monkey face will look like a monkey’s rear end, if we lose.”
“Now, Doyle don’t talk like that. I tell you it’s in the bag. We are organizers-par excellence so what could go wrong?”
Suddenly the room was filled with agents led by Anson, who was very anxious to solidify in blood, if possible, the agreement between the two sides. Anson laid it on thick about the lack of dependability in the organizing talent of either ignoramus on the opposing side and he encouraged every agent to be at the Duck and Waddle on the evening of December 27th to enjoy the beneficence of Bodie and Doyle before the shifts changed and the poor slaves of the 24th through 26th took off for their just rewards.
Finally, the room cleared, except for Murphy who promised one more time that he was clean, thrifty, and honest and he would be there to judge their accomplishments and the report back to one-and-all on the morning of December 27.
Finally, Doyle and Bodie were able to head to their cars, when suddenly Bodie grabbed Doyle’s slender arm. “I’m planning to drop by with your pressie early on the 24th so I can spend the rest of the three days with that lucky girl, Jenny – if you know what I mean?”
“You’re a pervert, Bodie, and I know what you mean, and I’m tellin’ you one last time. We better win this challenge.”
“No problem at all. I keep tellin’ you be ready to drink on the 27th because Anson will be paying up big time. What could happen when you’re dealin’ with two master efficiency experts like us?”
Doyle said nothing, just rolled his eyes and started to walk to his car when all of a sudden he heard Bodie’s dulcet tones ask, “Hey, Doyle, could you loan me 50 pounds or so, just in case, and just remember, keep a positive thought – what could possibly go wrong?”
Knowing that his thoughts at that moment were not too Christmas-like, Doyle got quickly into his car and drove away.
END OF PART ONE: In part 2, we discover how everything goes for our two master organizers.
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Date: 2019-12-16 06:59 am (UTC)Thanks for the note.
Date: 2019-12-16 09:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-16 08:45 am (UTC)If you're not sure how, try this:
- edit your post
- check the tabs in the top right hand corner and make sure that "html" is clicked on
- find the place where you want to put the lj cut, and bring the cursor there
- copy and paste (or retype) this code <*lj-cut text*="Read more story"> (make sure to include everything, including the < > signs)
- delete the two asterisks in the code (they stop it working, but I have to include them so that you can see what I've typed - otherwise it will just work!
- hit the "Save Entry" button at the bottom - all done! You won't see the cut in the post, but it will be there in people's flist pages, to make it look shorter.
Here's a pic of what the edit page should look like (except with your story in it) (it looks the same as the new posting window), and you can see the htm tab.
You might not need the instructions, but I thought I'd include them just in case! *g*
Thank you!
Thanks
Date: 2019-12-16 02:36 pm (UTC)RE: Thanks
Date: 2019-12-16 09:35 pm (UTC)RE: Thanks
Date: 2019-12-23 01:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-16 10:54 am (UTC)Cool
Thank you for writing
Date: 2019-12-16 09:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-16 07:14 pm (UTC)Thank you
Date: 2019-12-16 09:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-16 11:02 pm (UTC)Thanks
Date: 2019-12-17 02:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-18 01:32 pm (UTC)You're so right
Date: 2019-12-18 02:21 pm (UTC)