He was happy to finally be retiring, he felt he had earned it after being at The Agency for so long. “Surely the Agency won’t fall apart without me.” He said to himself as he walked out of the door. “I hope he stays in retirement this time.” Said One man as he watched their Top Agent leave the building. “Yeah, the poor old shmuck deserves a normal life.” Said another man. He was finally free after all this time, free to do as he pleased. The only thing he had to do, the only thing The Agency required of him after retirement was to stay on his regiment and he was happy to oblige.
For months he stayed on his regiment and everything went perfect. He joined a gym, started taking photography lessons and even hiked on the weekends. Life was going incredibly good for the ex-agent. He had even started seeing someone. She was a few years younger than him, so they had a lot in common, they talked every night on the phone. Saturday nights became their date nights. Yeah life was good. It was Friday, time to go pick up his regiment at the drugstore. He knew he should have picked it up yesterday, but his workout session with his trainer was extra intense because the trainer had introduced a new exercise the day. So, he was extra sore and didn’t feel like living let alone going to the drug store. He walked in and headed straight for the pharmacist. “I’m here for my regiment.” He said with a smile on his face, he noticed that the pharmacist looked a little troubled. “About your regiment, it seems the semi that was caring it had a terrible accident, so we won’t be receiving it until Monday. Do you have some of your regiment to hold you over until then?” “Uh, yeah I uh do, definitely.” He was lying he took the last dose yesterday morning.
He went home, “There’s nothing to worry about.” He told himself nervously. “You’ll be fine as long as the Agency doesn’t call.” He went to bed that night but didn’t sleep a wink. It was now Saturday, he was supposed to meet his lady for some lunch at the diner downtown. He looked tired as he entered the diner, he had on the same clothes as he did yesterday and a five o’clock shadow. “You look terrible, old man. Are you feeling ok?” she said as he approached the table. Uh, yeah I’m good, I just couldn’t sleep last night is all.” He sat down at the table, the waitress came over. “Can I take your order, sir?” “Uh, I, uhm, I’ll just have some coffee…black.” “Ok, coming right up!” Said the waitress as she headed towards the kitchen. “You’re not going to eat?” his lady asked, puzzled. “I’m just not hungry is all.” “You? Not hungry? Are you sure you’re feeling ok?” “I’m fine.” “Are you sure? I can get the waitress if you like.” “I said I’m fine!” He said this in a tone she hadn’t heard form him, people were staring. All those eyes on him made him uncomfortable. “On second thought, I gotta go. I’m just not feeling this today.” He stood up took some money out of his wallet and set it down on the table and left without another word.
I was now Sunday, he still hadn’t been to sleep at all. He decided that taking a walk might help. He was about to leave when the phone rang. No one call him on the land line, it could only be one thing…The Agency*. He had to answer, even in retirement he was still an agent. As much as he didn’t want to he picked up the receiver. A voice came over the line. “There will be an agent at the park today, you are to meet with this agent who has further instructions for you. You will sit down on the first bench you see; the agent will then give you a slip of paper with instructions on it. Do you copy, Agent?” “I copy, agent out.”
He did as he was instructed, he sat down on the first bench and waited. Fifteen minutes went by, thirty minutes, forty-five minutes and nothing. At almost an hour he was about to give up when a woman sat down next to him. She said nothing she just handed him A piece of paper which read:
I am the creator of the multiverse, and I am a sadist. You have five minutes to decide if you are going to fuck Donald J. Trump or kill him. The decision you make is important, because the story from this moment forward will result in inspiration for a screenplay in a nearby universe that closely parallels the one holding up the bench you are sitting on.
My name is Nancy, by the way. Don’t disappoint me
That was a funny way to word a mission objective, but it was on the Agency’s letterhead, so it must have been legit. He turned to see if the woman was still there, but she was gone. He looked down at the letter, but it was also gone and in it’s place was a gun. He knew then what he had to do besides he certainly wasn’t gonna fuck Trump. That thought made him laugh, but there was no time for jokes only actions. He got up, put the gun in his waist line and left the park in a hurry.
It was now Monday, TAP! TAP! TAP! He’s awoken by a cop tapping on his window. He rolls his window down, “You can be sleeping in your car like that, buddy. I’m gonna you to move your car.” “Sorry officer, I’ll move it right away.” He looked around as he was driving, nothing seemed familiar to him. He pulled over and asked an old man sitting on a bench reading a newspaper, “Hey pal, this may sound crazy, but what city is this?” The old man looked a little puzzled and slightly amused. “Why you’re in Washington D.C. young man.” He didn’t know exactly how by he had made a 10-hour drive in 4, but there he was in D.C., the White House several blocks away.
He needed to find away into the White House unnoticed, just then a bus pulled up to the White house. It was a group of people who were taking a White House tour this was the perfect cover for him. He pulled up behind the bus and filed in right along with the tourists. Once inside he followed the tour looking for any possible way to get to the Oval Office and carry out his mission. Suddenly, an opportunity came when one of the janitorial staff went through a door. He quickly followed the janitor and overpowered him, knocked him out cold and stole his uniform and passkey. He spotted a emergency exit plan on the wall and used it to guide him straight to the Oval Office. He bursts into the room and there sitting before him was his target. He reached for his gun as he charged towards the desk, Secret Service agents opened fire, but the bullets seemed to go right through him as he made it across the office and completed his mission.
“Did you catch the news last night?” Said a man sitting at the bar. “I sure did! This loon broke into the White House and tried to assassinate Trump with his cellphone.” “Yeah, they said he was a skitzo off his meds or some shit. Poor shmuck didn’t stand a chance.” “Yep, caught a slug right between his eyes, poor bastard.”