Gray Props Fox one

“Alright. Sir! I’ve collated this in a manner accessible to me, or my successor, in-”

“No. Hogwash!”

“Where’s Director Gina?”

“What part of National Clandestine Service do you not understand?”

Think.

“Ironsides.”

“Go!”

As I walked out the door, I couldn’t help but think my relabeled maps of the farm were more educational, and informative.

“Barn administrator!”

A title well earned. By intransigence.

“Daigle!”

“Sh.”

“Jarett. Jarett, this is Knives Chao. And Seth.”

“I’m pressed for time.”

“Of course! Maniamystery?”

He went off, and got it done. And later, after all’s well before Mideast, he nods off. With what? Whom? When will he wake! Body whatits!

“Gemtlemen. For National Geospatial, and seeing as we are at the capital.”

I raised my glass. Theirs with imported whisky.

“To the Queen.”

“Okay, knives. You’re not TSSCI, yet, so-”

“Have you ever thought if we were-”

“My word.”

My vomiting at a non-happening mid halt, knives was carving tongue.

“I mean, us. Men. Female bovines. Women, young ones, calves, clamoring over one another. For each precious extremity!”

“I will now!”

“Okay, we’re in Beaverton. Georgetown!”

“That way.”

Pt 1 state

“First of all, can I say, I learned. A. Lot.”

Admiral Ronny Jackson. King! Of all Corpsman Marinemethinks.

“Excuse me, Mr. Secretary, I- Bob!”

“Personable, and an excellent administrator.”

Fak newsDemocrats.

“Don’t hate the G. Eazy.”

Justin LeHew had provi

wip

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