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Above Top Secret - Operation Toilet Brush - WSF2023
page: 114
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The Pentagon, Arlington VA, April 1st, 2023.
In meeting room n.101, sometime between breakfast and lunch.
At one end of a long glass-top table sit our two renowned scientists, Tomik Gershwin and Gerry Glockenspiel; we’ll call them Tom and Jerry. In front of them a plate full of Krispy Kreme donuts and piping-hot coffee.
Tom takes a chocolate-glazed donut and chomps through half of it. Meanwhile, Jerry scalds his upper lip sipping a mug of Blend 57 coffee.
Tom turns to Jerry, “You know, Jerry, if we can convince the General of the science then we’re in the money.”
Jerry, squelching his lip in pain, “You really think so? I hear this General is real tough and doesn’t suffer fools gladly.”
Tom and Jerry open a red dossier marked “Above Top Secret” and thumb through the papers, refreshing their memories for their presentation.
Rather unceremoniously, the door swings open and we get our first glimpse of the notorious Five-Star General, Watt A. Shyster. He’s a wall of solid muscle, square chin, flat-top head; rumour has it that, whilst parading with The President on the White House lawn, Marine One almost landed on him thinking he was a helipad.
Anyway, back to the meeting room.
Following General Shyster was his trusty subordinate, Major I. Scribe. They both sit at the other end of the glass table; more donuts and coffee are brought in, posthaste. Although, the two Officers were much more interested in our friends, sweating bullets in anticipation of this momentous encounter.
Shyster bellowed, “Well boys, sorry, I mean esteemed doctors. What have you got to show me?”
Tom took the lead, “Well General, we are extremely excited to present our project, which we are sure will greatly benefit the United States's national security interests.”
“Alright then, blind me with science.” Shyster replied sarcastically.
Tom, hardly able to control his trembling,
“Ok, I’ll start with the basics. Our brains are composed of two parts, a left and right hemisphere. They operate at different amplitudes and frequencies, often working against each other and causing mental dysfunctions. My colleague, Dr. Glockenspiel, can explain this next part as it’s his field of excellence.”
Jerry stood and addressed the General, who was now looking more interested at the vulnerable donuts.
“Sir, I mean, General, from our research, we have deduced that by using binaurals, at different frequencies via headphones, we sync the two hemis, resulting in unleashing the higher functionality of the brain. In short, we can make people’s minds, call them souls if you prefer, leave their bodies and travel.”
The General interrupted, now rather excited as he leaned over the table to peek at the red dossier.
“You mean to tell me that you fry people’s brains and turn them into wandering zombies?” "By the way," turning to Major Scribe, “I love fried brains, it’s been years since I’ve had any. Make sure to make a note - fried brains for tomorrow’s lunch, got it?”
Scribe scribbled frantically, “Absolutely, very good, General, I’ll inform the cook.”
Tom, thinking the General was losing the plot, interjected,
“General, If I may just add, participants in our experiments are not harmed. The experience is overwhelmingly ecstatic. With practice, the out-of-body experience can be controlled, honed and directed. People can travel anywhere they wish, and in any time - past, present or future. Your soldiers, armed with such power, could theoretically enter the Kremlin and look over Putin’s shoulder as he plots against the west… and be home in time for your exquisite fried brains lunch.”
Tom was good at enticing people, latching on to what they most desired.
The General looked at Major Scribe, “You realise these two have invented the ultimate warrior! They have weaponised the human brain… well done! Very well done. He pondered for a while, scratching his rugged chin, and wincing his eyes, deep in thought.
“OK!, I’m convinced! I’ll make an army of invisibles… the Great U.S. of A. will be invincible! We will rule the world!
Turning to Scribe, the General implored,
“For your sake, I hope you wrote all that down, Major? Remember, we need to produce a 2,000-page report to present to Congress to guarantee our funding."
The Major retorted compliantly,
“Absolutely, I dotted every last i and crossed every t.” In any case, we’ll redact 1,998 pages… we can’t let Congress know too much of your plans.”
The General smirked, “I knew I could count on you, Scribe. You’ll soon be Lieutenant Colonel. Now, let’s go over the details again. I want to be sure that our two scientists have a lab at their disposal with everything they need."
"To start with, I want to create a platoon, NO, scrap that, a battalion… 1,200 men and women. And you, my dear Major, will command them after your promotion.”
“Excellent! To you the laurels of victory, General, or can I say, Mr. President Shyster.” The Major resorting to bootlicking and cheesy compliments.
In the meantime, back to Tom and Jerry, mouths agape and with glistening eyes, who couldn’t believe their luck.
Tom whispered to Jerry, “Christ, he went for it. Just look at him, he’s drooling at the thought of world domination.”
Jerry, worryingly added, “What happens when he finds out it’s all a load of bull crap? He’ll have us hung, drawn, quartered, fried in butter and served for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”
Tom, calm as a cucumber, “No worries, we’ll soon be rich and sitting on a beach, sipping marguerites, in some remote place that doesn’t have extradition laws. Wait, he’s about to speak; let’s see how much he offers.”
General Shyster was still confabulating with Major Scribe as he turned to Tom and Jerry and laid out his offer, dictating simultaneously to the Major, who started to jot down a list of what the scientists required.
“So, gentlemen, I’m prepared to finance your lab for the training of 1,200 grunts. From your presentation, I understand you will need some equipment. 1 pair of headphones for each trainee, let’s call it 10k just to be sure we don’t run out. Next, you mentioned Hemi's and sinks, you’ll have to make do with sharing a sink between two cadets and a Hemi for every 5, so that’s 600 sinks and 240 engines."
The General continued, "Finally, you said we need to buy urinals. I trust the science you laid out, and I have a friend in the sanitary industry, who owes me a BIG favour, so you can have as many pissers as you need."
Shyster concluded his offer, "Financially, you’ll have a 10-million-dollar budget for sundry expenses, with a personal one-off contractual remuneration of 2 million dollars each, paid upfront. Suffice to say, you will be entering an NDA agreement with the Government, and I would strongly recommend for you to take out life insurance, as accidents DO happen and often."
Tom and Jerry almost fell off their chairs. They were totally gobsmacked and couldn’t show enough appreciation to the General. They spoke out in unison,
“Oh, General, that’s incredibly gracious and generous of you - you won’t regret it. By the time we finish with the new recruits, they’ll be at your beck and call to do with as you please.”
continued...
In meeting room n.101, sometime between breakfast and lunch.
At one end of a long glass-top table sit our two renowned scientists, Tomik Gershwin and Gerry Glockenspiel; we’ll call them Tom and Jerry. In front of them a plate full of Krispy Kreme donuts and piping-hot coffee.
Tom takes a chocolate-glazed donut and chomps through half of it. Meanwhile, Jerry scalds his upper lip sipping a mug of Blend 57 coffee.
Tom turns to Jerry, “You know, Jerry, if we can convince the General of the science then we’re in the money.”
Jerry, squelching his lip in pain, “You really think so? I hear this General is real tough and doesn’t suffer fools gladly.”
Tom and Jerry open a red dossier marked “Above Top Secret” and thumb through the papers, refreshing their memories for their presentation.
Rather unceremoniously, the door swings open and we get our first glimpse of the notorious Five-Star General, Watt A. Shyster. He’s a wall of solid muscle, square chin, flat-top head; rumour has it that, whilst parading with The President on the White House lawn, Marine One almost landed on him thinking he was a helipad.
Anyway, back to the meeting room.
Following General Shyster was his trusty subordinate, Major I. Scribe. They both sit at the other end of the glass table; more donuts and coffee are brought in, posthaste. Although, the two Officers were much more interested in our friends, sweating bullets in anticipation of this momentous encounter.
Shyster bellowed, “Well boys, sorry, I mean esteemed doctors. What have you got to show me?”
Tom took the lead, “Well General, we are extremely excited to present our project, which we are sure will greatly benefit the United States's national security interests.”
“Alright then, blind me with science.” Shyster replied sarcastically.
Tom, hardly able to control his trembling,
“Ok, I’ll start with the basics. Our brains are composed of two parts, a left and right hemisphere. They operate at different amplitudes and frequencies, often working against each other and causing mental dysfunctions. My colleague, Dr. Glockenspiel, can explain this next part as it’s his field of excellence.”
Jerry stood and addressed the General, who was now looking more interested at the vulnerable donuts.
“Sir, I mean, General, from our research, we have deduced that by using binaurals, at different frequencies via headphones, we sync the two hemis, resulting in unleashing the higher functionality of the brain. In short, we can make people’s minds, call them souls if you prefer, leave their bodies and travel.”
The General interrupted, now rather excited as he leaned over the table to peek at the red dossier.
“You mean to tell me that you fry people’s brains and turn them into wandering zombies?” "By the way," turning to Major Scribe, “I love fried brains, it’s been years since I’ve had any. Make sure to make a note - fried brains for tomorrow’s lunch, got it?”
Scribe scribbled frantically, “Absolutely, very good, General, I’ll inform the cook.”
Tom, thinking the General was losing the plot, interjected,
“General, If I may just add, participants in our experiments are not harmed. The experience is overwhelmingly ecstatic. With practice, the out-of-body experience can be controlled, honed and directed. People can travel anywhere they wish, and in any time - past, present or future. Your soldiers, armed with such power, could theoretically enter the Kremlin and look over Putin’s shoulder as he plots against the west… and be home in time for your exquisite fried brains lunch.”
Tom was good at enticing people, latching on to what they most desired.
The General looked at Major Scribe, “You realise these two have invented the ultimate warrior! They have weaponised the human brain… well done! Very well done. He pondered for a while, scratching his rugged chin, and wincing his eyes, deep in thought.
“OK!, I’m convinced! I’ll make an army of invisibles… the Great U.S. of A. will be invincible! We will rule the world!
Turning to Scribe, the General implored,
“For your sake, I hope you wrote all that down, Major? Remember, we need to produce a 2,000-page report to present to Congress to guarantee our funding."
The Major retorted compliantly,
“Absolutely, I dotted every last i and crossed every t.” In any case, we’ll redact 1,998 pages… we can’t let Congress know too much of your plans.”
The General smirked, “I knew I could count on you, Scribe. You’ll soon be Lieutenant Colonel. Now, let’s go over the details again. I want to be sure that our two scientists have a lab at their disposal with everything they need."
"To start with, I want to create a platoon, NO, scrap that, a battalion… 1,200 men and women. And you, my dear Major, will command them after your promotion.”
“Excellent! To you the laurels of victory, General, or can I say, Mr. President Shyster.” The Major resorting to bootlicking and cheesy compliments.
In the meantime, back to Tom and Jerry, mouths agape and with glistening eyes, who couldn’t believe their luck.
Tom whispered to Jerry, “Christ, he went for it. Just look at him, he’s drooling at the thought of world domination.”
Jerry, worryingly added, “What happens when he finds out it’s all a load of bull crap? He’ll have us hung, drawn, quartered, fried in butter and served for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”
Tom, calm as a cucumber, “No worries, we’ll soon be rich and sitting on a beach, sipping marguerites, in some remote place that doesn’t have extradition laws. Wait, he’s about to speak; let’s see how much he offers.”
General Shyster was still confabulating with Major Scribe as he turned to Tom and Jerry and laid out his offer, dictating simultaneously to the Major, who started to jot down a list of what the scientists required.
“So, gentlemen, I’m prepared to finance your lab for the training of 1,200 grunts. From your presentation, I understand you will need some equipment. 1 pair of headphones for each trainee, let’s call it 10k just to be sure we don’t run out. Next, you mentioned Hemi's and sinks, you’ll have to make do with sharing a sink between two cadets and a Hemi for every 5, so that’s 600 sinks and 240 engines."
The General continued, "Finally, you said we need to buy urinals. I trust the science you laid out, and I have a friend in the sanitary industry, who owes me a BIG favour, so you can have as many pissers as you need."
Shyster concluded his offer, "Financially, you’ll have a 10-million-dollar budget for sundry expenses, with a personal one-off contractual remuneration of 2 million dollars each, paid upfront. Suffice to say, you will be entering an NDA agreement with the Government, and I would strongly recommend for you to take out life insurance, as accidents DO happen and often."
Tom and Jerry almost fell off their chairs. They were totally gobsmacked and couldn’t show enough appreciation to the General. They spoke out in unison,
“Oh, General, that’s incredibly gracious and generous of you - you won’t regret it. By the time we finish with the new recruits, they’ll be at your beck and call to do with as you please.”
continued...
edit on 18/4/2023 by Encia22 because: 101 checks and still found a type
a reply to: Encia22
...continued
The General had one more detail to settle,
“What are we going to call this Black Ops Project?”
Everyone just stood around looking confounded.
Not getting a reply, the General made his choice.
“We’ll call it Operation Fried Brains.”
Jerry, whispered to himself, "More like, Operation Toilet Brush."
Major Scribe, winced, and trying not to sound too contradictory, said,
“General, when, not if, the project is leaked to the sheeple via Discord, Reddit and ATS, I fear the name could be too conducive to figuring out what it’s all about.”
General Shyster, obviously annoyed at being contradicted, yelled,
“Well, what bright idea do you have?”
Feeling his promotion was about to turn into a demotion, Major Scribe saved the situation,
“No, General, I think it’s a wonderful name. I only thought that it would be stealthier if it were in French; my ancestors came from France and so, “Fried Brains” would translate to “Cerveaux Frits.”
The General, bemused by the foreign name and compelled by the argument, exclaimed its perfection.
“Wunderbar, my Gallic friend!” Once the leak happens, we can pin the whole crazy idea on that puppet, Macron… the sheeple and Mass Media will go to town on it, not to mention the conspiracy sites will go berserk.”
Tom gave Jerry a long, intense look, as if to say, “let’s get the hell outta here!”
Gerry nodded and whispered as they headed for the door,
“Shyster by name, imbecile by nature!”
Tom nodded back and added,
“Leave the dossier, take the donuts.”
The End
...continued
The General had one more detail to settle,
“What are we going to call this Black Ops Project?”
Everyone just stood around looking confounded.
Not getting a reply, the General made his choice.
“We’ll call it Operation Fried Brains.”
Jerry, whispered to himself, "More like, Operation Toilet Brush."
Major Scribe, winced, and trying not to sound too contradictory, said,
“General, when, not if, the project is leaked to the sheeple via Discord, Reddit and ATS, I fear the name could be too conducive to figuring out what it’s all about.”
General Shyster, obviously annoyed at being contradicted, yelled,
“Well, what bright idea do you have?”
Feeling his promotion was about to turn into a demotion, Major Scribe saved the situation,
“No, General, I think it’s a wonderful name. I only thought that it would be stealthier if it were in French; my ancestors came from France and so, “Fried Brains” would translate to “Cerveaux Frits.”
The General, bemused by the foreign name and compelled by the argument, exclaimed its perfection.
“Wunderbar, my Gallic friend!” Once the leak happens, we can pin the whole crazy idea on that puppet, Macron… the sheeple and Mass Media will go to town on it, not to mention the conspiracy sites will go berserk.”
Tom gave Jerry a long, intense look, as if to say, “let’s get the hell outta here!”
Gerry nodded and whispered as they headed for the door,
“Shyster by name, imbecile by nature!”
Tom nodded back and added,
“Leave the dossier, take the donuts.”
The End
edit on 18/4/2023 by Encia22 because: (no reason given)
a reply to: Encia22
Well well, I must say Encia, well done though you did not adhere to a fundamental precept of short story composition. The key to a good short story is to embrace the reader and slowly cajole their interest without sparking incredulity and here you failed miserably in this regard. You know, string the reader along without stretching their ability to suspend disbelief to the breaking point, I mean who ever heard of anyone, I mean anyone ever, eating about half a Krispy Kreme.
Well well, I must say Encia, well done though you did not adhere to a fundamental precept of short story composition. The key to a good short story is to embrace the reader and slowly cajole their interest without sparking incredulity and here you failed miserably in this regard. You know, string the reader along without stretching their ability to suspend disbelief to the breaking point, I mean who ever heard of anyone, I mean anyone ever, eating about half a Krispy Kreme.
a reply to: TerryMcGuire
Cheers Terry.
I apologise for falling short of expectations. I am a Krispy Kreme layman and underestimated the scrumptiousness and moreish quality of said delicacy. I will strive to do better.
However, in my defense, I felt that Tom was overwhelmed with the situation at that juncture, and the angst he felt prevented the donut from being wholly consumed. Also, I feel, some redemption could be afforded me, with the final line, demonstrating that I, and Tom, by virtue of him being a figment of my imagination, had not completely forgotten about the leftover pastries, invoking Jerry to:
“Leave the dossier, take the donuts.”
Cheers Terry.
I apologise for falling short of expectations. I am a Krispy Kreme layman and underestimated the scrumptiousness and moreish quality of said delicacy. I will strive to do better.
However, in my defense, I felt that Tom was overwhelmed with the situation at that juncture, and the angst he felt prevented the donut from being wholly consumed. Also, I feel, some redemption could be afforded me, with the final line, demonstrating that I, and Tom, by virtue of him being a figment of my imagination, had not completely forgotten about the leftover pastries, invoking Jerry to:
“Leave the dossier, take the donuts.”
Great story !..... I can assume you were in the military or attended some Board Meetings with the rich and powerful; where people do their best to
suck up, regardless of the facts...
a reply to: TerryMcGuire
Thanks Terry, much appreciated.
I intentionally made many references to well-known movies/stories. But, after a few re-reads, I'm finding more... must be subconscious or subliminal. The story did come to me in a dream state.
Thanks Terry, much appreciated.
I intentionally made many references to well-known movies/stories. But, after a few re-reads, I'm finding more... must be subconscious or subliminal. The story did come to me in a dream state.
a reply to: SprocketUK
Cheers SprocketUK.
You could be right!
The seed for the story was planted recently after being reminded about Robert Monroe's Gateway Program, so I guess anything is possible.
Cheers SprocketUK.
You could be right!
The seed for the story was planted recently after being reminded about Robert Monroe's Gateway Program, so I guess anything is possible.
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