Mound of Hostages

By Agent Weebley

Operation Groucho

We have a name for the next undercover operation!

I had an epiphany while sitting in the waiting room to see Dr. Sternum. I was a little early for my appointment and was quite excited to be there, as I hadn’t seen him in a long time.

It all started with a voicemail.

“Weeble,” he said, “you need de-briefing ASAP.”

It was unlike Dr. Sternum to leave voicemails. Normally, he would just hang up and I would call him back. So I figured it must be important. I called back, but got his assistant, who made an appointment for September 24, coincidentally, the same day that Mattias Desmet decided to enter, stage right, at Iveagh Garden Hotel in Dublin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lmKnu6EXIkc

Welcome Mattias!

Anyway, I was sitting in Dr. Sternums waiting room made of formica or possibly melamine, patiently looking at people, pictures, flowers, out the window, old magazines previously digested by readers, the receptionist and last, but not least . . . my de-googled phone. These days, I try not to use my phone for anything other than a phone. I downloaded an ice scraper app last winter, but it didn’t work too well. What a cheap office, I thought. A real Amateur Hour.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3aH7RtVSLI

Sparks had a mic' head pop off on their other video . . . This Town Ain't Big Enough for The Both Of Us. How odd.

Suddenly a buzzer went off somewhere close by and a lady got up from the next chair and left the waiting room. It reminded me of a video about conformity I saw a few years ago. I looked it up on NewPipe and voila:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o8BkzvP19v4

“Agent Weebley, Dr. Sternum will see you now.” I nodded and smiled to the receptionist, and walked on through to Dr. Sternums office.

I hadn’t been there in so long I had forgotten about all the walls and furniture being a mixture of dark oak and distressed leather. Dr. Sternum would appear shortly from a doorway behind his desk, exactly 3 minutes after I get a little antsy. I got antsy early to be sure he wouldn’t keep me waiting yet again.

“Weeble!” He tried not to show he liked me, because of the patient-doctor distancing thing, but I could tell he was excited to see me again.

“How about Operation BlueBalls part Duh, or Mound Of Hostages Redux? Which will it be?”

I was a little taken aback, as I hadn’t even thought about rallying the crew around a new Mission.

“Operation Groucho!” It just popped out. Why I said that is beyond me.

Dr. Sternum seemed unfazed and didn’t ask what I meant by Operation Groucho.

“Sit, Weeble, sit.”

I sat down, and then he sat behind his big dark oak desk.

We chatted about how Agent Dale Cooper and Agent Joe 90 were doing and how I was doing these days without Lucy. The subject matter slowly meandered over to The Tonn Ruray. Ah yes, The Mound Of Hostages. You took one of the members of the other tribe, and treated them better than your own people, and they took one of ours and treated them like royalty. That kept the peace between tribes . . . I’m not sure how we got back to Mattias Desmet, but it was good to see Dr. Sternum. Everything in the world disappeared for just a little while, as we laughed and joked about the fun we all had with The Mound Of Hostages.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WSiBvYodew8

By Agent Weebley

I heard a shuffling noise behind the door. I looked up to see a panel slide off to the side; a set of eyes now staring directly at me through an oval hole. Those eyes looked strangely familiar. They darted left and right, then right at me yet again. Probably making sure I was alone.

"Password?" she said.

Rachael, I thought. That voice. It is her! Does she remember me? Or is it another Rachael? Lovely eyes...

Rachael's Song - Vangelis - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OhgMDb9nGQs

It must be another Rachael. Too much time has passed. Best not to push the issue. I was wondering how she could still be a viable design after so many years, but . . .

"Well, Agent Weebley?"

I smiled. Oh yeah . . . "X."

The door creaked open, just enough to let me in. I squeezed past Rachael as I smiled impishly. She smiled back innocently.

"New mission, Agent Weebley?"

"Yes, Rachael. Any idea where Agent Joe 90 is? We need him."

She looked as good as ever. Curves in all the right places. Those lips . . .

"No idea. Maybe try to contact Mac."

Rachael closed the door behind us and we began to walk down a dimly lit hallway. Our footsteps reverberated against the panelled walls. The occasional sconce shone down to help our next few steps. A bright light was at what I assumed to be at the end of the hallway. It opened to a small garden. It reminded me of driving on Interstate 77 through and out of The Big Walker Mountain Tunnel, opening into the Virginia mountains.

The sun was shining and it was warm.

"Who is getting retired this time, Agent Weebley?"

I looked at Rachael, wondering what I should say. I decided to say nothing. She probably wouldn't understand right now. Maybe in the future.

We walked over to a small white enamelled cast metal bistro table with a couple of metal chairs. Probably fake. Aluminum. Yep, confirmed when I pulled out a chair for Rachael to sit.

"It's a little complicated, Rachael. I'd rather wait till I've spoken with Dr. Sternum about it."

I changed the subject. It was for the best. "How's Elon Rosen?" Rachael seemed nonplussed. She didn't reply. So much for taking that tack.

"I'm Heddinout, later today," I said.

"Dot ca? Dot co dot uk? Dot ie? Dot com?" Rachael laughed. She really wants to follow, I thought.

"https://heddinout.com," I said.

"Will you, will you still come back here, Agent Weebley?"

I sensed that she cared. How could that be? She didn't care for any others. Rick Deckard? Nope. Elon Rosen? Nope. J.R. Isidore? Defo nope. He was a chickenhead anyway.

"I'll come back."

I pulled out my phone and searched. M . . . A . . . C.

Send.

By Dr Sternum

A continuation of a blog called Operation Groucho is now happening here

I cannot explain easily, except you need to look up Bill C-63 in Canada.