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defrogI am in a Harry Palmer spy movie of some kind.
I meet Palmer in an old car (something like a Morris Minor), and tell him I’m a fan. He is kind, but unimpressed. He tells me our “mission”, as it were, is to meet someone in a secure apartment complex. He starts the car and drives us there.
We’re both expecting it to be a luxury block, but when we arrive at the address, it turns out to be more like a YMCA dorm. We do some recon on the local layout. Palmer gives me the name of the contact: a woman named Mabel. She lives on the eighth floor.
I get past security easily enough and go up to meet Mabel. To my surprise, my old friend Animal is her roommate. Mabel’s mother is there too for some reason, so we have to make up a plausible excuse for me being there besides spy stuff.
At one point, Mabel is hiding behind some curtains with Animal, and I am pretending to hand them shower supplies to make her mom think that (1) she’s in the shower, and (2) she’s in there by herself.
The whole thing has the cadence of a cartoon, and when I’ve finally ushered her mom out the door, I turn to them and say, “When did my life become a Heckyl and Jeckyl cartoon?” It doesn’t get the laugh I expect.
And then I woke up.
Undercover,
This is dF
I meet Palmer in an old car (something like a Morris Minor), and tell him I’m a fan. He is kind, but unimpressed. He tells me our “mission”, as it were, is to meet someone in a secure apartment complex. He starts the car and drives us there.
We’re both expecting it to be a luxury block, but when we arrive at the address, it turns out to be more like a YMCA dorm. We do some recon on the local layout. Palmer gives me the name of the contact: a woman named Mabel. She lives on the eighth floor.
I get past security easily enough and go up to meet Mabel. To my surprise, my old friend Animal is her roommate. Mabel’s mother is there too for some reason, so we have to make up a plausible excuse for me being there besides spy stuff.
At one point, Mabel is hiding behind some curtains with Animal, and I am pretending to hand them shower supplies to make her mom think that (1) she’s in the shower, and (2) she’s in there by herself.
The whole thing has the cadence of a cartoon, and when I’ve finally ushered her mom out the door, I turn to them and say, “When did my life become a Heckyl and Jeckyl cartoon?” It doesn’t get the laugh I expect.
And then I woke up.
Undercover,
This is dF
