My job was being a covert operative for the government or a corporation. I was sneaking around with my television's remote control, hitting the button at the center of the flower of channel surfing buttons and volume control buttons. The mission had me at the Colorado State Fair where I need to infiltrate something or other but I discovered my cleverly disguised gun wasn't working. A hundred people saw me, waved and were friendly while I sat down, opened up the chassis and discovered the firing hoses for the tranquilizer pins were skewed worse than Marty Feldman's eyes. A few seconds later I'm testing it out on unsuspecting people and life as a spy is good. Eventually the authorities spot me but I'm able to hide out in a big pile of potato chip bags.

I'm late for work and it ends up being a regular day of being a drone. Phone number listed? No one else sharing the home number, home or email address with today's account? Good. Like last week work is slow but around 11 a.m. the department manager Sourpuss announces everyone has to stop processing until 12 p.m. per upper management (i.e. her sister). I have two applications on my desk and I want to get them done except when they're complete it's quarter past eleven. Now everyone sitting around with their dick in their hand or more appropriately their fingers in their twats.

My lunchtime rolls around, I'm afraid there's going to be a massive layoff and I head out the door. My father pulls up in my car and says he's taking me to lunch. We're driving along and north Academy boulevard becomes Millburn avenue heading towards Morris avenue and Route 78. In front of the Millburn high school some chick in a purple BMW zips out of one of the condo or garden apartment complexes nearly cutting my father off. I look at him and smile because he maintained his composure and temper. The second I see his profile, he floors it and starts pursuing her. I begin a mantra of "It's my fucking car god damn it" among other expletives and demands.

Dad's quarry pulls off onto the lawn of the high school, drives down a hill into a parking lot. My father realizes following her would create more drama and actually stops the car. I get out and waddle down to make amends and explain that my father is special and touched in the head. Somehow I make her laugh and I walk her inside the building. Dad calls out from below that he needs a hand. He's lifting a big lawn mower over the side of the railing to me. As I'm helping him the girl comes out again with two fat black women in square badge uniforms. Since the players in the former Asbury Park by Night game didn't know the term and I believe raddidge was unfamiliar with the term, a square badge is a rent-a-cop. They bring up that there's a warrant out for my arrest regarding an unpaid ticket dating back to 1998.

Despite my protests and actually still having the god damned receipt of the payment to my hometown they maintain there's a warrant out for that ticket and they're bringing me in. The girl shrugs at me. My father is laughing his ass off on me saying how I'm fucked and it'll take days to get this settled even though my hometown's city hall is naught but a three mile drive. Fuck it, if they're going to arrest me for something I damn well better give them something to arrest me for so I leap on my father and start beating the shit out of him.