Lincoln zoomed through the air like a small, human-shaped cruise missile, making his way back to WIPE headquarters as fast as he could. It was a little more difficult than expected, given that the only real clue he had to its location was a vague sense that he was going in the right direction. After all, it wasn’t like the headquarters of a super secret organisation was going to be signposted. He wasn’t even sure what the building looked like, having not given a glance backwards during his excursion to Detroit.
Suddenly, he came upon a strange complex of buildings standing in a desert-like area, most probably a desert. ‘Most decidedly peculiar’ is what Lincoln would have said, if that was the way he talked. It wasn’t often that people constructed buildings in a desert, and it was unlikely they’d gotten there naturally. Unless in this strange new world, people had developed a way to make buildings spring up from deserts. Who knows? Our hero certainly doesn’t.
Working back through his journey to Detroit, he calculated that it had taken the same time to travel from there to here as it had done to travel from WIPE HQ to the badger-ridden city. Upon further reflection though, he had to admit that he was totally just guessing that. He hadn’t really been keeping track. Thus could he not say for certain whether these were the right buildings or not.
It wouldn’t do to just barge in through the front door. If it turned out this was just a block of apartments or a movie set or something, it could cause serious damage and worse, high levels of embarrassment. For all he knew, this was someone’s crazy art sculpture, one that no doubt highlighted the stark nature of man’s relationship with his environment, or some such flimshoosh. Flimshoosh is a word they used to use back in Lincoln’s day. It’s true, trust me! What? I don’t need to share my sources with you! Get out!
There had to be some clue, some way of knowing for sure if these was the right place to be. Abe checked the walls, the windows, the doors, anything that might give some clue. Alas, nothing. This place wasn’t giving up its secrets.
Stretched for ideas, he decided to take a look at the roofs. As he floated higher and higher into the air, he realised that the buildings had been built in strange shapes, almost looking like numbers or letters. After getting past a certain point, Abe realised that they spelt out ‘3dIM’.
“What could ‘3dIM’ stand for?” Lincoln scratched his beard in thought. He racked and racked his brains, trying to think of a solution, an explanation for this strange collection of numerals and letterals. Then, as he tilted his head, he smiled.
“Of course! How could I have been so stupid? It’s so obvious now.”
He stretched out a finger. “I need to go to those buildings right next to it that spell out WIPE! I can’t believe I didn’t notice that before.”
With that little puzzle cleared up, he quickly flew towards the real WIPE headquarters. Finding the hole he’d previously used to exit, Lincoln decided to be environmentally friendly and recycle the hole into an entrance. Inside he found the Commissioner on the telephone.
“No dear, I’ve only been smoking today. Yes dear, I was offered a drink, but no dear, I didn’t take it, I was good. Although I really think under the circumstances it should have been allowed, I mean, how often do you get the chance to drink with a president? Yes dear, I know he’s a former president, but you know, he didn’t get to take his second term. I’m just saying dear, maybe he has to go back and finish it off or something. Oh, gotta go honey, he’s just come back. Yes dear, I’ll see if he’ll sign your logs for you. Uh huh, goodbye. Welcome back, Mr. Lincoln,” the Commissioner dropped the phone onto the receiver.
“Thank you, Commissioner. Forgive the little interruption there.”
“No worries, sir. Did you have any luck against the badger people?”
“Let’s just say I badgered them into submission,” Lincoln smiled drily.
“If it’s alright with you Lincoln, I’d prefer we didn’t say that.”
“Very well. Then let’s say I beat up a giant badger and threw it really far.”
“That’s a much better thing to say. I’d drink to that!”
The telephone rang. The Commissioner answered it.
“I was being metaphorical dear, I wasn’t going to have a real drink. And stop listening in on my conversations!”
He slammed the phone down. “I swear she must have me bugged or something. The Director will be along shortly, Mr. Lincoln. She’s just powdering her nose, or whatever it is women do in the bathroom.”
At that moment, they heard a toilet flush, and the Director walked out of the lavatory door. Abe couldn’t help but marvel at how many things seemed to happen at a narratively convenient pace.
“Ah, Lincoln, you’re back,” she said shortly. “Good. If we can avoid any further little treks off to promote violence against woodland creatures, I’d like it if we can get to the reason you’re here.”
“I’d like nothing better, Director,” Lincoln gave her a piercing gaze, “But first I’d like to ask you a question.”
“What is it?” the Director sighed, clearly having enough with this tomfoolery.
“Who are you really?”
“Why, I’m the Director of course!”
“I beg to differ. I put it to you, madam…or sir…that you are in fact, an imposter!”
Dun dun duhhhh!
No comments:
Post a Comment