(no subject)
Who: Maxwell Smart and anyone who feels so inclined as to join. :3
When: AT THIS VERY MOMENT.
Where: The main road, headed toward the park.
What: Max is very unimpressed with CONTROL's new developments. B|
Warnings: Uhm. Max speaking in code?
If there was something that Maxwell Smart hated, it was when everyone decided to leave him out of the new developments at CONTROL. Seriously, how was he supposed to know that there was some strange decoy entrance to throw off the CIA or KAOS or this week's threat?
And what was even worse was that there was no one to tell him how to get out. If he'd known about this, he would've just found the duck on the lake and gone into work that way. Secret entrances for the win.
Except not this time. The chocolate rain was starting to annoy him, too. That was another reason he thought this was a trick - he totally remembered some of the office guys playing a song like that. On repeat. All day.
'Okay, Max, you've totally got this. Be cool,' he thought. And then, if one was close enough to listen very carefully, they might be able to hear him humming "Cool" from West Side Story under his breath. He found it oddly appropriate, except for the part about rockets in pockets. He'd tell people that he didn't have one and that the line made no sense, but that was only in the literal sense. Because it sounded dirty otherwise.
He suddenly stopped in his tracks along the main road and suddenly spun around on his heel, scanning the area behind him, looking carefully at the bushes, and imagining that he had x-ray vision to look around corners. A secret agent could never be too careful about followers.
When: AT THIS VERY MOMENT.
Where: The main road, headed toward the park.
What: Max is very unimpressed with CONTROL's new developments. B|
Warnings: Uhm. Max speaking in code?
If there was something that Maxwell Smart hated, it was when everyone decided to leave him out of the new developments at CONTROL. Seriously, how was he supposed to know that there was some strange decoy entrance to throw off the CIA or KAOS or this week's threat?
And what was even worse was that there was no one to tell him how to get out. If he'd known about this, he would've just found the duck on the lake and gone into work that way. Secret entrances for the win.
Except not this time. The chocolate rain was starting to annoy him, too. That was another reason he thought this was a trick - he totally remembered some of the office guys playing a song like that. On repeat. All day.
'Okay, Max, you've totally got this. Be cool,' he thought. And then, if one was close enough to listen very carefully, they might be able to hear him humming "Cool" from West Side Story under his breath. He found it oddly appropriate, except for the part about rockets in pockets. He'd tell people that he didn't have one and that the line made no sense, but that was only in the literal sense. Because it sounded dirty otherwise.
He suddenly stopped in his tracks along the main road and suddenly spun around on his heel, scanning the area behind him, looking carefully at the bushes, and imagining that he had x-ray vision to look around corners. A secret agent could never be too careful about followers.