Prelude: A Narrative of Prepare for [Something or Other]

Ever since he was young -- if he ever were -- there's one thing Smecker always remembers. His grandmother used to say: be prepared, be fucking prepared; and that's what he's always done. You can't be Smecker and survive the system without being prepared. So he's always been prepared, especially in occasions when a person is The Shit one minute, and be in shit the next minute. The more spiritually- and/or politically- correct will call it "the wheel of life". Smecker prefers to call it... Well, he hasn't got the right name for it yet.

Though not for the lack of trying. "They just won't give me enough time," he'll say, if you ask him.

But name or no name, it's no less true. Like now.

One minute he's on the fast track you can barely see him, the next minute it's 'hold on, not so fast'.

---

"What do you mean 'taken off the case'?" he asks. It's not even seven in the morning, and his life's already taken a turn for the dumps.

"It means exactly that. You're off the case," his Boss says, in that monotone drawl of his. "This is Mr. Horace Anderson, from the PR Department. He'll explain the logistics to you."

"Good morning, Agent Smecker," Horseface Underpants greets him before launching into the whole song and dance about how this isn't because any fault on Smecker's part. It's merely election year next year, he says. The government needs to put the correct foot out to the public, he says. And apparently, Smecker isn't even considered a foot at the moment. In the eyes of the PR, he's not even a limb.

"But I'm poster boy for your Diversity and Equal Opportunities at the workplace PC bullshit," Smecker says (merely in a self-defensive capacity, you understand). He doesn't sound too whiny at all, either.

"You're not exactly It."

"Not exactly It? Just because I'm one stitching short? Or what?" Smecker really doesn't whine. But right now he really doesn't need a reassignment, either. He doesn't need this one step back in his path. It's all that he's got for himself. Fuck anyone who's going to fucking mess with that. He really doesn't swear either. But certain occasions do call for it.

"No. Your emotional profile doesn't exactly match with our grand plan."

"So now you have a grand fucking plan."

"This sort of profanity isn't going to get you brownie points, Agent Smecker."

So, the story of his life.

"Don't worry, we'll take care of you," Boss says, escorting Smecker to his desk, helping him clear out. Smecker discreetly makes sure that Boss will be clearing out his half-chewed bubble gum and the sandwich that is only a stage away from being The New Penicillin. "There's still nobody better at this job than you," the Boss says, calling some junior staff to clear the mess instead.

Not getting your hands dirty, eh Boss? Smecker thinks inwardly. He supposes that's why the Boss is the Boss and Smecker is the one getting downshuffled despite there being 'no one better at this fucking job than you' (His words, not mine).

"But you're not exactly what we need right now." Boss is still talking, and Smecker still trying to listen out for his alarm clock to go and wake him up. Or someone to jump out of the bushes and scream April Fucking Fool's. (I swear I will manfully enjoy April Fool's next time). "But you'll be back here in no time, before you even notice you're gone."

How can anyone not notice?

The pretty and shiny service car is already waiting. The first class ticket -- one-way ticket, by the way -- in his breast pocket, poking tiny little needles at his heart. The 'eyes only' and 'to read' folders stacked on top of his 'personal belongings' box already screaming their contents at him. Reminders of his new assignment.

Boss goes back inside. The driver -- they can't even find a pretty driver to appease Smecker's raging anger (oh yea, don't think for a second he's not angry, but people at the bottom don't get angry at people currently sitting at the top. You run out for coffee and bagel and snag an extra packet of Sweet n' Low just in case) -- Well, the driver has the audacity to smile at him as he piles everything into the car.

He wishes the sky isn't so cheerful, taking the exact shade of blue that offends him so much.

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