It was a night like any other... aw, to hell with it. But for Pete Lattimer, also a CIA official, it truly was a night like any other. As usual, it was spent not showing up at the briefing for his current mission. Tonight, like many nights, he was banging away at a random female while eating a bagel. He loved bagels. He also liked banging random females. I love my job, he thought as he packed his briefcase and gun. He did, and now he had a president to protect.
He showed up to his assignment. His bossy and incorrigibly sarcastic partner, none other than Myka Bering, was there to nag him.
"Pete, you didn't show up to the briefing. Banging away at a server, most likely. That server, right?" She pointed to the exact server Pete had sex with earlier that night.
"How did you know? Did you look in my windows again?"
"I only did that that one time, and it was not a pleasant sight, so I never did it again. I just noticed that neither of you showed up with pants on."
Pete looked at the server's pants, then at his. Neither were present. "Don't you have a scrupulous eye for detail," he remarked.
"Yes, yes I do."
Uh-oh. Pete felt that something was wrong.
"Something's wrong here..." Pete said.
"How can you tell?"
"Well, whenever something bad's about to happen, I get really bad Pink Floyd songs stuck in my head, like they're on repeat."
"I thought Pink Floyd was a pretty good band."
"They were in their good years, but this song was one of their really bad ones. It's called Pigs, Three Different Ones."
"Oh... that must really suck."
A voice came on their headset. "Is Eagle clear to enter?"
Myka spoke back, "Affirmative, Eagle is free to enter."
Pete suddenly said into his headset, "Negative! Negative, hold Eagle until further notice. Out."
Myka glared at him, saying, "Get back to your post."
"Myka, the volume of that Pink Floyd song just went up 20 decibels. Something's off."
"It's only your pants that are off, Pete, now get out of here."
"I will."