AN: Well, since you guys asked for it…

Disclaimer: The style of parodying characters from well-known series, as well as most of the characters here belong to Maxwell Atoms.

CH: 2 – What's With This Club? That's Classified

Joe stood calmly in front of the booth. For some strange reason or another, only a month or so had passed, and yet the gang was all here again, dozens of club booths up and recruiting students from Endsville Elementary. Why? Well. Not even the extensive capabilities of the Central Intelligence Agency could figure out what the mother of macaroni and Swiss cheese was wrong with this school, hell this whole town even.

Dressed in the standard 'suit' look, complete with the visible commlink wire coiling up into his ear, he had become infamous for freaking out passerby fans of the Matrix trilogy into running off to Nurse Pembroke's office screaming something on the lines of "There is no spoon!" Pembroke would then be forced to issue them some Prozac. That would make it slightly better for awhile, then the side effects would start to work, rendering it worse than before.

The Junior Agent paid no heed to this, of course. These conspiracy theorists were of no consequence, really. A few people had tried out his booth, in particular. Some found themselves on the wrong end of the preliminary personality test. Others would have made it, had they not done some pointless things like commenting on how bland or tasteless the design was.

Then there came some whatshername ponytail redhead who confidently snubbed his attire and fashion sense, or, in clichéd writing, lack thereof. It took him all of his strength to resist hitting her with the tranq gun and dragging her off to some safehouse where he could confidently snub her attitude, ridiculously high-pitched voice, and freckles… maybe ruin her 'pretty' face with a two by four too, while he was at it. The fact that she was class president wasn't of any consequence to him either. All bitches were the same in his book.

That was when the B-Man arrived to supervise the recruitment. Joe nodded as his boss took his place, manning the booth.

Mindy struck again. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but… don't I know you from somewhere?" She looked him over. Same crap fashion sense as his buddy, hair combed in a style that was screaming "LAME", inhumanly huge nose. "Oh, that's right. You're Billy from the loser gang. Where've you been all this time? Hanging out with some new loser friends?"

"That's classified," was the simple and curt answer.

"Oh sure, you say that now, loser," Mindy continued in that signature taunting tone. "But once I tell everybody here about how much you suck, then we'll see how classified you can get!"

Billy merely adjusted his sunglasses. "If you don't have anything better to talk about, Mindy, then I suggest you GET. THE HELL. AWAY. from my booth."

"Oh, and your club name stinks too. It just reeks of the word loser. I mean, seriously, what kind of a name is 'Junior CIA?'" She then promptly started to laugh her ass off. "What, are you trying to recruit some hapless kid into the world of loseionage?"

"What do we do about her, sir?" Joe whispered.

"Ignore unless absolutely necessary, Joe. Ignore." Eventually, she ran out of insults and left them alone, probably to go find and bug Mandy and company like she always did. Well thank John Connor that's over. "That definitely crosses Mindy off the prospective list. Who else do we have?"

Joe procured a clipboard and read from the attached sheet. "Candidates list has some four students left to account for, sir."

"We don't have time for this… There has to be-"

He was interrupted by that all-too-familiar voice, the voice that utterly oozed something that a random kid had long ago abbreviated into the convenient 'DFACC' – Dark, Foreboding, And Charmingly Cynical. "Billy, what the hell are you doing in that booth?"

"What's it look like I'm doing?" was the equally rude response. "You're a smart girl, Mandy. Figure it out."

The Reaper's enslaver examined the simple, to-the-point makeup of the booth. No fancy decorations, no gimmicks, no nothing whatsoever other than the sign and the registration sheet and pen. It was as prim and proper as Billy's new down-the-middle do and matching suit. The sunglasses were pushing it, though. "Gee. I never thought you'd get into the intelligence business. What's in it for me if I sign up?"

"You… don't."

That signature glare of hers found its way to its target. Apparently, though, those bloody shades had rendered him immune to her power. "And why not?"

"Because you're not on the list of prospective candidates." The fact that he had gotten into a verbal debacle with the possible replacement for Leto Atreides II was improving his ego. He wasn't the moronic -5 IQ nose picker that he used to be. No, he was a superior being, perhaps even a match for the one person to actually subjugate Death after cheating him at limbo. "Despite your... interesting… track record, there's no place for you with us."

"Is it because I'm too much of a security risk?" Mandy smirked darkly. "That's why they're called risks, Billy. It's a game of chance."

"And I'm not one to take my chances on somebody like you." He slammed his pen onto the makeshift table for emphasis. "Leave us, Mandy. You're not wanted."

She merely shrugged and turned around. "Alright, Billy. You win. For now." That was a serious waste of time. But she of course, already knew that. Any fool can grab a tiger by the balls. It takes a real hero to keep on holding. How this simple message from the late Mister Stark translated into her philosophy for the situation was probably known only to her, as she walked away.

"Sir… Why'd you do that?" Joe was surprised at his superior's performance. "Langley was hoping to get her into the fold."

"I have my own reasons, Joe, and believe me, one of these days, you'll realize that they'll be fully justified." He crossed Mandy's name off the list with a triple strikethrough. That's right, Joe. One of these days. I'm sure you'll understand. "Who's next?"

"We have Sperg, Puddin', and… Nergal Junior."

"Better to get their attention than wait for them to notice us, Joe. Get to it." Billy took a sip from his coffee mug as the junior agent nodded and went searching for the rest of the prospective candidates. Yep, it was going to be another one of those days.

To be continued? Maybe…

AN: Don't ask me what the hell that King excerpt was supposed to mean. After all, who knows what goes on in a mind like Mandy's? So yeah… There's another one of my two cents.