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Bored Another Day

by on June 21, 2012

This week’s Trifecta writing challenge was the word “blue”:( a) low in spirits : melancholy; (b) : marked by low spirits : depressing.

***

“Here we go again,” Fillmore Streamlet sighed, as he reluctantly used the tiny laser embedded inside his miniature stapler to slice through the window. Fillmore climbed through the hole and looked about. Oh, look, there it was, a typically bland painting of a bunch of trees. This meant, of course, that it was concealing the safe which contained the latest round of Secret Documents Fillmore had been tasked to swipe. “Might as well have put a bloody neon arrow next to it,” Fillmore grumbled. He made his way blearily over to the painting, removed it from the wall, and began entering the secret code into the safe’s keypad. Then he paused. “Cyan,” he said bemusedly into his earpiece, “you ever wonder if this is all there is?

“Oh, bother, you’re not in one of your blue fits again?” Cyan said in exasperation.

But Fillmore was already on a tear. “Death traps this year: seventeen. Car chases: four, not counting that Segway fiasco. Martinis consumed while talking to beautiful yet oddly named associates of people with world-destroying schemes: fifty-two. Aforementioned associates I’ve had doomed relationships with: five. Really, it’s all starting to blur. Maybe I should take a vacation, you know, fly off somewhere, find myself. I’ve never actually tried to find myself, really. Never contemplated the universe. Never-oh, excuse me a tick.”

He put Cyan on hold and and walloped a sneakily approaching minion over the head. Fillmore sighed again. “Predictable.”

“Fill,” Cyan said, “you want to find yourself? Here.” She read off a string of coordinates. “That’s where you are. Also there’s fifty-two other minions trying to find you too. They’re five seconds away. Just so you know. You might want to contemplate an escape strategy.”

Fillmore sighed, retrieved the Secret Documents from the safe, and parachuted out of the window. Even as he floated through the air on his bright blue parachute exchanging machine-gun fire with the outraged minions, he couldn’t shake his lingering ennui. “So….predictable.”

 

 

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8 Comments
  1. to have a lifestyle like that and deem it ‘predictable’….i suppose after a while one’s job can become mundane, even if the job itself is anything but.
    you nicely deglorified the a-typical action film, haha
    but, well written. kudos (;

  2. It sounds almost like a midlife crisis. Thanks for playing with us this week. Please come back tomorrow for the new prompt.

    • I wonder if James Bond ever had midlife crises? I’ve only seen the Brosnan films, and he seemed to cope well enough there….

  3. That really made me laugh. The life of the fictional superspy *can* be a little predictable…

    • I imagine it would be….not that I’d know from personal experience mind you, I’m only a student worker in a library, and that’s nowhere near as eventful as being a superspy. 😛

  4. Well done, buddy!

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