Clockwork Agent Orange
The theater room at the White House was quite impressive. During his time as President, Trump spared no expense to renovate the equipment and decor. President Trump hired a team from IMAX to design the room. The entire wall was a screen with the latest in sound and digital projection. When not in use, the wall displayed scenery from some of the most beautiful places on Earth, Trump Casinos and resorts as well as extremely high definition images of Trump’s wife in bikinis, that no one could figure out how to remove in the settings menu. The entire room, when not in theater mode, was full of arcade style games and pool tables; all of which were on the other side of the room and completely isolated with a hydraulic sound wall during movies with the touch of a button. All of this was “trumped,” for lack of a better word, by the full-sized kitchen in the adjoining room, where Guy Fieri was on hand twenty-four hours a day, to produce wings whenever they were requested. Trump paid him a billion dollars and thirty-five cents to be on hand at all times, for a total of forty years without fail, with an option to renew his contract in 2057. This was definitely where you wanted to be during the alien apocalypse.
Positioned around the room, were almost a dozen Secret Service Agents, most of whom resembled one another like carbon copies of Agent Smith from The Matrix. Two agents stood out, the lone female member of the team, Anna Naranja, who the other agents referred to as, Agent Orange and the dashingly handsome, Langhorne Atherholt; the highest ranking agent at the White House. Langhorne Atherholt, was a very big name for such a small man. In fact, Langhorne and Agent Orange were the shortest people in the room. A trait that probably helped mold them into the biggest bad asses in the Secret Service. Secretly, the two were dating; a fact well hidden from their coworkers, and easily missed by Tad, who was busy hitting on Anna as hard as he could. There were three windows in the room, all facing the north street in front of the White House and all three had Secret Servicemen in them, even though snipers were on the roof. You can never be too careful, after all.
Agent Orange was the lookout in the middle window; so naturally, Tad was sitting with his back against the pane, obstructing her view. He was going through his sure fire pick up lines in his head.
Gurl, did you get those pants on sale, cuz at my house they would be a 100% off. Gurl, was your daddy a baker, cuz you got some nice buns… Tad was busy firing through everything in his arsenal and didn’t notice her occasional glances over to the far right window, where Agent Atherholt was standing. Knowing her intimately, her look was all she needed to give him; he knew exactly what she was saying.
Can I please drop kick this asshat through the window?
Langhorne simply smiled ever so slightly, to signify he knew where her head was, but never gave her the go ahead.
He’s enjoying this, she thought.
“Do you think Guy Fieri can make us some chicken wings? I’m hungry, hey,” Lorenzo said.
“Don’t be silly Guy Fieri isn’t here now,” Tom the waiter said.
“No, actually he is here; he’s in the kitchen right now,” Anna said.
“Wow, you can get Guy Fieri to cook chicken wings for you during an alien apocalypse? I want to be President of the United States,” Tad said before returning his gaze of love back to Anna.
“You can’t be President; you’re not smart enough,” his brother Geoff said.
“What does being smart have to do with being President?”
“That’s definitely not a prerequisite in this day and age, and I mean no disrespect to the current President,” Tom the waiter said.
Tom, whose real first name isn’t Tom and whose last name isn’t Waiter, didn’t want to mention he had not voted for him in the last election. After all, he was being allowed in the White House, protected by Secret Service Agents and about to be served chicken wings by Guy Fieri, all while an alien apocalypse was happening; to complain would seem ungrateful.
“I’ll go alert Guy to cook up a big batch of chicken wings,” Agent Atherholt said and headed towards the kitchen, leaving Anna alone with the pathetic, horny twenty-something.
Not far from the White House, Katie and Rose were busy polishing off a few bottles of chardonnay from the wine cellar/sex dungeon. It was a far cry from watching an IMAX movie and eating chicken wings made by Guy Fieri, but considering it was the end of the world; they didn’t have it too bad off.
Katie looked at the gimp suit. “Do you think we can take it with us?”
“No, it won’t fit in our back packs and it certainly isn’t practical. What are we going to do with a gimp suit during the apocalypse?”
“I know; I guess I was just being optimistic and thinking it would be hilarious to take a pic of it, and post it on Instagram when all this is over. We might not even get out of this alive though.”
“Hey, you can’t think like that. We’ve come this far and I think that says a lot, considering we were unarmed. Now that we have weapons, are odds are much better.”
“We should probably get going before we get too drunk. I’ve got a nice buzz, but I need to be lucid enough to shoot aliens,” Katie said.
Katie picked up her back pack, along with her shot gun and Rose did the same only she had a Kalashnikov.
“This is the same weapon that First Husband, Mick Cage-Bacon used in Sex and the City and Death,” Rose said
“It’s a shame we might not get to see his new film, Sex and the City and Death III: More Death and Sex.” Katie said.
“Don’t worry Katie. We have weapons now and from here on out, it’s all kittens and dildos.”
Katie and Rose climbed back out of the cellar/sex dungeon and into the bar room of the Blue Oyster Bar where, “El Bimbo” was still playing.
Rose cracked the door and peeked out. She didn’t see anyone on the streets.
“The coast is clear; let’s roll. It’s only about half a mile to the White House from here. ”
They made their way down several blocks unchallenged.
“It’s eerily quiet. Where are all the aliens?” Katie asked.
“Maybe they’ve already came through this way and passed on. They probably–” Rose stopped in front of a Chipotle. “Omg, Katie you have to see this.”
Rose looked in the Chipotle window, and on the floor were dozens and dozens of aliens laying motionless.
“Are they dead?” Rose asked.
“It appears that way.”
“Maybe we should go in and investigate. Something or someone has killed them all, and we should find out what it is. These aliens may have a weakness, and if we can discover it; we might just be able to survive this thing.”
“I don’t know; what if whatever or whoever killed them, is still in there and decides to kill us?” Katie asked.
“I think it’s worth the risk, besides; we have weapons now remember?”
Katie and Rose cautiously stepped inside the Chipotle with their guns drawn. As soon as they were both inside, a pungent stench assaulted their nostrils.
Katie bent over and almost hurled. Rose pulled up her shirt over her nose.
“It smells like the toilets have overflowed,” Katie said.
Rose opened one of the bathrooms and there was a pool of toilet water on the floor.
“That’s exactly what it is,” Rose confirmed.
“You don’t think…no it couldn’t be.”
“What?” Rose asked.
“You don’t think that’s what killed the aliens do you?”
“How is that possible?”
“Well, I noticed on the way in, that none of the aliens were shot,” Katie said.
“So, your theory is that the aliens died, because someone took a massive dump in a Chipotle, which caused the toilet to overflow and the stench poisoned them?” Rose asked.
“Well, it is a Chipotle after all.”
“That seems a bit of a stretch, besides; how do we test out your theory?”
“We take some feces with us,” Katie said.
“You want to take some Chipotle food with us?” Rose asked.
“No, I mean we collect some feces out of the bathroom and put it into a to-go box.”
Rose was going to object, but Katie grabbed a to-go box and headed into the rest room.
She bent down and scooped up some poop with the box to avoid touching it with her hands.
“OMG, Katie, are we seriously going to take feces with us to the White House?”
“Well, it won’t be the first time there has been feces in the White House.”
“Besides, if our theory is correct, this crap box might turn into a pretty nice grenade, should we run into a large group of aliens,” Katie said as she hands Rose her very own fresh box of funk.
“I guess it’s worth a try, but I doubt we’d run into a large group of aliens. We haven’t seen any since we left the dungeon” Rose said.
As soon as the words left her mouth, Rose and Katie casually walked out of the door of the Chipotle, with their boxes of fresh poo. They could see directly in front of them, across the street, were at least thirty aliens if not more. The aliens were all huddled together, peeking into a D.C Wieners restaurant window; trying to decipher what the tubes of cased meat were made up of. They would be there all day wondering, like the rest of the world, if not for the amazingly loud slam of the Chipotle door closing behind Katie and Rose.
All thirty or so aliens whipped their heads around and focused on the two girls. Rose and Katie looked at each other with their mouths opened wide in disbelief, then back to the Inkaku, just long enough to shatter their eardrums with their screams. The aliens roared back and started across the street. Katie and Rose almost became horizontal as they dashed down the road.
In what seemed like an eternity, even though it had only been a few minutes, they were at the White House, but they didn’t stop. In fact, they didn’t know what the White House looked like from the North face. With no Secret Service Agents or no one else about, it looked like any other entrance. They ran right by the front door and were none the wiser. They didn’t even notice that the aliens weren’t following them anymore.
Rose instinctively tossed her box high into the air as they fled. The box landed nearly in the middle of the trailing aliens, and as it impacted the ground; the splash from it took out most of them instantly. They melted a lot like Stripe in that scene from Gremlins. Out of the entire group, only three remained unscathed. The Inkaku jumped back just in the nick of time and as the girls ran away. One of them aimed a device from his arm at Katie and tagged her with a dot of red light. A silver orb shot up from his backpack and away it went; flying off after them. The three surviving aliens looked at one another and nodded. The orb would find them and they would have their revenge.
Turning his attention back to the street, Langhorne focused his gaze upon a couple of girls running by. A pretty redhead and what looked like the human inspiration for the Furby. The redhead was obviously fit and able to run faster and yet was holding back, so her plump pal could keep up. Her friend, on the other hand, was definitely reaching her top speed and resembled a person in flippers, running towards the ocean.
Anna and the other agent by a different window, also spotted them and watched in amusement. Tad was too busy flirting to be distracted by anything at the moment.
Melvin was still busy categorizing his dick pics on his phone and had not been listening to any of the exchanges. Everyone had their cell phones charging, thanks again to the excess of former President Trump, who had a stash of phone chargers for just about any phone out on the market. Melvin was the only one who didn’t need one, because he brought his with him wherever he went. He wasn’t going to let the end of the world, stop him from his immature pranks.
Geoff was busy tweeting. Can’t believe my brother can’t even score during the end of the world. #epicfailintheapocalypse
Lorenzo, who recently divorced, is on every dating website in existence. He checked his FarmersOnly.com account. He knew a lot about food, but nothing about farming. He was not above bullshitting though, if it meant getting a date.
In what seemed like no time at all, Guy appeared from the kitchen, pushing a cart filled with trays of buffalo wings. He was characteristically wearing his shades and enough hair gel, that he would never have to run a comb through it ever again. There were barbecue wings, mild wings, hot wings, mango habanero wings, and every other wing that you could conceive; along with an array of dipping sauces.
There was complete silence in the room, as everybody went to town on the wings. Lorenzo was in heaven. Tad had to use about twenty napkins, because he was eating the barbecue wings.
Outside the world was falling apart, except for Detroit, and people were turning into fleshy Danny DeVito’s right and left. There were people who were scavenging for food and water and fighting for their lives, while Tad, Geoff, Tom the waiter, Anna, Agent Atherholt, Lorenzo and Melvin ate chicken wings made by Guy Fieri.
There was only one thing that could make this moment even more perfect. “Can we watch Sex and the City and Death on the IMAX screen?” Geoff asked.