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Authors: Sebastian H. Alive
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it and shot the dog which crumpled into a heap on the floor and lay still.
"What the-?" yelled Agent Two, looking up and staring in disbelief at the dead animal then at the smoking gun. "What did you do?"
"I got rid of the problem like you said." said Mr Defecator putting the gun away.
The man in the flat-cap sunk to his knees sobbing hysterically and wrapped his arms around his dog, burying his face into the animal's fur.
"I-I meant get rid of the poo not shoot the dog," gasped Agent Two incredulously. "Who said you can have a gun?"
"You did."
"No I never."
"It may have been someone else come to think of it."
Agent Two slapped his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes in despair.
"You killed my Baxter!" screamed the man looking up with tears streaming down his face.
"A slight misunderstanding and one for which the agency is deeply regretful." said Agent Two with a nervous laugh.
"I want to speak to your supervisor!" yelled the man hugging the dog once again.
"I knew he'd say that." muttered the agent swearing under his breath. "Sir, would you like Mr Defecator to escort you home where we can make you feel more comfortable?"
"With him? With the murderer?" spat the flat-cap man looking up.
Agent Two cleared his throat and leaned in close to Mr Defecator to whisper into his ear.
"Take him home and make sure he doesn’t talk. Block his mobile phone, emails and make sure he has no contact with the outside world. Sedate him if necessary."
"Seems a tad harsh," said Mr Defecator looking uncertain. "The man's just lost his dog."
"You killed his dog and after all he is a known criminal. Plus who's going to miss a wealthy banker?"
8.
The suicide bomber
“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, this is not your captain speaking.” barked the intercom on the plane. “My name is Agent One and I'd like to welcome everyone on BA Flight seven-six-five. With me today is a local superhero by the name of Captain Aeroacrophobia and he will be assisting me today. We are currently cruising at an altitude of thirty five thousand feet and at an airspeed of five hundred and sixty five miles per hour. The time is currently a little after three pm, and with a little tailwind we should arrive earlier than expected in London at approximately three forty five pm. The weather in London is clear but a little brisk so wrap up nicely on arrival.”
The voice on the planes intercom faded away and the sound of the airplane’s engines returned. The passengers resumed looking bored, some reading their books, magazines or watching the in-flight movie, while others were staring out of the cabin window or scolding their fidgeting children then escorting them down the aisle towards the toilet.
Suddenly the voice on the intercom sounded again startling some of the passengers who looked up in alarm, while many others just carried on ignoring it.
“What does that button do, captain?” asked Agent One. “It looks important.”
“Please don’t press that, sir.” replied the faint voice of the captain. “I think the intercom is still on.”
“Is this still on? Hello? Hello?”
“It’s definitely on.” said the voice of the captain.
Silence followed and after a few minutes, the voice of Agent One came back on over the intercom.
“Apologies ladies and gentlemen, I was looking at the instrument panel on the cockpit, slight oversight on my behalf but not as slight as running out of fuel mid-flight. The captain would like to express his sincere apologies and would like to point out that it was his flight crew that did the fuel calculation themselves and he had no part in this monumental cock-up. I know some of you will be understandably alarmed and on behalf of the pilot and crew I would like to ask that you remain calm and I hope you didn’t ignore the flight safety briefing at the start of the flight. For those of you not paying attention, please take a moment to review
"What the-?" yelled Agent Two, looking up and staring in disbelief at the dead animal then at the smoking gun. "What did you do?"
"I got rid of the problem like you said." said Mr Defecator putting the gun away.
The man in the flat-cap sunk to his knees sobbing hysterically and wrapped his arms around his dog, burying his face into the animal's fur.
"I-I meant get rid of the poo not shoot the dog," gasped Agent Two incredulously. "Who said you can have a gun?"
"You did."
"No I never."
"It may have been someone else come to think of it."
Agent Two slapped his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes in despair.
"You killed my Baxter!" screamed the man looking up with tears streaming down his face.
"A slight misunderstanding and one for which the agency is deeply regretful." said Agent Two with a nervous laugh.
"I want to speak to your supervisor!" yelled the man hugging the dog once again.
"I knew he'd say that." muttered the agent swearing under his breath. "Sir, would you like Mr Defecator to escort you home where we can make you feel more comfortable?"
"With him? With the murderer?" spat the flat-cap man looking up.
Agent Two cleared his throat and leaned in close to Mr Defecator to whisper into his ear.
"Take him home and make sure he doesn’t talk. Block his mobile phone, emails and make sure he has no contact with the outside world. Sedate him if necessary."
"Seems a tad harsh," said Mr Defecator looking uncertain. "The man's just lost his dog."
"You killed his dog and after all he is a known criminal. Plus who's going to miss a wealthy banker?"
8.
The suicide bomber
“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, this is not your captain speaking.” barked the intercom on the plane. “My name is Agent One and I'd like to welcome everyone on BA Flight seven-six-five. With me today is a local superhero by the name of Captain Aeroacrophobia and he will be assisting me today. We are currently cruising at an altitude of thirty five thousand feet and at an airspeed of five hundred and sixty five miles per hour. The time is currently a little after three pm, and with a little tailwind we should arrive earlier than expected in London at approximately three forty five pm. The weather in London is clear but a little brisk so wrap up nicely on arrival.”
The voice on the planes intercom faded away and the sound of the airplane’s engines returned. The passengers resumed looking bored, some reading their books, magazines or watching the in-flight movie, while others were staring out of the cabin window or scolding their fidgeting children then escorting them down the aisle towards the toilet.
Suddenly the voice on the intercom sounded again startling some of the passengers who looked up in alarm, while many others just carried on ignoring it.
“What does that button do, captain?” asked Agent One. “It looks important.”
“Please don’t press that, sir.” replied the faint voice of the captain. “I think the intercom is still on.”
“Is this still on? Hello? Hello?”
“It’s definitely on.” said the voice of the captain.
Silence followed and after a few minutes, the voice of Agent One came back on over the intercom.
“Apologies ladies and gentlemen, I was looking at the instrument panel on the cockpit, slight oversight on my behalf but not as slight as running out of fuel mid-flight. The captain would like to express his sincere apologies and would like to point out that it was his flight crew that did the fuel calculation themselves and he had no part in this monumental cock-up. I know some of you will be understandably alarmed and on behalf of the pilot and crew I would like to ask that you remain calm and I hope you didn’t ignore the flight safety briefing at the start of the flight. For those of you not paying attention, please take a moment to review
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