http://holyshitsnacks.livejournal.com/ (
holyshitsnacks.livejournal.com) wrote in
fandomhigh2014-10-03 02:03 pm
Entry tags:
How to Totally Be a Spy, For Real, Friday
Students today would be -- relieved? disappointed? mildly amused? -- to note that the well-dressed James Bund wannabe was no longer in front of class with the other two. But unfortunately for them -- or fortunately, if they took this class for the train wreck factor -- Pam and Cheryl were there like always.
“Okay, kids,” Pam began. “Today we’re gonna discuss something important. The world of spying isn’t all glitz and glamor, black turtlenecks and defusing bombs and drunken weekend threesomes that end with someone’s clothes thrown off the balcony.”
Cheryl’s. It was always Cheryl’s.
"Just 'cause I have standards," Cheryl grumbled, taking all the subtlety and mystery out of that one. "But, no, much as it pains me to say, Pam is right: sometimes spying is really boring. Sometimes all you do is sit on your ass and look through binoculars for hours, and sometimes people won't even fool around with you in the car because whatever you're waiting for is too important or whatever."
And maybe sometimes they threw your clothes out the car window because you refused to let them do butt stuff, but she didn't feel the need to add that.
“And what you’re watching is always so freakin’ boring,” Pam sighed. “I mean you try checking out the neighbors for a little amusement and none of them are gang-banging or playing with whips and chains or even having knife fights. So you just sit there in the car bored out of your freakin’ skull and people are just having breakfast or watching TV and you want to die. For hours.”
Pam had the attention span of a toddler. She didn’t react well to boredom, especially once there wasn’t anything in range to eat, fuck, or fight.
"So, when we plan for a stakeout," Cheryl told them, "we like to pack a bag of stuff."
(Guess how often they planned for stakeouts, guys? Hint: the answer is "not ever.")
"Things to entertain ourselves that won't take away from whatever bullshit we're supposed to be looking at," Cheryl continued, gesturing to the front of the room where they had an array of paper grocery store sacks (because they were Earth-friendly and pro-recycling, obviously) and acompletely insane and moddable collection of sudoku puzzles, snacks, a couple bags of what might have looked to some of the more naive students like oregano, a stuffed teddy bear, and one suspiciously-vibrating black velvet bag, amongst other things.
“Just be careful that you don’t get so caught up in playing with cool shit that you forget to keep spying on people,” Pam said. “‘Cause that’s the other reason you shouldn’t start banging in the car. That and how super-awkward it is, if you’re trying to be in the front seat so you can still watch things. I mean the gear shift is right there, and the steering wheel, and people walking by give you really fucked up looks.”
Important life lesson, kids. Sex was better in the backseat. Who said class wasn’t educational?
“Okay, kids,” Pam began. “Today we’re gonna discuss something important. The world of spying isn’t all glitz and glamor, black turtlenecks and defusing bombs and drunken weekend threesomes that end with someone’s clothes thrown off the balcony.”
Cheryl’s. It was always Cheryl’s.
"Just 'cause I have standards," Cheryl grumbled, taking all the subtlety and mystery out of that one. "But, no, much as it pains me to say, Pam is right: sometimes spying is really boring. Sometimes all you do is sit on your ass and look through binoculars for hours, and sometimes people won't even fool around with you in the car because whatever you're waiting for is too important or whatever."
And maybe sometimes they threw your clothes out the car window because you refused to let them do butt stuff, but she didn't feel the need to add that.
“And what you’re watching is always so freakin’ boring,” Pam sighed. “I mean you try checking out the neighbors for a little amusement and none of them are gang-banging or playing with whips and chains or even having knife fights. So you just sit there in the car bored out of your freakin’ skull and people are just having breakfast or watching TV and you want to die. For hours.”
Pam had the attention span of a toddler. She didn’t react well to boredom, especially once there wasn’t anything in range to eat, fuck, or fight.
"So, when we plan for a stakeout," Cheryl told them, "we like to pack a bag of stuff."
(Guess how often they planned for stakeouts, guys? Hint: the answer is "not ever.")
"Things to entertain ourselves that won't take away from whatever bullshit we're supposed to be looking at," Cheryl continued, gesturing to the front of the room where they had an array of paper grocery store sacks (because they were Earth-friendly and pro-recycling, obviously) and a
“Just be careful that you don’t get so caught up in playing with cool shit that you forget to keep spying on people,” Pam said. “‘Cause that’s the other reason you shouldn’t start banging in the car. That and how super-awkward it is, if you’re trying to be in the front seat so you can still watch things. I mean the gear shift is right there, and the steering wheel, and people walking by give you really fucked up looks.”
Important life lesson, kids. Sex was better in the backseat. Who said class wasn’t educational?

Talk to Pam and Cheryl [10-3]
(Don't ask Cheryl about her clothes, though.)