“Six years in the Army during which you served in Afghanistan. Four years in the Boston Police Department before you made Detective and worked another three years there where you were the guy who took down Wesley Nathan Bryant. That got the notice of the FBI and for the last seven years you’ve been working with the Bureau taking down the worst of the worst. And all of this has led to this moment where we consider you for the Agency. Let me be clear here, Mr. Simmons. This is a place for those who’ve earned it. And I’d say you’ve more than paid your dues. There is however one more thing…”
This was the sixth interview Simmons had been a part of. He’d filled out dozens of forms, taken a psychological test, and experienced a panel interview that was like being cross examined by Satan. This was the last interview and he was more than a bit sick of jumping through hoops.
“What is that, sir?” Simmons asked uneasily.
“What goes on here at the Agency is entirely classified. You can’t tell your wife, your priest, or your mother about it. What happens in the Agency stays with the Agency. Can you follow this one rule without exception?”
His interviewer got up from his chair. Simmons stood up. The two shook hands. Simmons followed him down a hallway until they got to a set of locked double doors. There was a 10-Key touchpad. The man said, “Welcome to Agency Base Jenny. Type in the number 867-5309.”
Simmons smirked and typed in the number. The light on the pad blinked green and something in the door clicked. Simmons went to open the door. The man said, “Once you walk through this door, NOTHING will be the same.”
Simmons nodded and opened the door. The first thing Simmons noticed was the waterslide. The next thing he noticed was that the waterslide seemed to actually be a beerslide. Then he noticed the naked women. There were dozens of them. Then he noticed most of the men were naked as well. He looked up and saw a large man who looked like the CIA director on a diving board. He was naked and finished off what appeared to be a joint before diving into a pool of Jello.
“What the-“ was all Simmons was able to get out.
The man said, “The biggest secret about the Agency is that we actually do nothing. Our federal budget pays for the greatest never ending party you’ve ever imagined. You’ll never work another day in your life. Here, whatever you want is yours as long as you tell no one else about this. The locker room is over there. Get out of that suit and have some fun. Like I said, nothing will ever be the same. Welcome to the CIA, the Central Indulgence Agency.”
Words by Jack Cameron
Illustration by Ossaín Ávila Cárdenas
About 15 Minute Stories
It’s good for writers to write every day, but it’s easy for life to get in the way of that. One solution I read about recently was to write a 15 minute piece of short fiction every single day for a month. You may not have time to do NaNoWriMo every month, but if you like writing, you can always find 15 minutes.
So for the month of January, I’ll be writing and posting pieces of very short fiction that I took 15 minutes to write. I’ve asked that my friend, Ossaín Ávila Cárdenas join me by taking 15 minutes to draw an accompanying image for each story. Ossaín is one of the owners of a local zine shop in Tacoma called The Nearsighted Narwhal.