| Humor Fiction posted December 15, 2014 |
  |
Short Story
Kidnapping Mickey Mouse
by michaelcahill
"No one's going to take Mickey away from me. That's what he told me and then he hung up the phone. I mean, you tell me for Christ's sake, how am I supposed to take that? Do I believe he really thinks he's got Mickey Mouse hostage? Or is he just some smart-ass who's kidnapped a kid and playin' psycho? Hell, I don't even know if he was talkin' to me."
"Look, Train, does it make a difference at this point? The damn fool has the upper hand. He's got the Vice President's daughter locked in a safe room and … this is the part I JUST LOVE, it's as safe as the virginity of an accomplished computer programmer. Whew! I just can't believe this. By the book. Get to the safe room."
Train just started laughing. It wasn't defeated ironic laughter either. He laughed as though he had just seen Lucy stompin' grapes for the very first time. "The kid takes her kidnapper right to the damn safe room, escorts him in, locks the door and makes him coffee. M-I-C kill ya real soon, K-E-Y, Y? because she's stuuuupid! What the hell are we gonna do, Sally? This ain't in the book."
Sally Roundtree barely reached five foot two with two-inch lifts in her boots. Every agent on the force had an unspoken duty to lie about her height. The fact was, very few matched her at any aspect of Secret Service duties.
Sally looked at the bank of monitors and then at Train who could barely contain his laughter. "You think this is funny?" She tried to look stern, but she broke at laughing too. "Ha! Like father like daughter except someone is actually noticing her. "
Train pulled a red and white kerchief from his vest pocket and wiped his forehead. "She' gotta be smarter. Hell, I don't think I'd recognize him if he were standing in front of me. Talk about obscurity, this one's more obscure than the dude that replaced Spiro Agnew."
Inside the room, a little girl played make believe with a man who stood a good six foot two with short-cropped, mostly grey hair.
The man inside looked at the monitor and then winked at the little girl. "This is coming to you live from the Acme Anvil Manufacturing Company." He looked at a different monitor. "We make anvils guaranteed to flatten any creature up to seventy-eight pounds. We'll come out and flatten your arch nemesis for free if this product should ever fail you." He looked back to the other monitor and winked. "Not that we've ever had to back that up. Acme Anvils never fail!" He smiled for the monitor and looked at the little girl. "Meep! Meep!"
Shirelle Love Smithsong laughed. "That's the Roadrunner. That's the noise that he makes. Qweet! Qweet! I'm the Road Runner. Hee Hee Hee!"
"No, honey, it's Meep. Meep, meep, meep."
"I said that! Qweet! Qweet, qweet, qweet, qweet, qweet."
The man rolled his eyes into the monitor. "Yes, honey, that's it, very good." He shrugged his shoulders.
"Some tea, dear?" He had the empty teapot in his hand and offered her some pretend tea.
"Oh yes, that would be lovely, Mr. Christian. You're a mite partial to cheese, I understand."
"What?'
"Ya know, cheese. You are a mite par tial to cheese ar unt you? Helllloooo, Mr. Christian?"
"Oh, you mean Mutiny on the Bounty. Yes, I am Captain Bligh. Will you tie me to the yardarm? Shall you be keel hauling me today. Arrrrggggghhhhh!"
"Call that fool. What kind of kidnapper is he?" Sally looked angry.
Train rang the number in the safe room. Shirelle picked it up, "Qweet, qweet?"
"Can you put the kidnapper on please?"
"Kidnapper? He's not a kidnapper. Hee, Hee, Hee!"
"Well, whatever he is … put him on, please."
She smiled, "They want to talk to you, Mr. Kidnapper." She handed him the phone.
"Hey, what's the big idea? You tryin' to scare the kid? Kidnapper? Do I look like a kidnapper to you? I'm going to need your names and badge numbers. Kidnapper, well I never…."
Sally started fuming, "I've got your badge number right here," she gestured in a rather crude way, "badge number my ass. My name is Sally, get a pen buddy, Sally gonna take ya in da alley don't dilly dally Sally…."
Train stepped in front of her, "That's probably not helping." He faced the camera, "Look, we just care about the safety of the girl, that's all. No one has done anything wrong, yet. Just open the door let the girl out, and then come out with your hands up. No big deal. No one's hurt, no one's gonna get hurt."
The man started laughing. Shirelle chanted, "Qweet, qweet, qweet, qweet."
The man joined her, "Meep! Meep! Luna meep, smeep, smeep. I thought I already told you, no one is going to take Mickey from me. Isn't that right my little mouse?"
Shirelle started giggling uncontrollably as the man tickled her.
The swat team showed up at this point. This was no ordinary swat team either. The White House doesn't employ second rate anything. Every member of this team was a one-man army. The hardware looked futuristic to say the least. They marched in tight formation in complete silence. Upon arrival, they broke into a formation like a top cheerleading squad. The leader, a completely square man, walked up to Sally and stood at attention staring glassy-eyed at a point near infinity.
Sally shivered slightly after eyeing him up and down. An audible, "Mmmm", could be heard softly, but clearly. "We have a 17390 scenario, agent. The Vice President's daughter is held hostage in the Presidential safe room. There is no access from the outside once the inner locks are engaged. They have been engaged. We believe the perp to be mentally unstable, though he has not harmed the victim."
The agent made no acknowledgement. He spoke, "Microphone."
Sally pointed to the intercom in the wall near the entrance.
He nodded and approached it. He pushed the button in and spoke, "We will be extracting the girl shortly. You may avoid imminent death by opening the door immediately and allowing the girl to exit on her own. You have ten seconds." He nodded to the formation of men who broke into action.
A torch burned a hole in the wall and sparks flew as a fiery line slowly made its way down the wall. The remaining agents set up at different angles with their weapons drawn. Everything from hand held pistols to flame throwers was trained on the door to the safe room as the cutting continued.
The intercom crackled. "What in the hell do you think you're doing? Get the President! He's not going to like this." The man could be seen inside the safe room in an agitated state now.
Sally looked the lead agent. "Isn't this endangering the hostage?"
"No ma'am. Under the circumstances it is a given that the hostage will perish. Rather than waste everyone's time, we are speeding this along."
Sally turned a strange color, it wasn't quite red. "That's your solution? You idiot! Your solution is to kill everyone in the room so you don't waste your precious time. It's the Vice Presidents daughter. Don't you think he'll be moderately PISSED when he discovers your solution?"
"Frankly ma'am, I've never met him and wouldn't know him if I saw him. He's just a name plate on an empty office to me." He started to turn towards his men.
Sally looked angrier than anyone living had seen her. She grabbed the agent's wrist and dropped down quickly to the ground pulling him with her. Somehow, she sent him sailing over her head into the wall. The other agents paid no notice and kept to their tasks. Sally grabbed them one at a time performing the same maneuver on each.
Finally, the remaining agents deemed her a threat and began to fight back. They all ended up in the agents' pile near the wall.
The President walked in at this point. "What the hell is going on here?"
Sally reached for the President's wrist and just before she grabbed it, a feeling of sanity returned to her. "Mr. President. We have a 17390 scenario in progress. A man has locked himself in the Presidential safe room with the Vice-President's daughter. I felt the actions of the Secret Service to be too aggressive so I utilized a modicum of force to disengage them from their activities, sir."
"I see." He walked over to the monitor and observed the man and girl who both waved at him. "Have you spoken with him? The little girl seems happy with his company." He spoke into the intercom. "Are you okay, Shirelle?"
"Of course." She turned to the man with her, "What's wrong with everyone? Don't they recognize you, Daddy?"
"No one's going to take Mickey away from me. That's what he told me and then he hung up the phone. I mean, you tell me for Christ's sake, how am I supposed to take that? Do I believe he really thinks he's got Mickey Mouse hostage? Or is he just some smart-ass who's kidnapped a kid and playin' psycho? Hell, I don't even know if he was talkin' to me."
"Look, Train, does it make a difference at this point? The damn fool has the upper hand. He's got the Vice President's daughter locked in a safe room and … this is the part I JUST LOVE, it's as safe as the virginity of an accomplished computer programmer. Whew! I just can't believe this. By the book. Get to the safe room."
Train just started laughing. It wasn't defeated ironic laughter either. He laughed as though he had just seen Lucy stompin' grapes for the very first time. "The kid takes her kidnapper right to the damn safe room, escorts him in, locks the door and makes him coffee. M-I-C kill ya real soon, K-E-Y, Y? because she's stuuuupid! What the hell are we gonna do, Sally? This ain't in the book."
Sally Roundtree barely reached five foot two with two-inch lifts in her boots. Every agent on the force had an unspoken duty to lie about her height. The fact was, very few matched her at any aspect of Secret Service duties.
Sally looked at the bank of monitors and then at Train who could barely contain his laughter. "You think this is funny?" She tried to look stern, but she broke at laughing too. "Ha! Like father like daughter except someone is actually noticing her. "
Train pulled a red and white kerchief from his vest pocket and wiped his forehead. "She' gotta be smarter. Hell, I don't think I'd recognize him if he were standing in front of me. Talk about obscurity, this one's more obscure than the dude that replaced Spiro Agnew."
Inside the room, a little girl played make believe with a man who stood a good six foot two with short-cropped, mostly grey hair.
The man inside looked at the monitor and then winked at the little girl. "This is coming to you live from the Acme Anvil Manufacturing Company." He looked at a different monitor. "We make anvils guaranteed to flatten any creature up to seventy-eight pounds. We'll come out and flatten your arch nemesis for free if this product should ever fail you." He looked back to the other monitor and winked. "Not that we've ever had to back that up. Acme Anvils never fail!" He smiled for the monitor and looked at the little girl. "Meep! Meep!"
Shirelle Love Smithsong laughed. "That's the Roadrunner. That's the noise that he makes. Qweet! Qweet! I'm the Road Runner. Hee Hee Hee!"
"No, honey, it's Meep. Meep, meep, meep."
"I said that! Qweet! Qweet, qweet, qweet, qweet, qweet."
The man rolled his eyes into the monitor. "Yes, honey, that's it, very good." He shrugged his shoulders.
"Some tea, dear?" He had the empty teapot in his hand and offered her some pretend tea.
"Oh yes, that would be lovely, Mr. Christian. You're a mite partial to cheese, I understand."
"What?'
"Ya know, cheese. You are a mite par tial to cheese ar unt you? Helllloooo, Mr. Christian?"
"Oh, you mean Mutiny on the Bounty. Yes, I am Captain Bligh. Will you tie me to the yardarm? Shall you be keel hauling me today. Arrrrggggghhhhh!"
"Call that fool. What kind of kidnapper is he?" Sally looked angry.
Train rang the number in the safe room. Shirelle picked it up, "Qweet, qweet?"
"Can you put the kidnapper on please?"
"Kidnapper? He's not a kidnapper. Hee, Hee, Hee!"
"Well, whatever he is … put him on, please."
She smiled, "They want to talk to you, Mr. Kidnapper." She handed him the phone.
"Hey, what's the big idea? You tryin' to scare the kid? Kidnapper? Do I look like a kidnapper to you? I'm going to need your names and badge numbers. Kidnapper, well I never…."
Sally started fuming, "I've got your badge number right here," she gestured in a rather crude way, "badge number my ass. My name is Sally, get a pen buddy, Sally gonna take ya in da alley don't dilly dally Sally…."
Train stepped in front of her, "That's probably not helping." He faced the camera, "Look, we just care about the safety of the girl, that's all. No one has done anything wrong, yet. Just open the door let the girl out, and then come out with your hands up. No big deal. No one's hurt, no one's gonna get hurt."
The man started laughing. Shirelle chanted, "Qweet, qweet, qweet, qweet."
The man joined her, "Meep! Meep! Luna meep, smeep, smeep. I thought I already told you, no one is going to take Mickey from me. Isn't that right my little mouse?"
Shirelle started giggling uncontrollably as the man tickled her.
The swat team showed up at this point. This was no ordinary swat team either. The White House doesn't employ second rate anything. Every member of this team was a one-man army. The hardware looked futuristic to say the least. They marched in tight formation in complete silence. Upon arrival, they broke into a formation like a top cheerleading squad. The leader, a completely square man, walked up to Sally and stood at attention staring glassy-eyed at a point near infinity.
Sally shivered slightly after eyeing him up and down. An audible, "Mmmm", could be heard softly, but clearly. "We have a 17390 scenario, agent. The Vice President's daughter is held hostage in the Presidential safe room. There is no access from the outside once the inner locks are engaged. They have been engaged. We believe the perp to be mentally unstable, though he has not harmed the victim."
The agent made no acknowledgement. He spoke, "Microphone."
Sally pointed to the intercom in the wall near the entrance.
He nodded and approached it. He pushed the button in and spoke, "We will be extracting the girl shortly. You may avoid imminent death by opening the door immediately and allowing the girl to exit on her own. You have ten seconds." He nodded to the formation of men who broke into action.
A torch burned a hole in the wall and sparks flew as a fiery line slowly made its way down the wall. The remaining agents set up at different angles with their weapons drawn. Everything from hand held pistols to flame throwers was trained on the door to the safe room as the cutting continued.
The intercom crackled. "What in the hell do you think you're doing? Get the President! He's not going to like this." The man could be seen inside the safe room in an agitated state now.
Sally looked the lead agent. "Isn't this endangering the hostage?"
"No ma'am. Under the circumstances it is a given that the hostage will perish. Rather than waste everyone's time, we are speeding this along."
Sally turned a strange color, it wasn't quite red. "That's your solution? You idiot! Your solution is to kill everyone in the room so you don't waste your precious time. It's the Vice Presidents daughter. Don't you think he'll be moderately PISSED when he discovers your solution?"
"Frankly ma'am, I've never met him and wouldn't know him if I saw him. He's just a name plate on an empty office to me." He started to turn towards his men.
Sally looked angrier than anyone living had seen her. She grabbed the agent's wrist and dropped down quickly to the ground pulling him with her. Somehow, she sent him sailing over her head into the wall. The other agents paid no notice and kept to their tasks. Sally grabbed them one at a time performing the same maneuver on each.
Finally, the remaining agents deemed her a threat and began to fight back. They all ended up in the agents' pile near the wall.
The President walked in at this point. "What the hell is going on here?"
Sally reached for the President's wrist and just before she grabbed it, a feeling of sanity returned to her. "Mr. President. We have a 17390 scenario in progress. A man has locked himself in the Presidential safe room with the Vice-President's daughter. I felt the actions of the Secret Service to be too aggressive so I utilized a modicum of force to disengage them from their activities, sir."
"I see." He walked over to the monitor and observed the man and girl who both waved at him. "Have you spoken with him? The little girl seems happy with his company." He spoke into the intercom. "Are you okay, Shirelle?"
"Of course." She turned to the man with her, "What's wrong with everyone? Don't they recognize you, Daddy?"
"Look, Train, does it make a difference at this point? The damn fool has the upper hand. He's got the Vice President's daughter locked in a safe room and … this is the part I JUST LOVE, it's as safe as the virginity of an accomplished computer programmer. Whew! I just can't believe this. By the book. Get to the safe room."
Train just started laughing. It wasn't defeated ironic laughter either. He laughed as though he had just seen Lucy stompin' grapes for the very first time. "The kid takes her kidnapper right to the damn safe room, escorts him in, locks the door and makes him coffee. M-I-C kill ya real soon, K-E-Y, Y? because she's stuuuupid! What the hell are we gonna do, Sally? This ain't in the book."
Sally Roundtree barely reached five foot two with two-inch lifts in her boots. Every agent on the force had an unspoken duty to lie about her height. The fact was, very few matched her at any aspect of Secret Service duties.
Sally looked at the bank of monitors and then at Train who could barely contain his laughter. "You think this is funny?" She tried to look stern, but she broke at laughing too. "Ha! Like father like daughter except someone is actually noticing her. "
Train pulled a red and white kerchief from his vest pocket and wiped his forehead. "She' gotta be smarter. Hell, I don't think I'd recognize him if he were standing in front of me. Talk about obscurity, this one's more obscure than the dude that replaced Spiro Agnew."
Inside the room, a little girl played make believe with a man who stood a good six foot two with short-cropped, mostly grey hair.
The man inside looked at the monitor and then winked at the little girl. "This is coming to you live from the Acme Anvil Manufacturing Company." He looked at a different monitor. "We make anvils guaranteed to flatten any creature up to seventy-eight pounds. We'll come out and flatten your arch nemesis for free if this product should ever fail you." He looked back to the other monitor and winked. "Not that we've ever had to back that up. Acme Anvils never fail!" He smiled for the monitor and looked at the little girl. "Meep! Meep!"
Shirelle Love Smithsong laughed. "That's the Roadrunner. That's the noise that he makes. Qweet! Qweet! I'm the Road Runner. Hee Hee Hee!"
"No, honey, it's Meep. Meep, meep, meep."
"I said that! Qweet! Qweet, qweet, qweet, qweet, qweet."
The man rolled his eyes into the monitor. "Yes, honey, that's it, very good." He shrugged his shoulders.
"Some tea, dear?" He had the empty teapot in his hand and offered her some pretend tea.
"Oh yes, that would be lovely, Mr. Christian. You're a mite partial to cheese, I understand."
"What?'
"Ya know, cheese. You are a mite par tial to cheese ar unt you? Helllloooo, Mr. Christian?"
"Oh, you mean Mutiny on the Bounty. Yes, I am Captain Bligh. Will you tie me to the yardarm? Shall you be keel hauling me today. Arrrrggggghhhhh!"
"Call that fool. What kind of kidnapper is he?" Sally looked angry.
Train rang the number in the safe room. Shirelle picked it up, "Qweet, qweet?"
"Can you put the kidnapper on please?"
"Kidnapper? He's not a kidnapper. Hee, Hee, Hee!"
"Well, whatever he is … put him on, please."
She smiled, "They want to talk to you, Mr. Kidnapper." She handed him the phone.
"Hey, what's the big idea? You tryin' to scare the kid? Kidnapper? Do I look like a kidnapper to you? I'm going to need your names and badge numbers. Kidnapper, well I never…."
Sally started fuming, "I've got your badge number right here," she gestured in a rather crude way, "badge number my ass. My name is Sally, get a pen buddy, Sally gonna take ya in da alley don't dilly dally Sally…."
Train stepped in front of her, "That's probably not helping." He faced the camera, "Look, we just care about the safety of the girl, that's all. No one has done anything wrong, yet. Just open the door let the girl out, and then come out with your hands up. No big deal. No one's hurt, no one's gonna get hurt."
The man started laughing. Shirelle chanted, "Qweet, qweet, qweet, qweet."
The man joined her, "Meep! Meep! Luna meep, smeep, smeep. I thought I already told you, no one is going to take Mickey from me. Isn't that right my little mouse?"
Shirelle started giggling uncontrollably as the man tickled her.
The swat team showed up at this point. This was no ordinary swat team either. The White House doesn't employ second rate anything. Every member of this team was a one-man army. The hardware looked futuristic to say the least. They marched in tight formation in complete silence. Upon arrival, they broke into a formation like a top cheerleading squad. The leader, a completely square man, walked up to Sally and stood at attention staring glassy-eyed at a point near infinity.
Sally shivered slightly after eyeing him up and down. An audible, "Mmmm", could be heard softly, but clearly. "We have a 17390 scenario, agent. The Vice President's daughter is held hostage in the Presidential safe room. There is no access from the outside once the inner locks are engaged. They have been engaged. We believe the perp to be mentally unstable, though he has not harmed the victim."
The agent made no acknowledgement. He spoke, "Microphone."
Sally pointed to the intercom in the wall near the entrance.
He nodded and approached it. He pushed the button in and spoke, "We will be extracting the girl shortly. You may avoid imminent death by opening the door immediately and allowing the girl to exit on her own. You have ten seconds." He nodded to the formation of men who broke into action.
A torch burned a hole in the wall and sparks flew as a fiery line slowly made its way down the wall. The remaining agents set up at different angles with their weapons drawn. Everything from hand held pistols to flame throwers was trained on the door to the safe room as the cutting continued.
The intercom crackled. "What in the hell do you think you're doing? Get the President! He's not going to like this." The man could be seen inside the safe room in an agitated state now.
Sally looked the lead agent. "Isn't this endangering the hostage?"
"No ma'am. Under the circumstances it is a given that the hostage will perish. Rather than waste everyone's time, we are speeding this along."
Sally turned a strange color, it wasn't quite red. "That's your solution? You idiot! Your solution is to kill everyone in the room so you don't waste your precious time. It's the Vice Presidents daughter. Don't you think he'll be moderately PISSED when he discovers your solution?"
"Frankly ma'am, I've never met him and wouldn't know him if I saw him. He's just a name plate on an empty office to me." He started to turn towards his men.
Sally looked angrier than anyone living had seen her. She grabbed the agent's wrist and dropped down quickly to the ground pulling him with her. Somehow, she sent him sailing over her head into the wall. The other agents paid no notice and kept to their tasks. Sally grabbed them one at a time performing the same maneuver on each.
Finally, the remaining agents deemed her a threat and began to fight back. They all ended up in the agents' pile near the wall.
The President walked in at this point. "What the hell is going on here?"
Sally reached for the President's wrist and just before she grabbed it, a feeling of sanity returned to her. "Mr. President. We have a 17390 scenario in progress. A man has locked himself in the Presidential safe room with the Vice-President's daughter. I felt the actions of the Secret Service to be too aggressive so I utilized a modicum of force to disengage them from their activities, sir."
"I see." He walked over to the monitor and observed the man and girl who both waved at him. "Have you spoken with him? The little girl seems happy with his company." He spoke into the intercom. "Are you okay, Shirelle?"
"Of course." She turned to the man with her, "What's wrong with everyone? Don't they recognize you, Daddy?"
 Recognized |
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This was for the "No one's going to take____away from me." writing prompt. Apparently the deadline was a week ago. DUH!
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