Jerry's Cousin // Jack Brewer X OC

•65•

||RETURN OF SPYFALL||

|CAMI

"Hello, I'm President George D. Washington, welcome to Presidential Patties," the waiter greeted flatly. "Today's special is a Patriot Burger, I cannot tell a lie, it is delicious." Me, Jack, and Milton won this essay contest thing, earning us a trip to Washington DC to meet the president. I was currently playing with Jack's hair as the waiter told spoke the spiel.

"So uh what makes it a Patriot Burger?" Jack asked as I read over his shoulder at the menu.

"The tomato is red, the onion is white, and the meat is blue," the waiter answered.

"Why's the meat bl-"

"I'll have the clams, they'll have the special," Funderburk ordered, cutting me off.

"You alright, Funderburk? You look nervous," Milton pointed out from beside him.

"Yeah. Of course he's nervous. He ordered the clams. Says right here on the menu, clams may not be actual clams," Jack read.

"Look, you guys know how you're always saying I'm the greatest principal ever?" Funderburk asked.

"We never say that," we all shook our heads.

"The truth is...I'm not actually a principal," Funderburk spoke lowly.

"You're tellin' me. You rented out half of the school and the food there is actually just mud Marge finds on the football field," I scoffed.

"I'm serious. I am-" Funderburk was cut off by a guy grabbing him. Funderburk fought him off, much to me, Jack, and Milton's impressment. An old man joined the battle, also fighting back strongly making me, Jack, and Milton gape.

"Chair!" Funderburk ordered making the old man hand him a chair. Funderburk finished the random dude off with a swing of the chair, breaking the table beside him. "As I was saying," Funderburk pretended like nothing happened. "I'm an undercover agent working for the government. Good work. You guys this is Agent 34."

"You had some nice moves out there! You're a spry old fella aren't you?" Jack practically yelled.

"Jack! I'm pretty sure this guy is in a disguise," I snickered. "I'd be impressed if an old man could move like that."

"You guys are here because I'm putting together a team of teen spies and I need you three for a mission," Funderburk said.

"Whoa whoa whoa, wait," Milton spoke. "Does this mean we're not going to the wax museum about presidential dogs, cause I promised my mother a picture of Barbara Bush's beagle!"

"Let's go. There'll be more cyborgs," Funderburk told his disguised companion, ignoring Milton.

"Cyborgs only exist in sci-fi movies," Milton pointed out. The previous guy, or cyborg, powered back up, attempting to attack Funderburk again, but Funderburk stopped him, making the cyborg collapse again with a clink. Funderburk opened the cyborg's shirt, taking off the cyborg's fake abdomen, revealing a mother board. He pulled the wires, short circuiting the machine.

"You were saying?" I asked.

"Oh yeah no, that's a cyborg. Cyborg in the house people!" Milton nodded.