Operation Vanity

t w o

With apologies to Eyeore

Dedicated to RubixCube89201, who wrote my very first read and inspired me to write.

"Shooting stars are just angels throwing away their cigarettes before God can catch them smoking." -unknown

Nathan Delgado

You may be wondering why an eighteen year old boy is dressed in a pink tutu and hideous black boa. Perhaps you would notice that his 6'4 self is crammed into a tiny plastic chair surrounded by a group of diverse stuffed animals with cheesy names such as Mr. Cuddlesworth. In this boy's hand might be an empty floral teacup, and since he has a decent set of manners- his pinky finger might be lifted in the slightest bit.

Who is this dignity-revoked man, you may ask?

Me. Nate Delgado.

Of course, I am not entirely to blame. My five and a half year sister Alissa, had forced me into promising to have this absolutely grand tea party with her. It wasn't my fault, she was the one who just had to use the puppy face. Who am I to say no to such a thing?

"Would you like some sugar in your tea?" the small dark brown haired girl asked in an attempt of a (terribly done) British accent.

I couldn't help but burst out laughing.

She pouted, "Nate you broke character!"

I threw my hands up in mock surrender, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I wheezed while still laughing.

She crossed her arms, "You owe me now."

Why was I given such a deceptive little sister?

Oh right, she was raised by a brother who's training with the CIA.

Now, I don't have some long and dramatic backstory on how the Central Intelligence Agency recruited me to be a potential candidate for one of the latest missions. I'm not some orphaned, depressed little shit that became a total badass within the next few months or so. I was smart, you could say. I graduated high school when I was 15, the age at which most are only beginning their second year of four. Now, I'm seventeen. The CIA did some research and stumbled across me, the kid who graduated with acceleration as well as scored at the top percentile of protective responses and reactions.

They did a little bit more digging and approached me through mail. At first, I thought it was some sort of joke. I mean seriously, who would believe the CIA's branching agency would contact you out of the blue. But anyways, since then I've been on one other minor mission involving a small teen drug heist. Just a few days ago, I was officially accepted into my first major mission. I have gotten no exact details on what the objective will be, but I know for sure each agent drafted for this assignment will be undercover as well as highly skilled. I guess my protective instincts should have a major role in whatever the CIA needed drafts from their junior program.

"I vote ice cream," Alissa said with a devious smile on her face and looked to her army of plush animals, "So does Mr. Cuddlesworth, Suntail, and Mallory."

"Well what about Eyeore?" I asked while eying the sad blue tail-less donkey from the Hundred-Acre-Woods that sat slumped over with a pink bow taped to his forehead.

She shook her head, "Eyeore is just like you. Boring and grumpy about his uncool life."

"Ouch."

She smiled, "But don't worry, I can upgrade you to be like Suntail if you take me to get ice cream."

"Can I take the tutu and boa off?" I asked.

"Fine."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

"Can we get two scoops of butter pecan in a cone and..." I began and looked to my sister.

"And two scoops of strawberry ice cream in a cone with chocolate drizzle and rainbow sprinkles please?" She finished smiling cheekily.

The middle aged man at the counter nodded tiredly, "That will be $8.76."

I pulled out my black leather wallet as he turned to make our ice cream.

Suddenly I felt Alissa tug on my jeans.

"What is it?" I asked looking down at her.

"That guy next to us sitting down was looking at us weirdly," she whispered.
I discreetly looked over my shoulder to see a man staring down at a blank phone. Yep, he was most definitely listening. Was I worried? No. I could take the beer bellied guy out before Alissa could mumble the word "help." I turned back around to see the counter guy, who's name tag read as Mariam, finish making our ice cream.

"Keep the change," I said while handing over a ten as Alissa took both cones.

We walked outside and I noticed that the creepy guy coincidentally began to take the same route we were.

"Let's go for a walk," I stated while eating.

It didn't take long for me to finish the two scoops of ice cream, but Alissa was still savouring hers. The man continued to trail behind like an absolute idiot.

We took a sharp turn into an alleyway and stopped at the corner to wait for the strange creepy guy.

"Close your eyes really quickly and count to ten in your head," I directed to Alissa.

She nodded and closed her eyes but continued to eat her almost melted ice cream.

Heavy footsteps began to approach the corner and the man's large shadow came into view.

3...

2...

1...

Before the man could pass, I jumped behind him and grabbed him by the mouth muffling the possible scream. I snaked my arm around his neck and applied just enough pressure to cut the oxygen from his lungs.

One, two, three, four, five....and the man went limp.

"Um, Nate?" Alissa called out.

"Yeah!" I quickly sputtered while gently placing the man in a sitting position, "One second."

I took a step back into the alley to face her.

"Did you have to fart?"