Chaos Surrounding

II. The Frankel Footage

Two men wheeled a gurney down the hall.

"I'm asking out Sharon tonight," man one said.

"Sharon from Payroll?" man two questioned.

"No, Sharon from Janitorial."

"Ahh."

"I like her smile. Plus my apartment's a disaster." he chuckled. "Yeah."

"How many pickups we got?"

"Two."

"Good. 'Cause I am starving."

"Oh, you're starving?"

"I am starving. Fried wontons at Mama Lee's when we're done?"

"Eh..."

"What?"

"I just... It's too much MSG."

"Oh, you bought the propaganda."

"Yeah."

"There's nothing wrong with MSG, my friend. All right, you ready? On three."

"Yep."

In sync, they said, "One, two..."

The Handler's eyes opened briefly and man one cried, "Aah!"

"What?" man two asked.

"She moved a bit."

Man two chuckled. "No, no, no, no, no." He held up the clipboard. "No, it... it says right here, she's dead. It's probably just intestinal gas." the Handler moaned. "I had one last week that farted all the way into the oven. It's..."

Man one touched her cheek and her eyes opened as she rasped, "Get me to a hospital."

"Don't think that was intestinal gas," man one said.

"Oh, shit," man two whispered.

"You can probably kiss those wontons goodbye."

The Handler blinked.

THREE MONTHS LATER

The Handler walked to the Commission, ignoring the whispers. She entered and pulled off her jacket, but no one took it.

She walked up the stairs, holding her jacket and walked to her office.

"A.J.," the Handler said.

"Welcome back," A.J. replied over a speaker and turned to face her. "And let me say, your recovery has been an inspiration to us all."

"Well," she chuckled, "if it wasn't for this metal plate in my head from the Shanghai job, I don't think I'd be here." she laughed. "I didn't expect to see you until the board," she closed the case and it clicked, "... meeting. What's going on?" she sat.

"Um, during your rehabilitation, certain management changes were made, unavoidable departmental reorganizations. I'm sorry to say-"

"You're not firing me."

"Of course not."

"Oh, thank God."

"We would never dream of it." A lighter clicked. "However..." the lighter clicked and A.J. coughed and sputtered, "you will be demoted."

"What?"

"Due to your long-standing commitment to the Commission, you'll keep your benefits package and parking... uh... in Lot C."

"Lot C?"

"Look, if I'm being completely honest, you've always had a problem with authority."

The Handler stood. "This is about my last file, isn't it? Hazel and Cha-Cha screwed the pooch on that one, not me, and don't even get me started on Number Five, the depth of whose betrayal served as powerful motivation in waking me from my coma, and all the way through my long, tedious, painful recovery back to this office."