Skirted Spies: Season 1

Episode 4-1: Archer Fury

"Please Carlotta," I say, "I can't lose this job! It's all I know!"

She shoos me away from her desk. "Troy, you and Clyde royally screwed up on a massive level. You do realize the amount of danger you put us in when you lost our technology, right?"

"Of course I realize that, and we're so sorry. But everyone makes mistakes, right?"

"I'm sorry, Troy. This mistake was too big of a blunder. First, there's the double agent problem, and then you hand over traceable gadgets to a maniacal cult. They could be on their way over here as we speak!"

Clyde finally says something, "That's why we should stay longer. We can fix this, Adams!"

She didn't look very convinced. I try to use the 'childhood friends' card, "Carlotta, we're friends remember? You were the one who helped me into my first corset back in high school."

"Troy, I will always treasure our friendship, but I separate my personal life from my business life. You should really do the same."

"But-but I..." I can feel tears welling up in the corner of my eyes. That's when she had security escort us out of the building. She never could handle the waterworks.

As we stood in the parking lot of Ispio, I feel a sense of clueless-ness. This line of work is the only life I know. How could I possibly survive in the real world at this point? I can't even think of potential jobs I'd like to try out.

"So this is it?" Clyde says, "Unemployed and lost? Toiling in average day life with no means of financial support, or even a purpose?"

"Wow, Clyde. That was really poetic."

"Shut up."

"I don't suppose you have a plan, do you?"

He sighs. "No. Just go home I guess."

"Go home!? Are you serious!?"

"Look, I don't know-"

"We can't just go home and sit in a puddle of our own tears, Clyde! We have to do something to get our jobs back!"

"Like what?" he asks, his face contorting into a serious frown.

I frown too. It's the only appropriate response I could think of. For the first time, I feel that there is no way out of this situation, and that's coming from a master escape artist. Maybe this was too big of a hole to climb out of.

"We can start a band!" I suggest.

"For the last time, Troy; you can't play guitar, and I can't sing."

"Okay, no band."

I hear the sound of designer heels clanking against the concrete, and spin around to see our dear friend, Amy Quine, walking out of the front doors of Ispio. She spots us, and frantically waves her arm and trots our way.

"Hello, Amy," I greet.

"You guys are still here!?" she asks.

"We're just trying to figure out our next step," says Clyde.

"Oh you guys," she begins, "I'm gonna miss you two so bad!"

"Well, maybe you won't have to," I say. She gives a quizzical look, so I continue. "Maybe you can change Adams' mind."

"Oh come on, Troy. You two were childhood friends! If you couldn't convince her, then what shot do I have?"

"Point made. Look, we're desperate here! We'll take whatever suggestions you've got!"