284
R. Linda:
It was a particularly harrowing day. I had to work on Saturday. I got a call late Friday evening informing me I was needed in. I had been looking forward to a day in the hammock, doing abso-bloody-lutely nothing. Sipping on iced tea and eating lemon cookies would be the extent of any exertion on me part. That would be me task for the day, but no, not going to happen NOW. Now I had to go into work and for what? To cover a protest. Seen one protest, and you've seen them all. It doesn't matter what is being protested or who, it is always the same. You have one large group of dissenting adults and another smaller group of defensive adults acting like small children or worse primitives. Sometimes the name calling gets vicious and they physically cross barriers and have a go at each other, or it's just who can flash the more insulting signage at the other.
I got up, hurried off and drove all the way to Alewife to catch the tubes into Boston when I remembered I forgot me mobile, me lunch and me wallet. Oi! I turned me car around and drove back home. I ran in, retrieved what I needed and slammed back into me car and set off again, when I remembered I left me mobile on the kitchen table in me haste to gather up me wallet and lunch. I turned around once again, and this time found meself behind a school bus full of weekend athletes headed for a baseball game. I couldn't pass the damn bus and it rolled slowly as only school buses do. I was thankful it wasn't a school day because it would have stopped more than a dozen times and I'd be even later. I got home left the motor running, ran in, grabbed me mobile and set off yet once again.
By this time it was now past nine and so the Saturday drivers were on the road and they were driving slowly enjoying the scenery, in no particular hurry, sipping on their morning Starbucks or munching a McGrittle, whatever, and there I was behind most everyone on the narrow winding country lanes that you can't pass on, going 25 mph, extremely late for work, no cup of joe, no McGrittle, just a huge case of anxiety that I would be fired for certain I didn't get me arse down to Boston within the hour.
I was seeing red by the time I got to the highway and was able to zoom on and take off, BUT I didn't get very far because suddenly I heard a siren and I looked in me rear view and what do I see, Mr. State Trooper flagging me over. OH MY GOD, WHY ME?
Well, why me was quite easy, I pulled off the 35 mph ramp at 50. Ticket issued, thank you Officer Mercer of the Law and I set back off, BUT not very fast because Officer M was right behind me all the way to the Mass border! I was livid. Once across the border I was a free man to speed and I tried, but wasn't very successful. It seems that every truck coming from the north was on the road on Saturday morning. I hate those long tractor trailers, I really do. They sway and they take you over like you are going 5 mph when you are really traveling at 70 and God what must they be traveling at 100? I dislike them intensely, always have even as a new driver, I hated when I'd come upon one, or more correctly they'd come upon me. My enmity toward them is surpassed only by my dislike of the sports department at work.
Finally, finally I got into work. I punched in, grabbed me camera person Miss Forego (yes, that is her name), and off we cantered like two race horses to the scene. We got there and found high schoolers milling about in vast numbers waiting to audition for American Idol. I thought it was a tryout for High School Musical number 80 or whatever number they are up to. We excused ourselves to get passed them, but they weren't really moving out of our way and they didn't care we were press, no for some reason it was their job to block the sidewalks and be upset with us for trying to push through so we could do some covering of the event we were sent out to.
Once through the teen obstacle field, we made it to the street where the police were the next barriers of humans we needed to get passed. We had to stop, explain why we were there, show our press credentials, wait while one policeman talked into his shoulder and another answered from it, and only then did he pass us through. We made it to one side of the street where they were supporting health care. The other side was protesting it. We got information from the supporting side and then were on our way to interview the protesters when some guy decided we were spies. I could not believe it. They would not let us cross to the other side. We were being held captive and there was not a bloody thing we could do about it. I reckoned they wanted their story told and no equal time for the other side. I was getting pretty pissed off to not be able to do me job when the thought struck me, WHAT WOULD JACK BAUER DO?
He'd have grabbed hold of the one doing all the holding back and slammed him up against the brick wall and shout in his face, "DO NOT HINDER ME FROM DOING MY JOB OR YOUR FACE WILL MEET THE BRICK. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR? NOW MOVE BACK OR I'LL KILL YOU RIGHT WHERE YOU STAND!"
The following takes place between the hours of 10:00 a.m. and 11:00 a.m.
"Chloe, I mean Barbara, there has to be another way around these people," I muttered.
"I don't think so Jack, I mean Gabe. They seem pretty adamant we aren't crossing the street." Barbara muttered back.
So for fifteen minutes we stood there trying to figure a way across without being pushed back, but the ringleader had a few of his toadies to help keep us where we were. I got out me mobile and punched in the office. I told me editor what the trouble was and he told me to do the best I could and if an opportunity presented itself, then we were to take it. Well ok.
"Chloe, I just to talked to Hastings, I mean Quinn, we've got his go-ahead. Get me the schematics of this area. Then get me the intel on this group of jackarses and upload it to me mobile." I squinted at the crowd around me as I punched in the local weather report.
"Ok Jack, I'm on it." Barbara said laying the camera down between her feet and taking out her Blackberry. "Jack, you want all of this, some of it is classified."
"Yeah download the entire city grid and U.S. regs and the intel on these losers. DO IT NOW!" I said checking the weather radar.
"Downloading now Jack."
"Thanks Chloe," I said watching the grid come up on me screen, followed by city regulations and the intel from the state department.
"I'm setting a GPS course Jack, it's the fastest route to the other side with minimal damage." Barbara chirped as she punched at the keys of her Blackberry.
"Hurry Chloe, I need that intel NOW! Got it," I said looking at me screen. "There's an obstacle I might have to blow it up."
"What obstacle is that Jack?"
"There's a sawhorse in the middle of the street with a sign on it. Can you zero your camera zoom in on it and tell me what it says?"
"Zooming now Jack. It says CAUTION. I think if you blow it up Jack then we'll be free and clear to the other side, but Jack, it's city property." Barbara cautioned.
Me mobile rang and the voice was Hastings, I mean Quinn, crackling out. "Jack, what are you doing? I am monitoring your transmission and I am telling you right now, you blow up that sawhorse, we'll never get to cover another story in Boston again! Don't do it Jack."
"Just tell him it's for the greater good . . . and because you can," Barbara whispered.
"I'm telling you Hastings I saw the schematics Chloe sent me and it's the only way. That sawhorse has to come down and now!" I shouted into me mobile.
"Jack, that sawhorse comes down then the talks will collapse and anarchy will reign!" Hastings, I mean Quinn shouted back at me.
"We're running out of time Jack," Barbara whispered looking around at the jostling crowd.
"Jack, the President is on the phone I'm patching her through to your mobile, hold on." Quinn said.
"Hello? Mr. Bauer? This is President Clinton speaking . . . do you hear me?"
"Hillary? I mean President Clinton, I hear you Madame President," I said putting me headset in me ear.
"Look Jack, I know that sawhorse is in your way, but it's there to serve a purpose. And that purpose is to keep law and order in the streets. If you blow it up, there is no telling how many Democrats will be upset with you and you know they aren't happy with you as it is. Some of them were just coming around to your Republican way of thinking and I am warning you if you do this JACK, it'll set the Democratic Party back 100 years.
I looked at Chloe who was stifling her laughter and smiled at me as I took in that sawhorse again. It was looking like a given to be blown up. I smiled back at her.
The following takes place between the hours of 11:00 a.m. and 12:00 p.m.
"Ugh! Lives are at stake here, we are running out of time. Chloe override the Internet parameters on this and let's blow that sawhorse up!"
"Ok Jack," Barbara said punching in the information on her Blackberry. "You are set and ready. I moved the satellite feed and am shutting down the city cameras."
"You better know what you are doing Jack! You are breaking protocol. God help us all," Hastings, I mean Quinn's voice crackled over me mobile.
"Protocols be damned, we need to get across that street and this is the only way!" I shouted into me mobile headset. "Tons of people will die if we don't get to the other side and we need to do it NOW!"
The following takes place between the hours of 12:00 p.m. and 13:00 p.m.
"Do it Jack!" Barbara hissed in me ear, her eyes intent upon the sawhorse, "Do it for Sarah Palin."
"Vut u didn't count on vas me to stop u." A strange voice said from behind us. We both swung around and there, standing behind us, microphone and camera slung on her shoulder was Ms. O'Neill (you remember her, the competition).
"I'm warning you Natasha, I mean O'Neill, you get in my way and you and your little mic slash camera will regret it!" I hissed at her.
"Yeah." Barbara said picking up her own camera and pointing it at Natasha, I mean O'Neill.
"U should understond Jock and Clowee, dat dese imbe-seals arr here for pur-puss and dat pur-puss ez to keep free-dumb of spach, no?"
"What'd she say?" I turned to Chloe, I mean Barbara.
The following takes place between the hours of 13:00 p.m. and 14:00 p.m.
I was pointing me mobile phone at Natasha's, I mean O'Neill's head. "Look lady I don't know what your game is, but interfering with Boston news isn't going to stop me from pressing this button and watching your brains spatter all over these imbeciles. Make no mistake about it, I am not in a good mood."
"Waste her Jack, she's wasting precious time!" Chloe, I mean Barbara said.
"Ah boot dere ez soomthing u didn't count on Jock," O'Neill said with a smirk.
"And what's that?" I asked.
"Vile u were fooling round vit playing secret agent, my reporter for de competition got boff sidez oof story. Hah!"
"What? What?" I turned around and there across the way was O'Neill's cohort an ex-reporter of OURS turned turncoat Tony, I mean Alan Almeda interviewing the OTHER SIDE while Natasha, I mean O'Neill was doing the same where we stood.
"Soree Jock and Clowee boot u losers LOSE!" And she laughed demonically in our faces.
Then I woke up to find the protest was basically over. Barbara was leaning against the sawhorse in the middle of the street sipping coffee from God knows where, and filming at the same time the backs of the protesters as they marched off home. As for me, I just sort of stood there looking around and sure enough there was O'Neill and Almeda across the way packing up. I sighed, I got noting, but the memory of me as Jack Bauer, CTU (Crappy Telecommunications Unit) agent and star of the protest show '5 MINUTES' (of failure).
So I be on me way home after rushing around like the moron I be and the loser I feel. BUT hey, I was jacked up on Jack for an hour or two. Ok more like 5 minutes. Sigh.
Gabe
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
It was a particularly harrowing day. I had to work on Saturday. I got a call late Friday evening informing me I was needed in. I had been looking forward to a day in the hammock, doing abso-bloody-lutely nothing. Sipping on iced tea and eating lemon cookies would be the extent of any exertion on me part. That would be me task for the day, but no, not going to happen NOW. Now I had to go into work and for what? To cover a protest. Seen one protest, and you've seen them all. It doesn't matter what is being protested or who, it is always the same. You have one large group of dissenting adults and another smaller group of defensive adults acting like small children or worse primitives. Sometimes the name calling gets vicious and they physically cross barriers and have a go at each other, or it's just who can flash the more insulting signage at the other.
I got up, hurried off and drove all the way to Alewife to catch the tubes into Boston when I remembered I forgot me mobile, me lunch and me wallet. Oi! I turned me car around and drove back home. I ran in, retrieved what I needed and slammed back into me car and set off again, when I remembered I left me mobile on the kitchen table in me haste to gather up me wallet and lunch. I turned around once again, and this time found meself behind a school bus full of weekend athletes headed for a baseball game. I couldn't pass the damn bus and it rolled slowly as only school buses do. I was thankful it wasn't a school day because it would have stopped more than a dozen times and I'd be even later. I got home left the motor running, ran in, grabbed me mobile and set off yet once again.
By this time it was now past nine and so the Saturday drivers were on the road and they were driving slowly enjoying the scenery, in no particular hurry, sipping on their morning Starbucks or munching a McGrittle, whatever, and there I was behind most everyone on the narrow winding country lanes that you can't pass on, going 25 mph, extremely late for work, no cup of joe, no McGrittle, just a huge case of anxiety that I would be fired for certain I didn't get me arse down to Boston within the hour.
I was seeing red by the time I got to the highway and was able to zoom on and take off, BUT I didn't get very far because suddenly I heard a siren and I looked in me rear view and what do I see, Mr. State Trooper flagging me over. OH MY GOD, WHY ME?
Well, why me was quite easy, I pulled off the 35 mph ramp at 50. Ticket issued, thank you Officer Mercer of the Law and I set back off, BUT not very fast because Officer M was right behind me all the way to the Mass border! I was livid. Once across the border I was a free man to speed and I tried, but wasn't very successful. It seems that every truck coming from the north was on the road on Saturday morning. I hate those long tractor trailers, I really do. They sway and they take you over like you are going 5 mph when you are really traveling at 70 and God what must they be traveling at 100? I dislike them intensely, always have even as a new driver, I hated when I'd come upon one, or more correctly they'd come upon me. My enmity toward them is surpassed only by my dislike of the sports department at work.
Finally, finally I got into work. I punched in, grabbed me camera person Miss Forego (yes, that is her name), and off we cantered like two race horses to the scene. We got there and found high schoolers milling about in vast numbers waiting to audition for American Idol. I thought it was a tryout for High School Musical number 80 or whatever number they are up to. We excused ourselves to get passed them, but they weren't really moving out of our way and they didn't care we were press, no for some reason it was their job to block the sidewalks and be upset with us for trying to push through so we could do some covering of the event we were sent out to.
Once through the teen obstacle field, we made it to the street where the police were the next barriers of humans we needed to get passed. We had to stop, explain why we were there, show our press credentials, wait while one policeman talked into his shoulder and another answered from it, and only then did he pass us through. We made it to one side of the street where they were supporting health care. The other side was protesting it. We got information from the supporting side and then were on our way to interview the protesters when some guy decided we were spies. I could not believe it. They would not let us cross to the other side. We were being held captive and there was not a bloody thing we could do about it. I reckoned they wanted their story told and no equal time for the other side. I was getting pretty pissed off to not be able to do me job when the thought struck me, WHAT WOULD JACK BAUER DO?
He'd have grabbed hold of the one doing all the holding back and slammed him up against the brick wall and shout in his face, "DO NOT HINDER ME FROM DOING MY JOB OR YOUR FACE WILL MEET THE BRICK. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR? NOW MOVE BACK OR I'LL KILL YOU RIGHT WHERE YOU STAND!"
The following takes place between the hours of 10:00 a.m. and 11:00 a.m.
"Chloe, I mean Barbara, there has to be another way around these people," I muttered.
"I don't think so Jack, I mean Gabe. They seem pretty adamant we aren't crossing the street." Barbara muttered back.
So for fifteen minutes we stood there trying to figure a way across without being pushed back, but the ringleader had a few of his toadies to help keep us where we were. I got out me mobile and punched in the office. I told me editor what the trouble was and he told me to do the best I could and if an opportunity presented itself, then we were to take it. Well ok.
"Chloe, I just to talked to Hastings, I mean Quinn, we've got his go-ahead. Get me the schematics of this area. Then get me the intel on this group of jackarses and upload it to me mobile." I squinted at the crowd around me as I punched in the local weather report.
"Ok Jack, I'm on it." Barbara said laying the camera down between her feet and taking out her Blackberry. "Jack, you want all of this, some of it is classified."
"Yeah download the entire city grid and U.S. regs and the intel on these losers. DO IT NOW!" I said checking the weather radar.
"Downloading now Jack."
"Thanks Chloe," I said watching the grid come up on me screen, followed by city regulations and the intel from the state department.
"I'm setting a GPS course Jack, it's the fastest route to the other side with minimal damage." Barbara chirped as she punched at the keys of her Blackberry.
"Hurry Chloe, I need that intel NOW! Got it," I said looking at me screen. "There's an obstacle I might have to blow it up."
"What obstacle is that Jack?"
"There's a sawhorse in the middle of the street with a sign on it. Can you zero your camera zoom in on it and tell me what it says?"
"Zooming now Jack. It says CAUTION. I think if you blow it up Jack then we'll be free and clear to the other side, but Jack, it's city property." Barbara cautioned.
Me mobile rang and the voice was Hastings, I mean Quinn, crackling out. "Jack, what are you doing? I am monitoring your transmission and I am telling you right now, you blow up that sawhorse, we'll never get to cover another story in Boston again! Don't do it Jack."
"Just tell him it's for the greater good . . . and because you can," Barbara whispered.
"I'm telling you Hastings I saw the schematics Chloe sent me and it's the only way. That sawhorse has to come down and now!" I shouted into me mobile.
"Jack, that sawhorse comes down then the talks will collapse and anarchy will reign!" Hastings, I mean Quinn shouted back at me.
"We're running out of time Jack," Barbara whispered looking around at the jostling crowd.
"Jack, the President is on the phone I'm patching her through to your mobile, hold on." Quinn said.
"Hello? Mr. Bauer? This is President Clinton speaking . . . do you hear me?"
"Hillary? I mean President Clinton, I hear you Madame President," I said putting me headset in me ear.
"Look Jack, I know that sawhorse is in your way, but it's there to serve a purpose. And that purpose is to keep law and order in the streets. If you blow it up, there is no telling how many Democrats will be upset with you and you know they aren't happy with you as it is. Some of them were just coming around to your Republican way of thinking and I am warning you if you do this JACK, it'll set the Democratic Party back 100 years.
I looked at Chloe who was stifling her laughter and smiled at me as I took in that sawhorse again. It was looking like a given to be blown up. I smiled back at her.
The following takes place between the hours of 11:00 a.m. and 12:00 p.m.
"Ugh! Lives are at stake here, we are running out of time. Chloe override the Internet parameters on this and let's blow that sawhorse up!"
"Ok Jack," Barbara said punching in the information on her Blackberry. "You are set and ready. I moved the satellite feed and am shutting down the city cameras."
"You better know what you are doing Jack! You are breaking protocol. God help us all," Hastings, I mean Quinn's voice crackled over me mobile.
"Protocols be damned, we need to get across that street and this is the only way!" I shouted into me mobile headset. "Tons of people will die if we don't get to the other side and we need to do it NOW!"
The following takes place between the hours of 12:00 p.m. and 13:00 p.m.
"Do it Jack!" Barbara hissed in me ear, her eyes intent upon the sawhorse, "Do it for Sarah Palin."
"Vut u didn't count on vas me to stop u." A strange voice said from behind us. We both swung around and there, standing behind us, microphone and camera slung on her shoulder was Ms. O'Neill (you remember her, the competition).
"I'm warning you Natasha, I mean O'Neill, you get in my way and you and your little mic slash camera will regret it!" I hissed at her.
"Yeah." Barbara said picking up her own camera and pointing it at Natasha, I mean O'Neill.
"U should understond Jock and Clowee, dat dese imbe-seals arr here for pur-puss and dat pur-puss ez to keep free-dumb of spach, no?"
"What'd she say?" I turned to Chloe, I mean Barbara.
The following takes place between the hours of 13:00 p.m. and 14:00 p.m.
I was pointing me mobile phone at Natasha's, I mean O'Neill's head. "Look lady I don't know what your game is, but interfering with Boston news isn't going to stop me from pressing this button and watching your brains spatter all over these imbeciles. Make no mistake about it, I am not in a good mood."
"Waste her Jack, she's wasting precious time!" Chloe, I mean Barbara said.
"Ah boot dere ez soomthing u didn't count on Jock," O'Neill said with a smirk.
"And what's that?" I asked.
"Vile u were fooling round vit playing secret agent, my reporter for de competition got boff sidez oof story. Hah!"
"What? What?" I turned around and there across the way was O'Neill's cohort an ex-reporter of OURS turned turncoat Tony, I mean Alan Almeda interviewing the OTHER SIDE while Natasha, I mean O'Neill was doing the same where we stood.
"Soree Jock and Clowee boot u losers LOSE!" And she laughed demonically in our faces.
Then I woke up to find the protest was basically over. Barbara was leaning against the sawhorse in the middle of the street sipping coffee from God knows where, and filming at the same time the backs of the protesters as they marched off home. As for me, I just sort of stood there looking around and sure enough there was O'Neill and Almeda across the way packing up. I sighed, I got noting, but the memory of me as Jack Bauer, CTU (Crappy Telecommunications Unit) agent and star of the protest show '5 MINUTES' (of failure).
So I be on me way home after rushing around like the moron I be and the loser I feel. BUT hey, I was jacked up on Jack for an hour or two. Ok more like 5 minutes. Sigh.
Gabe
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved
7 comments:
Good one. I enjoy this. Keep writing you amuse me.
Thank you. I do me best.
I loved this one. Very clever. I am a big fan of 24, so you incorporating those characters into this story added a great spin and fun reading in my opinion.
two thumbs up
Oh to be Jack for 24 hours! I be happy when I hit me mark and readers GET me nonsense and I hope get a few laughs over it. I be a huge fan of Jack Bauer and will be sorry to see him go, but what more saving can Jack do? And yes, I clicked on the wrong button and deleted me own comment, LMAO typical!
I think Jack will be a goner in more ways than one in the finale of this Season. Will miss this programme, one of the best on telly. Ah well, tomorrow's another day ;)
JACK LIVES and Dew is a pessimist. YES! LOST sucked! BUT JACK LIVES! (Bauer Jack not Shepherd Jack) YEA for us 24 fans! Where the hell Bauer's arse has gone off to we don't have a clue, but do we care? NO, after watching six seasons of LOST and being totally lost as a result and in limbo (or was it purgatory?) I don't care, just happy that BAUER LIVES!
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