Turkey, Vine & Iron

"Egad," said Agent Trinidad, "they've closed the country!"
"Must be a national holiday," murmured Agent Spellcheck. "Let's go around back."

No one talked about the future anymore. Or if they did, they rarely did it when anyone was present.

"Try picking the lock," said Agent Trinidad.
"Can you fake a retinal scan?" shot back Agent Spellcheck.

That must be why it got so cold so fast. Or so old so fast. Like life was an aching muscle. Or a tour of duty. With overpriced convenience store coffee.

"We're fucked six ways to Sunday," said Agent Trinidad.
"Maybe not," said Agent Spellcheck. "I have a plan."

Do you remember when people wondered which would run out first, water or oil? No one said a thing about poultry. Or even bees. In case you thought they were being polite.

"A tunnel!" gasped Agent Trinidad. "How did you know that was there?"
"Easy," said Agent Spellcheck. "I built it once. For someone named Traitor."

It's not hard to hold gluey, gummy flesh, & it's not hard to learn to wait & see in the darkness. What would be nice at your earliest convenience would be something to breathe, & maybe a revival of art for art's sake.

"Don't they ever clean this fucking place up?" asked Agent Trinidad.
"Just don't get any on you," said Agent Spellcheck.