Well, the honeymoon is over … for me because I got called out on another stupid mission and for Jack because one too many people have called me Mrs. Payne. Anyway, since there’s no way I’m leaving Jack alone in Paris (due to its proximity to a well-known gambling location), I activate him for the mission.
It seems that some renegade Irish revolutionaries are going to meet some stupid ass sells-shit-to-terrorists North African moron in Barbados when the cruise ship he is on stops there. Our mission is to make Seamus, the Irish dude, go away, and if Mamoudou Pascal is selling uranium to the terrorists, he has to go away, as well. Apparently, if Mama Doo is selling Semtex, plutonium or any other shit it’s okay, as long as it isn’t uranium. Whatever.
So, Paris and Alex Architect, who are working the non-killing end of this impending disaster, reserve a room at the Hilton and make arrangements to travel on Bennett’s boat after the cruise ship leaves Bridgetown.
Jack makes reservations for a flight to Barbados, but doesn’t bother with the whole hotel thing. Therefore, upon our arrival, we have to find some stupid f****** flea bag shit hole to stay in. You have to love traveling with Jack. This is just the way I like to see islands in the Caribbean. I mean if you stay in the nice hotels, you miss out on all of the local insect life. I should be thankful we are not carrying a cell phone through the Alps. What's he going to do next, throw a concussion grenade onto a coral reef?
Anyway, the next morning as I am enjoying the ocean view (mostly because I put a cheap painting of the ocean in the overlooking-the-spacious-parking-lot window), Paris calls me and tells me where Alex and she are staying so we can crash Alex’s hotel room. Cool. As soon as we get our weapons from the local DEA office to which they were shipped, we’ll make our way over there.
Jack and I go to the local nondescript DEA office. There’s nobody there. Jack finds someone in the hall who tells us that they are usually in after lunch. We return after noon and knock on the door. Nobody answers, so Jack uses his handy dandy lock pick set (notice that it’s not called an unlock pick) and goes to work. Yep, he locked the door. We should have tried the handle, but after the dreaded Chilean doorless handle incident, we generally steer clear of the things. Ah well, he then returns the door to its unlocked state and we enter. There is a narrow room with a glassed in security window at one end. We ring the bell. A voice asks who we are via an intercom system, but it functions only slightly better than the local McDonald’s drive-thru window in Butt Fuck, Nowhere. I notice that the label says Electroshock Corporation, so I wisely opt not to touch it and eventually the man makes an in-person appearance.
Dealing with civil servants always makes me thirsty for blood, and this occasion was no different. We finally manage to get the box only to find it is addressed to Sheila Payne! What is going on here? The only pain in Sheila is the constant throbbing in her head. Jack signs for the shit and off we go.
Later, while Alex and Paris are out enjoying a lovely dinner, Jack and I help ourselves to all of the non-complimentary commodities in Alex’s room, including the rather expensive macadamia nuts, which Jack decides he doesn’t really care for after he finishes the four bottles that were there. We settle down on the bed to watch really bad movies. We left the vermouth, since neither of us likes it.
Eventually Alex returns to the room and finds that Goldilocks and company have been sleeping (well, not really) in his bed and they're still there.
He gets mad and threatens to withhold Jack’s wedding gift, which is a flame-thrower, so Jack agrees to pay for the drinks and nuts. Alex goes to stay in Paris’s room.
The next day, we decide to walk around the island. Jack and I spot Alex and Paris heading toward a large and luxurious boat, and follow. Jack and I tag along when they board and are offered an ever tasty, Sheila-pleasing dark and chewy ale.
Bennett’s soon-to-be-joining-the-art-work-on-my-wall next to (Up)Chuck’s colonoscopy pics monkey steals my gun. A charming afternoon is had by all.
Later that evening, Paris, Alex, Jack and I are walking around the seedy side of town when we spot some of the Irish contingent (whom Paris had previously spotted on another ship). We follow.
One of the Irish chickies manages to double back on Alex and charms him into going to a bar with her. There's a stretch - Alex Architect falling under the spell of a woman who most likely intends him harm. I guess the beating he received in Italy wasn't enough to quell his raging hormones. Hmmm, I may be able to use this to my advantage at some point. I mentally file the information in my Sheila-dex. The chickie makes a signal to the guys toward Paris, the agent not the city. I call Paris on her cell phone as one of the guys is making contact with her. He realizes that we are speaking with one another and gestures for Jack and me to join them.
So, we all sit for a little drinkie and share veiled threats and spook innuendoes. We did have a good side splitting laugh that he thought we were some sort of law enforcement. Paris feels that we should tell Snotty Ass Dellinger about this rumor that we work for the DEA. Perhaps I shall …
Anyway, it becomes apparent that these idiots only understand terrorist so we reveal in a sneaky spy-like manner that Jack is really Jacques, the International Cabaret Terrorist. Finally, the man seems willing to sort of cooperate. He is to contact us with information about the upcoming meeting between Seamus and Mama Doo.
So, that’s where we are. We are waiting for some sniveling terrorist type to give us information on some slimy uranium dealer. Since this mission has caused me to be called Mrs. Payne repeatedly, have my gun stolen by a fucking primate and to have to deal with the civil servant local DEA dude, I don’t care if Mama Do or Papa Don’t, we’re getting rid of that fuck, too. Hmm, I may be in a bad mood! I think I like being in charge of the killers! It's a good thing I am so even tempered or this could be dangerous ...