Ah! Back in my once neat and orderly apartment again. I have made arrangements to have a sanitizing crew clean the closet, and a carpet company will be laying my new plush and clean rug soon. Although I still have the occasional headache from the bullet in Chile, I am feeling pretty good.
Then my phone rings. It is Jack/Jacques/Vince. He wants me to pick him up at the airport tomorrow morning. After reminding him of how much money it cost me to rescue my car from the impound yard, I hang up with him and quickly make some calls to reschedule the cleaners and carpet company. Then I go to the drugstore and buy an extra large bottle of extra strength aspirin.
Apparently, Jack was called in to see the man in the gray suit, who has tired of the Jack and Mulroy show, and wants Jack to take care of the problem once and for all. So Jack decides that he has three days to come to Paris, the city, not the agent, and kill Mulroy.
Jack’s attempts to talk the major into going with him meet with (surprise, surprise) little success. So Jack flies over to Paris, the city, not the agent. He marches through customs shouting that he has no spy gadgets, only a legal amount of money and no weapons, but he rolled a 00, so nobody pays any attention to him and he passes through without incident.
Of course he told me to pick him up at ten o’clock and it’s only 8:30, so he has to kill time in the airport. While roaming about, he runs into Paris, the agent, not the city. They have coffee together, and Jack mutters some fairly incoherent sentences at Paris, the agent, not the city, who stares at him blankly. Realizing that she was not understanding his spy-speak, he asks her outright for assistance. Paris, the agent, not the city, agrees to stay in Paris, the city, not the agent, and help. She holds out her hand for the money to cover the fee she would have to pay to exchange her airline ticket.
At ten o’clock, I pick them up. I hold out my hand for the impound money. When I ask Jack where I should drop him off, he tells me that he was unable to get a hotel room, and wants to crash on my couch. Since this justifies my decision to postpone the carpet installation, I agree.
Paris takes out her shopping list pad which, thanks to my request, now has drop-cloth printed on the top as a shopping list default item. Jack tells her what he needs. Paris, the agent not the city, then goes to get a hotel room. I drop Jack off at the hotel where Mulroy is staying so he can do some recon, and go to the grocery store to buy the makings for a feast.
Jack, yelling something about slugs, refuses to eat the wonderful dinner I have prepared, instead opting for a TV dinner.
Paris, the agent, not the city, takes Jack’s wish list to the gambling club to find Günther. He is not there, so she returns to her hotel room. Her phone rings at 1 am and she is thrilled to learn that it is not Jack and me calling to report that we are disposing of a body. It is Günther, asking what she wants. She gives him the shopping list and goes back to sleep.
The next morning, while Paris, the agent, not the city, is finishing her shopping, I take Jack to the hotel to try to find out what room Mulroy is staying in. He brings flowers for Mulroy’s female companion and gives them to the concierge, hoping to catch a glimpse of a room number. He doesn’t. I tell him that I will wait and follow the flowers upstairs (as well as the person carrying them). Jack says that’s a stupid idea, and goes to the desk with a message for Mulroy. The desk person looks suspiciously at Jack, who just dropped off flowers for the lady in the same room, but takes the message. The clerk can’t wait to call his cousin, who is a clerk in Monte Carlo, feeling that his story about a man who is wooing both members of a couple in his hotel will top his cousin’s story about a large he-man asking for a male Ms. Young. Jack watches attentively as the clerk puts the message in a pigeon-hole, but there are no room numbers marked on them.
So, my idea may be stupid, but it is the only one left. I follow the bellboy with the flowers into the elevator. He is very nosy, so I make up some story about visiting the person in the second suite to the right. We get off the elevator, I go right and the bellboy goes left. I sprint around two corners in time to see him leaving with tip in hand. I have narrowed it down to six rooms, but thanks to one very poorly timed 00, I am unable to hear any noise inside that would indicate which room had just received flowers.
As I am sneaking down the hall trying to listen, the silence is broken by the sound of my cell phone. It is Jack, who wants to know if I have been successful. I tell him I have narrowed it down, and he decides to have the desk ring Mulroy’s room, so I can listen for the phone. That works surprisingly well.
Well, that was the last part of the plan that worked surprisingly well. The end of this report finds Paris, the agent, not the city, being held captives by some Russian Mafia types; the police are once again looking for the International Terrorist, Jacques and me; and (Up)Chuck, Jack and I are driving around Paris, the city, not the agent, looking for a place to dispose of the body.
I’m reminded of the fact that thinking success is at hand is surely a jinx on the future. Okay, let me backtrack …
(Up)Chuck has phoned to say that he is coming to help, but that’s okay, because I have a good mental picture of my shoes safely hidden away. Paris, the agent, not the city, gets the goods from Günther.
I try to rent a car from my not-so-honest car rental friend, but he is unwilling to let me have a car due to the fact that the last time he did, the car may have been used in the commission of several crimes, and he doesn’t want any attention. I tell Jack we have to steal a car and then spend the next few minutes talking him out of stealing Inspector Clusine’s car for the deed.
Jack and I go to a café to bask in our success and to have some lunch. Paris, the agent, not the city, calls to tell us that she has gotten Jack’s wish list items and we should meet her out front. We leave the café, but realize that several of Paris, the city, not the agent’s, finest are watching. Deciding that taking the car in front of them is probably not a good idea, I send Jack away hoping that they will follow the International Terrorist. They don’t. Paris, the agent, not the city, drives around the corner, I follow her and the police follow me. I tell her through her open window to meet me at the Café Friedrichstrasse and go into the metro to lose the cops.
Jack is busy meeting and greeting the citizens of Paris, the city, not the agent.
Not wanting my car to get towed again, I phone Jack and tell him to bring it back to the apartment. Of course, most people at least look around before breaking into someone’s car …
So when the cops try to pull him over, Jack stops, but then takes off as they approach. He ignores the terrible crash behind him and floors the gas pedal. Jack takes my car to Le Par King Garage and leaves it there, despite the fact that the attendants do not seem to mind the fact that he doesn’t have the key.
Meanwhile, I get the car with the goodies from Paris, the agent, not the city, and go back to my apartment, where I have Jack meet me in the back alley to get the weapons.
Back in my apartment, Jack tells me that I have to report my car stolen. I sure am glad I didn’t risk the impound yard again! So I call the police and report the car stolen.
Later, Paris, the agent, not the city, arrives to give Jack his change, which will definitely not cover the cost of my car. Another knock at the door announces the arrival of (Up)Chuck. I think a mental image is called for at this point. Jack is yelling at me for not telling him that (Up)Chuck was coming as he is putting the silencer on his gun. I am yelling back that I forgot about it when he told me that he stole my car. (Up)Chuck is frantically looking for some kind of weapon and telling Jack that he will damage the plaster on my walls, although we do have a drop cloth - thanks to the pre-printed shopping list. Paris, the agent, not the city, is inching toward the door.
When everybody is finally calm, (Up)Chuck suggests putting the news on. Unfortunately, it seems that the crash that Jack ignored when he fled earlier, resulted in one of the cops getting run over and killed. We then realize that the police will be around shortly regarding the stolen car and Jack leaves.
At about midnight, the detectives arrive to ask about the car. When they ask (Up)Chuck what he is doing there, he pretends that he is gay and in Paris, the city, not the agent, to meet some friends. Not wanting to give up Jack as the person I was with, I give them the name of someone who matches his description from the museum and they call him. For some reason, he lies for me. Another poorly timed 00 has made the police suspicious of me. That and the fact that I didn’t report it stolen until two hours after the accident…
By the time the evening is over, (Up)Chuck has a date with the gay cop and I have to go out with the geek from the museum! Jack - there isn’t enough money in the world …
Meanwhile, Jack, the object of my ire, has spent the evening and what’s left of his money, having some cabaret show people teach him how to disguise himself.
The police come back at 6:00 am to ask more questions and finalize the details of (Up)Chuck’s upcoming date.
Paris, the agent, not the city, runs into Travers and Kennedy, two of the eligible bachelors from the gambling fiasco. They tell her that they are getting a gambling game together and want Jack to join in. They ask for my number, but she tells them she will have me call them.
So, Paris, the agent, not the city, calls (Up)Chuck and me, then (Up)Chuck calls Jack, who is all excited about the upcoming gambling game. We all decide to meet at a metro station.
It is very difficult to get Jack to focus past the dollar signs in his eyes, but finally (Up)Chuck, Jack and I are on our way to a uniform store, and Paris, the agent, not the city, heads back to her hotel.
Unfortunately, Paris, the agent, not the city, who is looking for a taxi, has not had enough contact with our collective consciousness to know that you never get into a car that miraculously appears. The Russian Mafia types take her hostage and force her to call me.
We are in a café, where (Up)Chuck and I are sitting at a table, while Jack is making himself up in the bathroom. The Mafia types inform me that we have one hour to give them Jack and $325,000. I try to explain that I don’t know where Jack is and I don’t have that kind of money when they shoot Paris (it turns out they shot Paris, the city, not the agent, because she is okay).
I make (Up)Chuck go to the bathroom to get Jack, who now looks like someone else. We get back into the car. Jack decides that the only way to take care of this, is to get to the hotel and kill Mulroy. Although after spending some time thinking about their respective failures, they realize it would probably be best if (Up)Chuck offers to protect Mulroy (who will surely then die) and Jack will try to shoot (Up)Chuck (which means that any bystanders - in this case Mulroy - will get shot instead), they recognize that this is not a viable plan and decide that Jack will simply go to the room and shoot.
I wait outside while Jack goes up to the room with (Up)Chuck following a short distance behind. Jack knocks on the door to Mulroy’s room with his gun hidden by a bouquet of flowers. He doesn’t shoot fast enough and Ida Gallo screams as she sees the gun. Of course when he does shoot, he only grazes the side of her head. Jack manages to get past her and kill the man in the room who is reaching for some heavy artillery. He checks the man for ID, only to find that he has only one passport and one piece of identification. He yells to (Up)Chuck that this isn’t Mulroy, and they decide to take Ida as a hostage.
All the screaming has drawn some attention and (Up)Chuck starts yelling at the liveried Jack that he has scared Ida, she passed out and he must take her for medical attention. Jack answers the ringing phone to tell the front desk that the screaming was because he excited Ida by proposing. They offer to send champagne, but he decides not to wait for it.
The dynamic duo arrives at (Up)Chuck’s rental car with an unconscious Ida. We bicker and argue over what to do. A call to Paris, the agent, not the city’s, cell phone, makes us realize that it is the Russians, not Mulroy, that have Paris, the agent, not the city. They shoot Paris again. That’s Paris, the city, not the agent, who had tape over her mouth so she couldn’t scream when they shot. I give the phone to Jack. While Jack is talking to his Russian comrades, (Up)Chuck calls Travers and Kennedy and tells them to have Mulroy call him. Mulroy calls back and tells (Up)Chuck that he doesn’t care about Ida. Ida is now babbling in Italian, (Up)Chuck is yelling in English, Jack is speaking in Russian, and I am wondering how long it will take this concentrated exposure to these terrestrial bound microwave signals to cause my head to explode.
Anyway, needless to say, (Up)Chuck and Jack begin to argue again and I have to keep slamming on the brakes to keep them from shooting one another. Unfortunately, the door to the car opens and Ida and (Up)Chuck fall out as I am accelerating. Fortunately, Ida breaks (Up)Chuck’s fall. Unfortunately, it kills her. I stop the car, and (Up)Chuck grabs Ida and gets back in.
After checking for a pulse, we realize that we have picked up road kill.
I call Paris, the agent, not the city, to tell her that we are, once again, looking for a place to dump the body. She manages to tell me that they are taking her to Versailles.
Jack decides that the best course of action is to call Inspector Clusine, who is absolutely thrilled to hear from the International Terrorist, Jacques. After Jack tells the inspector about the stolen Russian art!!, Inspector Clusine asks to talk to me. He seems a bit confused. I offer him the deal of a lifetime. If he will go to the Versailles, and rescue Paris, the a…person, not the city, Jacques will leave Paris, the city, not the agent. Clusine says he will look into the stolen art thing and call us back. I tell him we will call him back, and turn off my cell phone.
So, here I am driving around Paris, the city, not the agent, with the International Cabaret Terrorist, Jacques, (Up)Chuck, who is busy picking pieces of pavement from his skin, a dead body and lots of cell phones.
Paris, the agent, not the city, has assured us that, although she is in the company of several men, she is definitely NOT having a lovely evening.
So, I’m still driving around Paris, the city, not the agent, with a dead body and two bickering would-be spies. At some point, (Up)Chuck throws the road kill out of the car and I pull a Jack, ignoring the crash behind me.
(Up)Chuck is upset that his clothing is dirty (surprising after what he did to my shoes, no?) so we stop at a store where he purchases some new ones.
A call to Inspector Clusine reveals that he has been the laughing stock of the Paris police department in his attempt to locate the whereabouts of Paris, the person, not the city, in Paris, the city, not the a… person. I tell him what her full name is and hang up.
(Up)Chuck wants to go the Versailles to do some recon so Jack and I drive him out there. Once there, we see all sorts of official personages on the grounds. We drive past, but Jack and (Up)Chuck begin to fight. (Up)Chuck punches Jack … twice and the brakes on this car are wearing out from my slamming on them to get the kids, I mean boys, I mean fellow spies to stop. They bicker and argue over ‘oo ‘it ‘oo and ‘oo is going to shoot ‘oo. Do they know how close I am to shooting them both?
Jack and I drop (Up)Chuck off so he can go gallivanting about the woods and we keep driving. We manage to pass by the watching patrols undetected. Not true, of course, of (Up)Chuck. He gets spotted by a K … what until recently was called the KGB official who is here to deter the Russian Mafia. Not realizing the value of such a potential ally, (Up)Chuck engages in mortal combat with him. I would probably get it wrong if I tried to correctly recount ‘oo shot ‘oo and ‘oo flipped ‘oo, but I’ll attempt a recap. The NKVD (or whatever) guy is trying to handcuff (Up)Chuck, who is having flashbacks to being in my apartment handcuffed and defenseless against a bottle of Wet and Wild Honey Mauve. Deciding that he simply cannot have his nails painted again, (Up)Chuck opts not to cooperate.
Using his (lack-of) literary skills as a weapon, (Up)Chuck tries to do the guy in with a (.22) ball point pen. Not surprisingly, this fails to work. It goes downhill from there, until the guy’s gun miraculously malfunctions and the f’in clip winds up embedded in his (the guy’s, not (Up)Chuck’s) forehead, giving new meaning to the words head shot.
Another call to Inspector Clusine proves as frustrating as the previous ones. I tell him that Jacques says, "hey." Hopefully, he will dispatch some police to the Versailles in the hope of apprehending the International Terrorist Jacques.
We turn on the phone to await (Up)Chuck’s call, and he finally checks in to tell us what happened. As we are talking to him, all sorts of police and military vehicles arrive and focus on (Up)Chuck’s location. We tell him they’ve found him and hang up.
While (Up)Chuck is sneaking about the palace buildings, Jack and I head back toward the palace at a leisurely pace. (Up)Chuck has found an office computer and is looking for any information on where Waldo, I mean Mulroy could be.
Jack attempts to call Paris, the agent, not the city, which results in the interception of his signal. We realize that we have been spotted, so Jack covers up the rifle in the back seat and we get out of the car. Jack tells the cops that we were out for a leisurely drive from Paris, the city (not the agent) of love, and then has the balls to tell them that we got lost because I wouldn’t stop and ask for directions. If it weren’t that big ((Up)Chuck induced) lump on his head …
Luckily, the cops have rolled really bad and give us our ID back without incident.
Finally, we get a call from (Up)Chuck asking us to pick him up. (Apparently, he did MUCH better in spy-speak 101 than Jack did.) So here we are: one roke International Cabaret lump-headed Terrorist, one bruised, bloodied and bullet-grazed protector person and me - what can I say - I haven’t been shot, bruised, injured, none of my furniture or clothing has yet been ruined … I think this has been a great success thus far!
Then we get a phone call.
HE is here!!!
Yes, it’s time to pick up Joe spy, Joe architect, Joe savior, Joe - what the fuck is your character’s name?
He has come complete with an ISIS, the agency, not the goddess, car loaded with 10 gouge shotguns! Able to gouge the eyes (and the rest of the head) of your opponent with a single shot (unless Jack is shooting, in which case it is able to gouge new doorways into walls, new knotholes in trees …)!
So, the end of this evening finds us tired, more or less plan-less, but certainly armed. (Up)Chuck is screaming for sleep to heal his bruised and battered body, Jack is dreaming up ways to set up Inspector Clusine for the murder of Mulroy, Joe Whatever is thrilled to simply make it into a report and I am looking forward to rescuing Paris, the agent, not the city, and returning to my once neat and orderly apartment.
We’re not sure, but we think that Paris, the agent, not the city, is probably still not having a lovely evening.
As dawn approaches, (Up)Chuck is sleeping off his bruising, Jack is testing the staying power of his make-up, Joe/Alex is building a vermicelli Versailles so we can practice our assault on the pasta palace before trying the real thing, and I’m planning on being the getaway driver, because even if Jack worked for me for the rest of his life, he wouldn’t be able to pay off that debt.
Meanwhile, Paris, the agent, not the city, is in fact being wined and dined by her captors. However, she is less than thrilled with their wine selection, so she periodically attempts to escape.
Armed with a plan to destroy one of France’s national monuments, I drive the boys to the palace. With our typical efficiency, we are spotted by the palace guards. (Up)Chuck and Alex Architect lumber through the bushes and Jack, deciding that a mud mask would help deter the detrimental effects of prolonged exposure to cabaret style make-up, falls face first to the ground. Pleased with his new found camouflage, he gets up and heads toward the palace.
I drive over some gardens (now I’m even with the French authorities for my carpets) and back to the road. Seeing a guard-in-a-cart directly ahead, I nail the gas, deftly stopping just before hitting him. A less than wonderful roll may have caused some skidding and I scared the shit out the guy. I drive around him and continue on so I can come in from the other direction and pick up the gang.
The terrible trio have made their way to the targeted window. Cracker Jack consults his copy of 1001 Uses for Duct Tape (which he carries along with The Worst Case Scenario) and applies some of the miracle material to the window. He then taps the window with his knife to break it without setting off the vibration sensor. This seems like a good plan, no? At some point however, Jack’s arm becomes stuck in the now broken window. Well, we didn’t have a bull to send into the china shop, but (Up)Chuck in the Versailles has much the same effect. He helps Jack by lacerating, I mean, removing - oh hell, he did both - Jack’s arm (from the window, not from Jack). Once again, the Bible, I mean 1001 Uses for Duct Tape is consulted, and Jack makes a bandage for his bleeding arm. Jack then tries to open the window, but as in the past, he discovers this is much easier to do once one has actually unlocked it first. (Up)Chuck uses brute force to open the window and they enter.
Freeze frame: cut to the opposite side of the building. Paris, the agent, not the city, after several false alarms have put her guards off-guard, manages to escape through the window and down to the palace grounds (although she did get shot in the process) where she is met by several special ops types who are approaching the palace.
Back inside the palace, Cracker Jack, (Up)Chuck and Alex Architect are heading for the stairs. Cracker Jack engages some bad guys in a gun battle and actually manages to kill his targets! Alex Architect hears a sound behind him and turns to see a not-so-innocent Versailles guard approaching threateningly. He shoots not-to-kill (not a good plan when one is armed with a shotgun) and removes some body parts from the guard, while yelling, "Sorry!"
Cracker Jack and (Up)Chuck head up the stairs and Jack, detecting that he was in danger, ducks. (Up)Chuck shoots the two bad guys at the top. Mulroy miraculously appears and yells, "kill them," to his henchman. One of the bad guys get startled and shoots his cohort whose gun goes off at the ceiling, causing Paris, the plaster, not the city or the agent, to rain down upon the hapless trio. While the dust is settling, and the boys try to clear their vision, Mulroy runs. Cracker Jack and (Up)Chuck shoot the remaining bad guys. Cracker Jack, who now has a really bad case of Mulroy-on-the-brain runs after the villain.
Cracker Jack runs into the pantry, and we should not be surprised that someone who would break into a car without looking around would run full speed and blindly into an unfamiliar room. Jack falls over the aptly named trip wire and lands on the floor. Momentarily stunned, he finds himself being dragged out of the room by one of Mulroy’s hooligans. (Up)Chuck comes into the room and sees Cracker Jack being dragged out. There is another bad guy there who is holding an engaged detonation device with a Dead Man’s grip. (Up)Chuck immediately engages the soon-to-be-dead man in hand-to-hand combat for the Dead man’s grip. (Up)Chuck successfully gets possession of the device and knocks the guy out.
Realizing that he is now holding the Dead Man’s grip and not wanting to become a dead man himself, (Up)Chuck overcomes his fear of fetters, and uses the handcuffs of the K … of the man who worked for an agency, which was until recently known as the KGB, to secure the device in the engaged position. Alex Architect arrives, followed by yet another bad guy, and (Up)Chuck shoots him (the bad guy, not Alex Architect).
In the next room, Cracker Jack, who is still being dragged by one of Mulroy’s minions, sees red - I mean Mulroy - yells "hey" and shoots him. Unfortunately, his recent success with a weapon was a fluke and he misses. Mulroy then shoots Jack in the arm. The man with the hold on Jack shoots him, but has apparently had enough contact with Jack to catch his disease, and misses his point blank range shot. Jack punches the bad guy, but attempts to switch from punching to kicking mid-fight and fails miserably. The friendly sternum head butt didn’t work well, either. He is relieved to see (Up)Chuck and Alex Architect burst into the room. (Up)Chuck KOs the guy with a (butt-of-the) shotgun blast to the head and goes toward the swinging door, thinking that Mulroy has gone that way, while Alex Architect attempts to find out if Cracker Jack is okay. His clumsy attempt almost results in more pain for Payne. Alex Architect realizes that someone else is coming in and turns to shoot him, executing a perfect called-head-shot, which even the East German judge has to give a 9.9 when the guy’s head is completely removed from his body (he lost one tenth of a point for screaming at his own shot). Cracker Jack tapes his injured arm to his body and plans a letter to the editors of 1001 Uses for Duct Tape, so they can add a duct tape tourniquet as the 1002 item on the list.
I have managed to drive back around but stop short as I see Inspector Clusine directing the police activity taking place all around the palace grounds.
Paris, the agent, not the city or the plaster, is being tended to by medics. Actually, they are pretenders who are part of the diabolical plot of Mr. Mulroy. The ‘medic’ attempts to sedate Paris, the agent, not the city, who begins to fight back. Yelling, "seizure!" the ‘medic’ gets the attention of another ‘medic’ who sedates Paris, the agent, not the city. They take her back to the building.
I approach Clusine who finally admits that Paris, the a… person, not the city, exists and tells me about the ‘seizure.’ Realizing that no ambulance has left the grounds, I head in that direction. I see a flurry of activity from the troops and head in their direction.
Meanwhile back at the palace, (Up)Chuck, Cracker Jack and Alex Architect have made their way to an assembly room. (Up)Chuck storms in and sees a white sheet. He yells, "let me see your hands," and is confused when the sheet raises its hands, but then realizes that they belong to Mulroy.
Mulroy holds up a detonator with a green indicator light and tells (Up)Chuck that Paris, the agent, not the city, is directly beneath him and he will exchange her for the fag in the cabaret make-up (that’s Jack, for those of you who may have lost track). Jack, in a rare selfless moment tells (Up)Chuck and Alex to get Paris, the agent not the city, and leave. Jack attempts to consult Worse Case Scenarios for a section on how to get free from four armed thugs who are about to take you captive in the Versailles, but unfortunately, he has inadvertently duct taped the book to his body in his overzealous tourniquetting.
(Up)Chuck and Alex head down for Paris, the agent, not the city. She is sitting sedate(d)ly in a chair with a suitcase underneath (the chair, not Paris). (Up)Chuck tells the guy next to her to back up and decides to go for the case. This does not sit well with Mulroy’s minions and another round of violence breaks out.
Back outside, the police are headed for the doorway. A really good roll has revealed a nearby open bay window to me, so I go through it. Through the open doors to the assembly room, I hear "freeze" and see (Up)Chuck on a podium in a Mexican standoff with an armed man, Paris, the agent, not the city, is slinking along the floor in a slinky evening gown, Alex is frozen with shotgun in hand, and Jack is on the upper level surrounded by four bad guys. Deciding that a distraction was needed, I walk in and say "what’s going on?"
In the next few minutes, I try to shoot Jack (I was going for his vest, but missed him completely) - twice, Jack shoots two of his would-be captors, and (Up)Chuck tries to get his guy but seeing a chance to try stage diving, instead flies off the podium into a group of chairs (trust (Up)Chuck, it works better when there is an audience to catch you). (Up)Chuck’s bad guy tries to shoot me, but the shot goes wild as a result of (Up)Chuck’s wild stage dive, and he shoots Mulroy’s hand hitting the detonator and sticking it in the engaged position.
The police finally burst in and shoot at those of us with weapons. Alex gets grazed in the head and I get shot in the foot (note: this mission is no longer a success - I have (yet again) been shot). Jack somehow manages to resist the urge to shoot Mulroy and thus avoid the probability of being killed by the police.
Anyway, the long and short of it is that we are national heroes for saving the Versailles (they haven’t seen the gardens yet), except for Jack who is barely breaking even in Inspector Clusine’s eyes.
Paris, the agent, not the city, who is now feeling the pleasant effects of the sedative, and is being treated very well by the police, has yet another lovely evening.
Special Awards:
(Up)Chuck
Alex
Jack
Paris
Sheila
Training Recommendations:
(Up)Chuck
Alex
Jack
Paris
Sheila
Hey, Sheila here. Ever wonder what happens in that mysterious time between the disastrous ends of our missions and the start of the next? Well, Inspector Clusine finally had his way with Jacques, the International Terrorist and his cohorts.
After interrogating everybody about the plot to destroy the Versailles, it was determined (by the makers of the board game Clue) that Jacques did it by the window with the duct tape, Alex did it in the stairway with the shotgun, Paris did it by the bedroom window with some palace sheets, I did it in the gardens with an ISIS, the agency, not the goddess, car, and (Up)Chuck did the whole thing with his brain (he was the mastermind - according to him).
Of course, we learned several things as well. Inspector Clusine is not an Egyptian mythology fan and has a decided aversion to coffee.
But I digress.
During the interrogations, Jack was wheeling and dealing (what did you expect?), Alex was doing his best Vienna Choir Boy imitation, Paris, the agent, not the city, was threatening to sue the police of Paris, the city, not the agent, for treating her as a prisoner, not a rescued hostage, I was giving Clusine vocabulary lessons, and (Up)Chuck was confessing to being the mastermind of the entire operation.
How do I know all of this? I’m glad you asked. As (Up)Chuck was being released, he ran into his ardent admirer, the gay detective who came to my apartment and with whom he had made a date. As a gesture of his affection, he gave (Up)Chuck a gift of the tapes of the interrogations.
JACK
So what do we find out from Jack’s interrogation? He’s not responsible for any of the recent air disasters (although asking from where the flights originated didn’t help his cause). He also categorically denied any responsibility for the deaths of anybody killed during World War II, and defied Inspector Clusine to figure out how they died if Jacques, the International Terrorist, wasn’t there.
Jack feels that break-in is too strong a word to describe his activities and is unconcerned about the incriminating duct tape on his arm, as he is totally convinced that there are other people also running about the Palace of Versailles with duct tape. He is also less than pleased with French architecture and its lack of duct work.
Jack believes Clusine is a common man whose career is in the crapper, or le shit-tér. Always concerned with the safety of others (except when he is discharging any weapon), he cautions Inspector Clusine to be careful of hot coffee.
Initially, he professes to have no knowledge of the Hotel de Bristol. When told by Inspector Clusine that forensics will surely match Jack’s dart gun with a dart that was recovered from a door at the site of the murder of Monique, the maid, Jack asks what other incriminating evidence will be planted.
When asked if he was ever in Chile, Jack wishes to know if that was chili with or without beans. Inspector Clusine then tells of a message left at a destroyed residence (belonging to Mulroy) in Chile, which read "Jack says hey."
We learn that although Jack won’t drink with Arthur Drake, he will break into the Palace of Versailles with him.
He doesn’t know who Aida Gallo is and he met Ed Mulroy while gambling.
Jack states that he has never committed an act or terrorism in his life (although the renovators working on my apartment would disagree). While he is not a terrorist, he admits to being a ‘master of melting disguises’, an obvious reference to his now-wearing-thin cabaret get-up.
In the end, the noble Jack takes over, and he makes a deal to take all of the blame on the condition that Clusine lets the rest of us go free. Clusine agrees and Jack details his supposed involvement with ISIS, the agency, not the goddess. During the ensuing confession, Jack threatens Clusine with hot coffee, who in turn threatens Jack with a new brand of diuretics that have a bizarre laxative effect.
Jack reveals that he met Mulroy while gambling for Russian artifacts, he freed some young people being used as slaves in South America, got into a bar fight with Mulroy in Monte Carlo and was sent to Paris, the city, not the agent, to remove Mulroy from the equation. Then he argued with Clusine about possible euphemistic uses of the word remove.
Clusine is stunned to learn that Mulroy is, in fact enamored with Paris, the agent, not the city.
Jack explains to Clusine that the fault is his (Clusine’s, not Jack), because the police failed to agree to help with the rescue of Paris, the pawn, not the city. Since no works of art were damaged, he fails to see what the French authorities are so upset about.
ALEX
Next, Inspector Clusine enjoys the singing performance of Alex, the (un)trained canary. As I stated earlier, he gives a performance that would make a Vienna Choir boy jealous, and upon hearing it, I have decided to transfer him from the alto section to the sopranos.
Alex reveals that I am a senior agent, who is among other things not a good driver and capable of being very persuasive by virtue of the fact that I can kick his butt. Jack, another agent, and Mulroy, a man who enjoys hiding behind sheets, are members of the (non)mutual admiration society. Alex doesn’t know who Arthur Drake is, but he knows Michael Galahad and we were all members of a collaborative effort to break into the Versailles. Paris is both an agent and a city and there is a another agent named Chuck.
Alex knows nothing about the Hotel de Bristol, the Hotel Ritz or Aida Gallo. He is not a field agent, only an engineer, but we wouldn’t allow him to do any engineering of this break-in. He does, however, admit to shooting at Mulroy because he felt threatened by goon one, goon two and goon three. When told by Clusine that he could do better, he changes his description of the goons to large man one, large man two and large man three. He also confesses that he shot some guards, but was very sorry about it.
He agrees with Clusine that he broke into to the Versailles based on presumptions, not proof, but he did it because he was told to assist his ‘fellow agents’ and he really liked the car they gave him.
His protestations that he was never in Chile or Monte Carlo were interrupted by the arrival of some goats and sheep, but we won’t go there. He also denies ever having been involved in the Brazilian mission(!?!).
Alex professes to know nothing about any ransom demands for Paris, the agent, not the city, or Russian artifacts. I believe he summed it all up when he stated, "I don’t know anything."
PARIS
Paris’s interrogation provided corroboration for Jack’s testimony that she was held hostage by Mulroy and his goons, however, she was never in Chile, Mulroy is not enamored with her, she’s not an agent, there was some American guy from Kentucky involved at one point, and she knows Aida Gallo, who is a bitch.
Inspector Clusine’s steadfast belief that Jack is a terrorist is shaken by Paris’s revelation that he is, in fact, a stockbroker from New York City.
Despite what Mulroy said, she was not in Paris, the city, not the agent, to negotiate the release of one Aida Gallo from the deadly grasp of the International terrorist Jacques. In fact, she had a perfectly plausible (albeit un-corroboratable) explanation for her presence in gay Paris: she flew to Paris from Hawaii to have a mysterious rendezvous with a gorgeous man that hails from parts unknown and is, of course, not here to provide confirmation, nor does she know how to contact him. Paris, the agent, not the city, is surprised at Inspector Clusine’s difficulty in accepting her explanation.
Paris, the agent, not the city, explains to Clusine, that she had to escape from the Versailles, because none of us would risk life and limb (although we would risk a French national monument) to rescue her. While she did break a window and destroy some sheets, she feels that she was perfectly justified in doing so. She knew Jack didn’t have the money to ransom her, because he doesn’t possess any of the qualities of a well-to-do person: he is not well-spoken, well dressed or well mannered, although he is very nice.
Since she didn’t know anything about the Hotel de Bristol, the Hotel Ritz, or Russian artifacts, and quite frankly, Clusine didn’t know what to do with a hostage that was given a lovely dinner, treated well and escaped only to be taken back to her captors by fake French medics, he concludes his interview.
SHEILA
Thanks to the Choir Boy, I spent a good deal of time convincing Clusine that I was not in fact a senior agent, I had not been married multiple times, Jack and I are just friends, and we had no plan - we were just winging it because the French police were no help.
I endeared myself to Inspector Clusine by providing him with the vital facts necessary to the case. Clearly, I wasn’t driving a getaway car because nobody got away, my last is Lysniewski, not Lewinsky, and I was really at the Versailles to pick up some friends and do some gardening (tending the flowers, driving a car through them … a lawn job none the less), and only the French would be so concerned about a couple of pansies (more on (Up)Chuck’s date later).
Clusine asked some pretty silly questions, such as what was in the car. I educated him - a steering wheel, shifter, gas tank, glove box, engine, transmission and at times people, meaning Jack, Arthur and Alex. I told him that we discussed pasta while in the car. He also wanted to know where the cruise ship that I met Jack on was (in the water, duh) and what was happening on the cruise ship where I met Jack, but he didn’t seem thrilled to learn that there was dancing on the Lido Deck.
I also gave him the facts about the group: Paris is a lovely lady who has a lovely evening wherever she goes, Jack is a gambling payne in the ass sometimes, but overall a nice guy - not a terrorist at all, Arthur Drake has an aversion to nail polish and a weak stomach, and I really don’t know much about Alex.
For some reason, he was incredulous that Paris, the a.. person, not the city, was able to secretly tell me that she was being taken to the Versailles, despite the fact that her captors were shooting at her.
I provided him with other facts, although I vaguely recalled the name Aida Gallo, I don’t know who she is, the Hotel de Bristol is a lovely place with a couple of floors and I’m an excellent driver.
He wanted to know about Monique, but, frankly, there are too many in France for me to know which one he meant. Clusine tried to convince me that a dart in the door at the murder scene of Monique, the maid, belonged to the weapon of Jacques, the terrorist, who killed her. I pointed out that there was no problem here - the dart missed so Jack couldn’t be responsible.
His accusations that I broke into the palace were absurd. I went through an open window!
He was still missing some vital trivia facts, so I helped him out. Brazil is both a country in South America and a funny movie, chilly is not quite cold, but not warm either, stolen Russian artifacts are not in the possession of their rightful owners and friends is not a euphemism, but a noun.
For some reason, Clusine thinks that I have quite a few male friends, and now I know why he thinks my name is Lewinsky.
What else did we learn? Clusine didn’t want another cup of hot coffee and Jack didn’t call him a dirty frog, but I may have.
As with the previous interviewees, I informed him that the whole mess was his fault, because the Parisian police were not willing to assist in the rescue of Paris, the a.. person, not the city. It seems to me that Inspector Clusine is on this vendetta simply because he was embarrassed that he was laughed at for looking for Paris, the person, in Paris, the city.
ARTHUR
Arthur stretched the limits of Inspector Clusine’s English comprehension by telling him that he was here because a friend had run amok of foul play. (Many of us are still trying to figure that one out.)
Clusine also leaned that Paris, the a.. person is a travel agent! (Up)Chuck also offers to help Inspector Clusine take a few pounds off and tone up, but Clusine is not into the fitness movement.
It becomes apparent that nobody knows anything about the hotels of Paris, the city, not the travel agent, because they are all staying at Chez Sheila. ((Up)Chuck gains some points here for being the only one to know how to correctly pronounce my last name, but his failure to remember my given name puts him right back in the red.)
The ever righteous Arthur claims that he didn’t shoot any guards, only terrorists.
At any rate, Arthur clears everything up for Clusine by admitting that he is an agent for CHAOS, hell-bent on world domination, Aida Gallo is some sort of potato wine, he knows Chuck Norris and wants sanctuary. He also assures Clusine that Mulroy is a terrorist that has money problems with the Russian Mafia, he (Arthur) knows nothing of the Hotel Ritz (except that he can’t afford to stay there), he doesn’t know what a Russian artifact is (but he assumes they are expensive), he didn’t see the bomb at the Versailles, but he is sure that it was there and it was big.
After admitting that he was the mastermind behind the break-in at the Versailles, he accuses Clusine of being delusional.
***
I’m told that Clusine took his notes along with the extra large bottle of extra strength aspirin he had confiscated from me and retired to his office in order to review them.
***
(Clusine’s review)
Paris, the person, is apparently a victim, kidnappee, lovely person and (travel) agent. Jack is an international terrorist stockbroker who dresses as a cabaret performer and professes to be an agent working for the good of humanity. Alex is easily intimidated by anorexic women, easily influenced by peer pressure and easily persuaded to do things by being given a cool car to drive. Okay, he’s just easy. Sheila is a senior agent, museum archivist, inn-keeper, black widow slut who can’t drive. Arthur is a weak stomached mastermind with a weakness for someone named Bambi, and, of course, a CHAOS agent.
Jack may or may not have been responsible for a recent air disaster, may or may have not stolen/lost Sheila’s car, and may or may not have run down a policeman on the streets of Paris, the city, not the agent.
Mulroy may or may not be enamored with Paris, the person, not the city, who may or may not be an agent, victim or travel agent.
Aida Gallo may or may not have been involved, but she is/was surely a bitch.
Sheila may or may not be a good driver, but gardening staff at the Versailles have their own opinion.
(Up)Chuck may or may not be gay (according to a certain Parisian detective), and he may or may not be the mastermind of the operation, but he is definitely afraid of French physicians.
All of the suspects may or may not be agents, but they are all surely crazy.
Of course there is also some confusion, regarding ‘oo met ‘oo where: Jack met Arthur in Washington, D.C., and Arthur knows Jack and Sheila through Paris, even though Sheila met him a year ago in New York City. Jack met Paris, the victim, not the city, one year ago in Bermuda, but Paris only met Jack a few months ago at a gambling club. Jack and Sheila actually both met in Bermuda, but Paris, the (travel) agent, not the city, met Arthur and Sheila a few months ago at the same club where she met Jack, while Sheila met her close to a year ago in Virginia and (Up)Chuck met her in New York city a couple of years ago.