The Honest lies of a Secret Service Agent

I take a wide step forward until my toes hit the black duct-taped X in the center of the stage and inhale a silent breath. My audience is a conglomeration of artificial white light and though I’m a old man now I still pretend they’re test dummies devoid of judgement and internal snark, but I know they’re there seated quietly, as we all anticipate my talk I titled “Open Books know better” at the prestigious Stupivard University. A buddy professor of mine personally referred me to the board of trustees. He probably told them, “I have this guy I golf with, he was a Secret Service agent during Project fluidgate.. No, no sorry, he can’t talk about it, but he can sure teach these students a thing or two about academic integrity.” I was surprised to hear that thousands of young minds would indeed want to listen. They knew I had a piece of wisdom still dissolving beneath my tongue since the day I took my oath in 1970. I was 21 years old, a fresh graduate, not quite man enough for the ever-changing mold the military would demand. I thought I was too dignified, but secretly, like the other agents, I was too boyish to be hollard into a hunched, hollow submission. We liked the special credit too, and the attention from women would be a no-strings-attached benefit we especially enjoyed. “You may be here wondering what it is that makes the special agents to our dear country of Asininia special?” I feel my volume artificially echo, the spotty chuckle in the audience. “Well, I’m here to humbly tell you-it’s our unrelenting and prodigious courage.” I lie. In reality, there was nothing at all special about the service. We were trained to become sub-human to protect, not the president, but the human treasurer of our country’s dignity. “But this is no ordinary courage you were taught as kids. You are designed to surpass human courage into a supernatural kind. One where the risk of your own life is no risk at all.”

In truth, there was no courage, our anticipated tears trembled under the sunglasses when the man we stood behind inadvertently insulted his “people”.

On my first permanent protection assignment in my first Phase as a special agent in 1973, I was sent to Spain with a group of 6 other agents.

“During my 8-year span as a Secret Service Agent, I refrained from all the wonders, I’m sure you College students enjoy VEHEMENTLY. No Sex, No Smokes, No Drinking. I learned to enjoy the power I earned by abstaining from the temptation.” I lie again. I hear a few aww’s and boo’s.

On my time off, we drank heavily at the Hotel lobby bar till well past midnight. We gawked and threw broken Spanish compliments at every lady in our vicinity until I eventually found myself alone wandering outside the hotel. Drunkinlgy I surveyed a nearby residential area, watching the lit window channels change and blur with the rest, entranced by the spanish architecture, I was surprised to see a dark Asininia Flag waving on a pole on the last house, which was a tall, spacious manor with all lights on, beaming obnoxiously, It was overwhelmingly familiar. The mansion was facing forward at a T-junction. Only inevitable that I would let myself in and look around. No care of where my fellow agents were, or any thought about my career at all. I to this day remember the taste of semi-digested Vermouth bubble up my esophagus when a couple of Asininian soldiers ambushed me in the mansion living room. “Sir, this is restricted property, highly restricted, understand?” I poked my palms up, surrendering. “I didn’t know! I’m just a secret service agent off duty!” They refrained from me at the sound of my Asininian accent.

“Now, you kids are privileged to have access to these modern pockets of knowledge. Don’t dare take advantage of those who are not.” I insist.

“Oh, we are so sorry, brother! So sorry!” surprised by their sudden leniency, I felt a kick of power over them. “Oh brother. Bad brothers, you are.” I tisked.

They trembled in their camouflage, ashamed. “Brother, I’m undercover, my chief sent me here. Now you listen to me, Brother.” I pointed at their faces. “You tell me where that good Spanish Kush is so we don’t have a problem, yeah? Brother.” I snapped. “No no, brother, we don’t have none of that here. We swear it!” the other said. “But we do have something much better, brother.” They exchanged grins with each other. Morons, I thought. “Show me, brother,” I demanded, and that they did. They marched me to the very, very top floor, where they pulled open a grand drawer in a room cushioned in satins and thick red curtains. There we peered down at the fattest stash of barbiturates on a silver platter. We called them "Pink Ladies" and then something made stupid sense in my head and I backed away, watching the 2 soldiers down those ladies like candies. This familiar house, these Dim-wit soldiers, the endless supply of Pink ladies. My “brothers” soon turned grey-faced, stumbling around and talking nonsense. If they survived this trip, they’d forget. If they died, then God rest their stupid souls. They told us these were testing lairs, to test the security skills of new army recruits, rewarded with “dinner mints” that we all collectively understood were really mind-numbing, memory-mashing, stupifying dope on his Soilders, before they were shared around by one of us undercover agents in a popular party city, just to sit back and watch the Political Culture cook.

“At times, knowledge turns us into cynical creatures, know what I mean? The type that loses faith in our Asinine ways. Open books are willing and fearless. Asininia loves you, the government respects your body, your freedom, and your individuality.” I grin.

I had one of 2 choices, give it all up for the night of my life with these blue-lipped brothers, or take these Ladies far away from here, flush them down the toilets like the waste they are. I left those soldiers there in that Mansion to certainly die, running down the street I came up just hours ago, with my pant pockets crammed tight with those Pink Ladies. When I got back to that Hotel, I was suddenly wiser than I had ever been before. My fellow agents were tucked gently in their rooms, until they heard me marching down the hallway, and into my room and open the toilet. Convinced the only war, Asininia had to fear was our Asinine urge to consume a conveniently crafted ruse. My accompanying agents barged in just then. I had dumped all the Pink Ladies into the bowl, all I had to do then was flush, but they restrained me, although it was already too late. The Pink Ladies were certainly ruined, but I couldn’t let it go. I had to finish what I started. I kicked myself free and flushed the toilet. But the toilet immediately clogged and the Pink Ladies dissolved into a chunky Pink fluid, spraying every corner of the Beautiful Spanish hotel bathroom. I stood up, shocked. Then, my fellow agents in their uniform pajamas got on their knees, lapping up the fluid splattered on the tiled floor. I still remember then chocking it down “For Asininia.. Slurp we must lend our bodies..slurp for the sake of all..Slurp.” one of the agents said. I was devastated with disgust. Was there something I missed in Training? Is this a test? Am I expected to be one of them? Soon, these young secret service agents lost color, swayed around my hotel room like ghosts, and eventually all dropped into positions, no decent human would ever perform. I became immobile with shock, all my senses shrank to a quiet nightmare. Sitting there on the corner of the hotel bed. I hummed the Asininia anthem to myself quietly as the Spanish sun rose. I called my Chief that morning and numbly explained everything from top to bottom, praying he would castigate me, spit in my face, and slap it clean. I imagined he’d march up here himself and rip the badge off my uniform, but instead I was praised and promoted to my next assignment. I was revolted and loathsome of every man around me. I could refuse, rip that badge off myself, or even better, tell my snake of a Chief what a sorry coward he was, but I coldly accepted my promotion.

“Ensure that the method in which you flourish intellectually is ethical. I mean, don’t cheat, don’t let people cheat you! But, it’s ethical if it serves you, Students,” I say.

They modified the Pink chunky toilet-water fluid coating the lips of my now deceased fellow agents and applied it to the new and improved formula, deeming this as Project Fluidgate. The toilet-water version was better than the original, not because it was any less lethal, but more addictive. We dropped it into the Disco scene on the edges of California, where It took Millions of lives by 1980.

“In your service at whatever you decide to do, you will face obstacles, some of them will leave you in shame. But you must take it in stride, Ladies and Gentlemen!”

I was shamefully nicknamed “Pinky” and I let it slide until a new redheaded recruit tried it on me in the middle of a conference. I tackled him, punched and spat into his freckled face, I was so angry, I even whipped it out and peed on him, knowing I still would not lose my job.

When Project Fluidgate leaked to the rest of the Secret Service, everyone somehow knew it involved me. I was spoken of as if I were someone to aspire to be. “Congratulations, you must be proud,” My own Mother told me. I even lied to her too when I told her “I am.” “When you make achievements. Take Credit for them. Stand up tall and accept the Congratulations,” I advise.

I was scared of what I allowed myself to become. My "Open-Book" soul had suddenly shut tight.

“And you must remember, Open books are truly the enlightened books. Now, you won’t receive knowledge without breaking some spines! Do your research. Ask those questions, and be as honest and forthcoming as you’d like people to be to you.” “Sir, sir!! What about Project Fluidgate?” I stiffen. “I will not speak on that,” I said, hoping it would shut him up. I’m not ashamed I lie about my bravery, not bothered I lie about my faith to the Asininia Constitution, but what keeps me from sleep is how I lie that I did any protecting at all, when all I secretly served was myself. “Thank you all for listening, I wish you students the best of luck! Thank you, Stupivard University, for so warmly welcoming me. God Bless Asininia.” God, if you love us, please burn Asininia to the ground. I return to that X center, give a big smile as the audience erupts in unanimous applause.