Poodles, Jews and Wicker Baskets

My curiosity has led me to a very troubling conclusion. I've recently decided not to blindly follow the Company's wishes. However, I won't quit because, well, quite frankly, they pay me extremely well. I make more money than you, I bet. And really, I don't have to do anything. Why, I spend most my time either shooting at freaks or blogging. Two things I'd gladly do for free in my spare time.

While unblindly not following their orders, I stumbled, or snuck, into Thompson's office. I had to find out what was going on with all the poodles, and the new girl. I knew they were connected. I could feel it in my gut. And I was right!

I searched all around Thompson's office, but didn't find anything. Well, I did find a picture of his uncle:



Let's just say Thompson's the product of nepotism.

Then, I found it! A secret door, or hatch rather, was underneath the desk. I worked for what seemed like hours but was only eighteen and a half minutes to get it open. I was excited. There would definitely be a computer down there and I'd get to enter in The Numbers to keep the world from 'sploding. But I was mildly disappointed.

There was no computer. There were only wicker baskets. There were more wicker baskets than there are alcoholics in a Baptist congregation. And the smell, my God the smell. It seemed this room had not been entered in some time. It smelled like a Catholic Church. No, not the smell of pedophilia, but that smell that comes from centuries of never changing anything.

I pulled down a wicker basket and inside was a poodle! I screamed, though manly. Then, realized the poodle was lifeless. Yet it looked so real. I lifted the pseudo-dog up out of his basket and examined him.

"Stupid dog," I said and tossed the thing behind me.

Suddenly the wicker baskets started to move. They were all shaking so much that a few fell off the stacks and their poodles fell out. But these poodles were alive!

I turned to run, and when I did I saw him. The poodle I had thrown was standing there, staring at me with red glowing eyes. "Bark. Woof! Woof!" It said.

"What the Hades does that mean?" I asked.

"It means I'm going to kill you," he said.

"But I'm just a paper salesman," I replied to the counterfeit canine.

"Sorry, sir, I did not realize you were with the Company. What are your orders?"

"Um, sit?" It sat. "Stay!" It stayed. I ran up the ladder and shut the hidden door.

Primatech Poodles! Of course. I should have known. Thompson is creating an army of them.

I heard some noises, so I left quickly back to my office. The new girl was definitely aware of the poodle party under Thompson's desk. She must be in on his poodle plans.

We would be working together soon, in the next few hours. Thinking like a true Godfather I decided this would be my opportunity to find out more. I would have to stay alert to pick up on everything they're not telling me. Her power will soon be revealed. She won't be able to keep that a secret from me. Perhaps with that knowledge, and the knowledge of the pretend poodle plot, I could save the world. Then, I could be a Hero.

Wait, you're wondering "What do Jews have to do with it?" Well, I don't know...yet.