Thursday, March 15, 2012

Agents Infiltrate Polite Suburbia with Mixed Results

CWMC Heaquarters, Ardrossan, Ab:  Faced with another financial fiasco, the President has pulled the plug on Operation Blow-Molded Plastic Shit in the Yard after a brave, but possibly over- ambitious attempt to blend in with "normal" society in order to perform important market research on behalf of the Company has reached a state of crisis.
  Agents  were dispatched to quiet commuter neighbourhoods to live among the suburbanites, learn their ways, and try to understand their customs and rituals. After they were accepted by the locals, Agents would gradually try to teach their new friends about the path to salvation through the purchase of some kind of old piece of shit and the subsequent lavishing of much attention and cash upon it. Converts would of course be gently steered in the direction of HQ, where, for a trifling tithe, all of their recently fashioned fantasies could be realized. Rusty Lancias and dented Polaras would come from miles around; seeking salvation at the Mecca of Mud, the Vinyl-Top-Vatican... the CWMC Body Works Division.
2111 & 2112 stop by HQ for G&Ts...
  Merciless and cruel, the Body Works Division has seen the ruination of many a vacation fund, the ravaging of a thousand year-end-bonuses, and the pillaging of many multiple mutual fund portfolios. Victims Customers still arrive, but the President needs cash daily now, his bank balance buckling under the weight of his own insatiable appetite for rust-bucket mayhem. Operation B.M.P.S.i.t.Y was going to provide the customers, the B.W.D. would separate them from their cash. Everything looked foolproof; Agents were provided with lawn mowers and clean clothes and sent out into the field to live among the native suburbanites.
  As things turned out, the Agents had a little trouble blending in; as much a function of an appalling lack of prior research as any other single event. It seems that suburbia has a subtle subtext to it; the idea seems to be to not have a cool car but rather to borrow a shitload of "money" and buy one of the sorry things on offer anywhere credit is pimped in 84-month sentences.
Full Presidential Approval? Does the Pope shit in the woods?
  Agents 1086 and 1099 were shocked to find that, not only were their new neighbours not lining up to check out the fuckin' wicked chrome sidewinders on their '76 Stingray, but in fact most of them found the whole thing a bit rude. Mystified, Agent 1086 tried a few deadly full-throttle burnouts for maximum decibel awesomeness, but was again rewarded only with the muted howling of crying babies and the faint, dry whine of approaching sirens.
  Meanwhile, Agents 2111 and 2112 were faring little better in their attempt to blend in, hidden carefully in the quiet residential section of another small commuter town several miles East of HQ. Someone apparently forgot to inform the enthusiastic young Agents that parking 17 dead cars on your previously pristine lawn was a recipe for resentment amongst the locals, most of whom did not share the Agents' enthusiasm for gigantic, rusty C-bodies and insane VW-powered trike contraptions. Pitchfork-waving grannies are regularly seen encamped outside the front door, and stealthy exits have become the norm. Agent 2111 has even resorted to weekly colour-changes on many of his Agency Cruisers, but to no avail, as no one else in town is driving a 1967 Plymouth Fury I station wagon of any description.
Wagons are cool, Furies are cool...Fury wagons? Oh yeah.
  Despite some modest success in generating work for the B.W.D.; most of it caused by locals acci- dentally vandalizing their own vehicles, the Operation has been suspended and Agents are being encouraged to vacate these hostile environments, or at least hide their Cruisers in garages.
   "The situation is worse than we thought," said a lightly anesthetized President today in an interview from HQ, where attempts to hide the ever-growing pile of motorized litter by letting the grass grow really tall are meeting with similarly ambiguous reviews.
  "...but, unlike that Fury wagon, we have lots of options."