Tagged: codebook

I Assure You

  • by jenentirely appropriate for you to laugh
  • screamer extraordinaire
  • The weird part is what I *do* with the pizzas.
  • did more than have dinner together. Duh.
  • rub his mouth on my head

Tune in next time part 877      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I assure you, dear reader, that it is entirely appropriate for you to laugh when you picture me attempting to cut my way out of a two-man horse costume using a battery-powered nose hair trimmer. Go ahead and laugh even harder when I tell you my attempt failed. You see, Small Dennis was a screamer extraordinaire, and as soon as he saw what I was up to, he let loose an ear-splitting yelp. While the corduroy costume we shared, and the bathroom walls, would dampen his cries somewhat, I couldn’t take the chance of him drawing Titania to our position. I turned off the trimmer.

“Dude!” I whisper-yelled. “Doesn’t it feel like we’ve been trapped in this horse costume together for months?”

“Yes,” he hissed back. “I could swear we’ve been sweatin’ it up in this thing since, like, November. But that doesn’t matter! The mission matters!”

I sighed. It had been a long time since I’d worked with anyone so dedicated to his cause. “Tell me about this mission of yours.” I hoped he’d be so distracted in the telling that he wouldn’t notice me trying to unstick the zipper. I cautiously slipped my hand out through the hole under the tail.

“I can’t tell you the details, but it involves the pizzeria code. I have to send a message. The weird part is what I *do* with the pizzas. You know, after the message has been sent.”

The pizzeria code was popular among philandering spouses. They wanted their pizza parties to look innocent to outside eyes, but of course the cheaters did more than have dinner together. Duh. My own father had developed the code years before I was born, and he was one of the few to use it outside of extramarital shenanigans (he used it for those, too, of course). Was Small Dennis in league with my evil father? Or just having an affair?

I managed to get the zipper unjammed, and inched it slowly along. I was trying to keep Small Dennis from noticing, but I failed. He tried to whirl around indignantly, but since we were confined together inside a constricting cloth prison, he did something much more like rub his mouth on my head.

He then pounced on me and we fell to the floor in a tangle of sweaty brown corduroy.

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The Make Everything Sound Dirty Code

  • by jenwhich people tend to find charming
  • visible from our tower
  • greases itself daily
  • an abrupt turn on Tuesday
  • but he never showed

Tune in next time part 713      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The Make Everything Sound Dirty Code is the sort of code which people tend to find charming when they first hear about it, but grow to despise when exposed to it in the field. It poisons your mind, and soon everything, no matter how innocuously intended, takes on a lascivious double meaning. I don’t like to even think about it. “That’s what she said,” I muttered. It was starting already! “If this keeps up, I’ll scream — name of your sex tape.”

Fleur looked at me pityingly. A uniformed woman ran up and handed her a slip of paper. “We’re being hailed by Harmonian Air Traffic Control,” she whispered.

I read the message over Fleur’s shoulder. “Contrarian Airship, you are visible from our tower. As you know, our landing strip greases itself daily as a defense against invasion, and our heat-seeking missiles are cocked and ready. Turn back now.”

My brain was reeling with innuendo. Greasy landing strips, fully-cocked missiles. Fleur could see the panic in my eyes, and did the favor of slapping me across the face.

“Thanks,” I said. “I needed that.”

“Airships are slow-moving,” Fleur reminded me. “If we want to avoid war with Harmonia we need to execute an abrupt turn on Tuesday, no later than 1:00 in the morning.” As she finished speaking, all the grandfather clocks aboard the zeppelin struck midnight. “And now it’s Tuesday. We have to get the engines started again, pronto.”

I looked around for the groom, but both he and bride were nowhere to be seen. “Where is John?” I asked.

“He went down that corridor.” Fleur pointed.

“Toward the escape pods?!”

“Of course he saw them during the safety drill, but he never showed any interest in premature evacuation.”

“That’s. What. She. Said.”

I ran after John at top speed.

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Read This Way, the Message Still Said Nothing

  • by jenshorts held up by suspenders
  • while we limber up
  • experimented with it at parties
  • his revenge should be protracted and terrible
  • the precision and cold-blooded nature

Tune in next time part 641      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Read this way, the message still said nothing about the accompanying photo of my mother dressed only in shorts held up by suspenders. Perhaps I needed to rotate it 90 degrees and try it that way? I turned the page sideways, which made my brain cells scream, “Slow down while we limber up!”

Aha! The limbo code! Of course!

It had been outlawed at the Academy, but I and some of my fellow students learned about it and experimented with it at parties. I was one of the two who mastered it. John was the other. I recognized his handwriting now, and knew that if he learned Hildegard and her father had showed this letter to me, his revenge should be protracted and terrible with the precision and cold-blooded nature of a shark.

Was my new father-in-law trying to get me killed?

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Brady’s Use of the Glassblower’s Code

  • by jencroak out a honking little cry
  • his subtle middle finger
  • “Get him!”
  • Were they plotting against me?
  • “Go! GO!”

Tune in next time part 511      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Brady’s use of the Glassblower’s Code startled me so thoroughly that all I could do was croak out a honking little cry of surprise. I tried to pass it off as a reaction to the nurse’s not-so-tender ministrations. Brady signaled me further with his subtle middle finger (not in the way you’re imagining). The message he conveyed was that there were enemies all around and their orders were merely “Get him!” — meaning me. I looked at the nurse, who was busy undoing the many buttons of my mountaineering uniform’s vest, and the bear. Were they plotting against me? Was the bear not really a bear?

“I only have a moderate understanding of weather control devices, from tinkering with my brother’s,” I said, warily watching the nurse and the bear. “I’ll be fine for casual bluffing, but if Scrim asks any detailed questions, I’ll be out of my depth.”

Brady merely shrugged. Perhaps he wasn’t passing signals after all. Perhaps he was just weird.

“No weather control devices that I’m aware of use etching paste,” I added.

Brady twitched his right ring finger, which if he was using the Shadow Puppeteer’s Cypher would mean, “Go! GO!” But nothing about his demeanor suggested urgency.

Should I let the nurse continue to undress me, or make a break for it?

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Tallulah Signalled Me So Frantically

  • by Kentcan’t you hear the thunder?
  • there’s a man with a gun over there
  • with great firmness
  • Our plans worked to perfection
  • his was a familiar name

Tune in next time part 128                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

Tallulah signalled me so frantically I thought I might need to fake another coughing fit. The message was, “Can’t you hear the thunder?” which I recognized from the agency codebook. The meaning: “Shut up before I strangle you from inside your own fancy clothes!” The agency had a very comprehensive codebook.

The waiter remained calm. He said, “Sir, there’s a man with a gun over there. And over there, and there, and there… all the way around your table.” He plated my dessert with great firmness, and as he set it before he said, “Our plans worked to perfection, but then so did our adversaries’. This is how it is sometimes.” He deftly knocked my fork off the table, and stooping to pick it up put his face near enough my ear introduce himself in a discreet whisper.

His was a familiar name.

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