Coming out of the closet (literally, not metaphorically) Brenda Bruntland-Govanni realized that she had a choice: she could go down to the lab and see if Flo and Eddy had found out what the problem with the Dimensional PortalTM was, or she could go to the warehouse and see if any progress had been made with the Bob Smiths. This was like asking her if she would rather have chicken pox or mumps. She decided to start by going to the lab; she had had chicken pox when she was a child, and hoped that made her immune.
When she got there, Brenda Bruntland-Govanni found Flo and Eddy sitting on the floor, pieces of the Dimensional PortalTM all around them. Flo was looking at a long piece of metal with several holes down its side, scratching his head. Eddy was looking at a circular piece of metal with holes around its outside, also scratching his head. Brenda Bruntland-Govanni couldn't be sure (mostly because she didn't care to look for very long), but they seemed to be scratching in some kind of complex code.
"Alright, boys," Brenda Bruntland-Govanni ordered, "tell me what you've found."
The boys looked up at her.
"There's good news," Flo said.
"And, there's bad news," Eddy said.
"What's the most important thing I need to know?" Brenda Bruntland-Govanni, for whom Flo and Eddy's charm had worn off about five seconds after she had first met them, brusquely asked.
"There is," Flo said.
"Nothing wrong," Eddy said.
"With the Dimensional," Flo said.
"PortalTM." Eddy said.
"That's the good news?" Brenda Bruntland-Govanni asked, putting much effort into not slapping herself in the head.
"No," Flo said.
"That is," Eddy said.
"The bad news," Flo said.
"Why?" Brenda Bruntland-Govanni asked, putting even more effort into not slapping both of them in the head. A lot more effort.
"If the problem," Eddy said.
"Was in the," Flo said.
"Dimensional PortalTM," Eddy said.
"We could," Flo said.
"Fix it." Eddy said.
"Because it's," Flo said.
"Not in the," Eddy said.
"Di -" Flo started, but Brenda Bruntland-Govanni cut him off.
"Because it's not in the Dimensional PortalTM, there's nothing to fix. I get it. So, put it back together. I want the Dimensional PortalTM up and ready to run by 9 o'clock tomorrow morning."
"By 9," Flo said.
"In the morning?" Eddy said.
"If you manage it, I'll give you a bonus," Brenda Bruntland-Govanni told them.
"A," Flo said.
"Bonus?" Eddy asked. The expectation in their voices was not what you might expect.
"You mean," Flo said.
"You'll let," Eddy said.
"Us keep," Flo said.
"Our jobs," Eddy said.
Brenda Bruntland-Govanni decided she needed a new way of messing with their heads. Then, she remembered: "You told me the bad news - what's the good news?"
Flo and Eddy looked at each other in dismay. Before either of them could start, Brenda Bruntland-Govanni continued: "There is no good news, is there?" Again, before either of them could answer, Brenda Bruntland-Govanni held up a hand and continued: "Don't speak. If there is no good news, just hit each other in the back of the head."
Flo and Eddy looked at each other, uncertain what to make of this command. Brenda Bruntland-Govanni didn't wait to see what they came up with, abruptly walking out of the room. It was probably for the best - the head slapping in her imagination was likely much more satisfying than what her technical experts were likely to do to each other. She wasn't sure the human body contained that much blood, for one thing.
"I wouldn't go in there if I was you," Mabel rasped at Brenda Bruntland-Govanni as she walked towards her office.
"Mikhail still there?" Brenda Bruntland-Govanni asked. She couldn't hear his high-pitched whine, but he could just have been taking a breath.
"Worse," Mabel answered. "A customer. You've had 16 calls from people wondering why their news sounds oddly familiar, nine calls from people who know why their news sounds oddly familiar and want to cancel their subscriptions and get their money back and four calls from people who wanted to know where our offices are so they could picket us. Ah, the misguided passions of youth!"
"What did you tell them?" Brenda Bruntland-Govanni asked.
"I referred them to the complaints department."
"The Alternate Reality News Service doesn't have a complaints department."
"Life is a learning experience, ain't it?" Mabel's face broke into a hideous contortion that Brenda Bruntland-Govanni had long since interpreted as being a smile. "Oh," she added, "one person came in to ‘deal with the problem personally,' whatever that means."
"That means I really shouldn't go into my office..."
"I think that would be wise..."
Without another word, Brenda Bruntland-Govanni walked past her office door and towards the elevators.
"I miss my daughter!"
"I'm missing the latest episode of Lost!"
"Oww, I think I'm missing a tooth!"
When Brenda Bruntland-Govanni got to the warehouse, the 127 Bob Smiths were milling about ominously. They seemed agitated, but, she could see no immediate cause for their distress. The source of Brenda Bruntland-Govanni's distress was obvious: Darren Clincker-Belli was nowhere to be found.
"What's going on here?" Brenda Bruntland-Govanni asked the nearest Bob Smith.
"Swing and a miss!"
"I'm Miss America."
"You know, I never really understood Myst."
Brenda Bruntland-Govanni considered yelling, but worried that, in their current condition, the Bob Smiths would yell back. That could only end badly: she was outvoiced 127 to one. She scanned the group for any signs of something she could focus on, and, after a couple of minutes, noticed that one of the Bob Smiths in the middle of the group was holding a piece of paper. Wasn't Darren Clincker-Belli holding a clipboard with sheets of paper on it? Brenda Bruntland-Govanni slowly made her way through the crowd to the Bob Smith who was holding the paper, trying to agitate people as little as possible.
"Bigfoot is a myth!"
"The President of the United States is a myth!"
"Maybe, but I sure do miss him!"
When she arrived at the sheet of paper, Brenda Bruntland-Govanni noticed that a couple of nearby Bob Smiths also held sheets of paper. When she got to them, several more Bob Smiths seemed to hold sheets. Following this - ahem - paper trail through the crowd, Brenda Bruntland-Govanni found herself approaching the far wall of the warehouse. There, she noticed two things: one of the Bob Smiths not only had a sheet of paper, but was also holding the clipboard, ignoring the jealous looks of the Bob Smiths around him, and; there was a door in the wall.
Steeling herself, Brenda Bruntland-Govanni knocked on the door.
"Go away!" the weak but unmistakable voice of Darren Clincker-Belli responded. "I told you, I'm not your momma!"
"Darren, it's me!" Brenda Bruntland-Govanni shouted. "Brenda Bruntland-Govanni!"
"Oh, thank god!" Darren Clincker-Belli moaned. Before she knew what was happening, the door opened and Brenda Bruntland-Govanni was pulled into...
A closet.
"This is getting old awfully fast," she muttered to herself.
"I couldn't take it," Darren Clincker-Belli let the words pour out of him in a jumble. "They treat me like a god. I'm not a god. I'm a mathematician, for god's sake! I haven't slept or eaten in over 24 hours - the attention never lets up. The unconditional love - it's so demanding! For god's sake, Ms. Bruntland-Govanni, you've got to get me out of here!"
"Darren, I need you to focus on the problem," Brenda Bruntland-Govanni told him.
"I am focused on the problem!" Darren Clincker-Belli responded.
"Focus on my problem!" Brenda Bruntland-Govanni shouted. In the enclosed space, with the two of them practically nose to bosom, the effect was sobering.
"Oh, right," Darren Clincker-Belli quietly agreed.
"What have you learned from the Bob Smiths?" Brenda Bruntland-Govanni asked.
"What have I learned?" Darren Clincker-Belli echoed, his voice rising. "What have I learned? I'll tell you what I've learned! It is really pathetically boring to be a Bob Smith! That - that's what I have learned!"
Brenda Bruntland-Govanni was tempted to slap him, but there was really no room in the closet to wind up. "I meant about why they are here," she darkly told him.
"Oh. That problem," Darren Clincker-Belli responded. "No. They have no idea why they're here, and there doesn't seem to be any helpful evidence on them."
"Okay." Brenda Bruntland-Govanni awkwardly patted Darren Clincker-Belli on the shoulder. She was trying to be comforting, but he sagged under the weight. "You...umm, stay here. I'll send in some food. I...have to get back to the office."
"Have Flo and Eddy found something?" Darren Clincker-Belli, with sad hope in his voice, asked.
"I'm sure they have," Brenda Bruntland-Govanni lied.
She stepped out of the closet, the door slamming shut mere seconds behind her. "Animals!" she shouted at the Bob Smiths, and quickly made her way out of the warehouse.
When Brenda Bruntland-Govanni arrived back at the office, she found everybody standing outside the janitor's closet. They were staring in rapt attention at the closet door. She walked up to Mabel, thought better of it and turned to face Indira Charunder-Macharrundeira. "What's going on?" Brenda Bruntland-Govanni asked, with all the lightness of a lead balloon the size of a...oh, I don't know, the size of a zeppelin.
"Sh...sh...sh...shhhhhhh," Charunder-Macharrundeira bade her be quiet and turned her attention back to the door.
Well! Brenda Bruntland-Govanni's gob had never been so smacked! Nobody shushed her in her own office building! She was calculating the trajectories of the heads that would roll when Mabel turned towards her.
"It's a Pops summit," Mabel told her.
Mabel turned back to her contemplation of the door of the janitor's closet. Brenda Bruntland-Govanni turned with her. She had only ever heard of such a thing - it hadn't happened while she had been working at the company. She felt the majesty of the moment, the awe mingled with hope for the future and...was that a hint of coriander?
Brenda Bruntland-Govanni was witnessing a Pops Summit.