by FRANCIS GRECOROMACOLLUDEN, Alternate Reality News Service National Government Deconstruction Writer
Luke Farrtarenfeather has the weight of somebody who is five foot five inches tall distributed over six feet two inches. He has the twitchiness of a deer in the forest always expecting somebody around the next tree to give it a wedgie. At the age of 15, the big round glasses he wears look older than he is. Are you expecting Farrtarenfeather to be wearing a pocket protector? If so, you won’t be disappointed.
Farrtarenfeather may seem an unlikely person to bully his way into secure government buildings, but he knows the magic words that guarantee him entry anywhere he likes: “Say hello to my little friend.”
For example, when he politely asked for entry to the offices of the Department of Rainbows and Sunshine, he was told that he didn’t have appropriate authorization to be in the building. But when he said the magic words, not only did he get in, but all of the employees of the department were forced out onto the street, their computers were seized and the locks on the doors were changed.
It didn’t hurt that Farrtarenfeather’s little friend was a federal marshal whose body could contain three of him and still have room left over for an entire turkey dinner (including stuffing and cranberry sauce).
“That’s just nuts, and I’m not talking about an ingredient in the turkey stuffing!” exclaimed token smart person Amy Sheshutshotshitbam. “Farrtarenfeather is a member of Elon Threelonemuskateers’ Pimple Posse. Need I remind you that his Department of Political Enfeeblement is not an actual government department, so its members don’t have the authority to enter a government toilet, much less a secure government building? Well…I – I’m reminding you whether you need me to or not!”
The token smart person pointed out that the authority DOPE doesn’t have extends to using marshals, actual government officials, to execute its commands. “It would be like me asking my local sheriff to help me walk into my neighbour’s house, kick out the entire family, and access their wifi,” she explained. “He would laugh so hard, he would choke on the low-carb doughnut he was eating.”
When I tried to contact the US Marshals Office, I was initially told that it didn’t exist. I checked and discovered that it had not been disbanded. The second time I tried to contact the US Marshals Office, I was told that the person who had originally told me that it didn’t exist had been under tremendous stress owing to binge watching The Fugitive and had been put on administrative permanent leave (even though I could have sworn that the voice on the other end of the line was the same).
When I asked about what had happened at the Department of Sunshine and Rainbows, the Marshals Office representative said, “Oh, dearie, dearie me, that doesn’t sound good, does it? I mean, that’s not what US Marshals are supposed to do, is it? Have you ever seen The Fugitive? Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. Thank you for your concern, citizen. The US Marshal’s Department is always happy to help Vesampuccerians appreciate the important work that we do. If you would like to know anything else, please don’t hesitate to call. Bye, now!”
It took me three days to realize that the woman hadn’t answered the question.
“Not to worry,” Grey House Press Secretary Kleavittbelievitt breezily, blondily assured journalists. “The people working for DOPE are limited to read-only access to the computers they’re on.” The people in the room looked away, embarrassed that her talking point was at least two weeks out of date.
Yesterday, the pattern seemed to repeat itself. When Farrtarenfeather was denied entry to the Happy Kittens and Puppies Agency, he returned with several Federal Bureau of Instigations agents. Cue the employees getting chased out of the building, the access to computer systems, the changing of the locks.
In a press conference after the raid? – siege? – invasion? of the building, FBI Director Kash Patternovlibhell, jumping around like an ant on a hot griddle, said, “Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Not gonna tell you what the FBI was doing at the Happy Kittens and Puppies Agency. None of your business. What? What‽ You wanna challenge me? Hunh? Hunh? Hunh? You wanna go? I’m the head of the ferking FBI, motherferker! I can take any person in this room! I can take you! And I can take you! And I sure as shit can take you! And then, you’ll find yourself on a plane to El Salvador, you taco-eating terrorist! So, come on. Come on! Who’s gonna be first‽“
Surprisingly, nobody took him up on the offer.