Blunt and Jones

The door opens and Mr. Blunt and Mrs. Jones enter the room. Mrs. Jones looks as angry as you have ever seen her.

“Alan, I am dead serious. You have got to get someone else to do this mission. There is no way Alex can come out of this alive. You saw what happened to him here in a controlled setting. How do you think he can be around porn actresses all day and not have the situation completely spin out of control?”

If Mr. Blunt was paying any attention to his scolding, he didn’t give any indication of it. He stood next to Alex, glanced at the monitors to which he was connected, and asked, “Well, Alex, are you feeling better now?”

Blunt could be so damned aggravating. He tricked Alex into consuming very dangerous technology that just caused him to come within minutes of death, and now he was asking about Alex’s health as if he were simply recovering from a cold.

“No, I’m not feeling better, Blunt!” Alex responded forcefully. “You’ve gone too far this time. Go ahead and use all the threats and blackmail you want, but I’m done being your little plaything. I flat out refuse to help you on this one. You’re going to get these …. THINGS … out of me right now; do you hear me?”

“Oh, I’m very sorry, Alex. I really would help you out in a heartbeat. I hope you know that, but I’m afraid that won’t work.”

Blunt looked neither sorry or concerned.

“What do you mean, ‘that won’t work?’”

“I’m afraid the nanobots have somehow ingratiated themselves into your system in a way that we did not anticipate. Our tests have shown that they are actually multiplying in number and in strength, and we have no way of being able to remove them or shut them off.”

“What are you saying? If they get any stronger, then they’re going to kill me, right?”

Mrs. Jones and Smithers look at Blunt with shock and accusation. Oblivious to their reactions, Blunt continues. “I’m afraid the only way we can think of to deactivate them is to expose them to the Orgasmatron, and have them cancel each other out. I’m sorry, Alex, but it looks like backing out of this mission is no longer an option.”

Alex is furious. He is angry because of the situation he is in, because of Blunt’s manipulations, but even more because once again he is forced into taking a mission that he doesn’t want to do, simply because Alan Blunt acted as a puppet master, pulling Alex’s strings.

“How much time do I have?” Alex asks.

“We’re not entirely sure,” replied Blunt. “Maybe a week. It depends on how successful you are at keeping your hormones under control. The more energized the nanobots get, the faster they multiply.”

“Well, then I’d better get started right away,” said Alex, with resignation. “Where do I start?”

Blunt pulls out a folder and says, “I have the plans here to get started immediately, unless, of course, you feel you need more time to recuperate?”