Now that I’d had a taste of the job, my feet were more than itching to get going for my second mission. Director Ydnar was out that day, so his secretary handed me my paperwork. She was nice but she was no Mr. Ydnar. I missed the way he sucked the snot back into his sinuses so fast his eyes rolled back into his head before he wiped his nose on his sleeve. I missed his roaring belch after sucking down a two-liter of cola at record speed. But most of all, I missed his fatherly wisdom. He never said much, but it was the way that he never said much that gets me teary eyed just thinking about it.

The assignment that day would be a long one: A food-processor from Furniture Food-Machines and Farther, a pair of size 13 wide Birkenstocks from Foot World, a large churro with strawberry dipping sauce from Fried Foods R Us and finally that fancy lavender soap stuff from Sally’s Sudsy Soaps. I’d been to this particular strip mall many times in the past, so it was a great opportunity for me to use the new standard-issue stick-on mustaches. I chose the handlebar in black, because they were all black and the only other option made me look like Hitler.

I walked in through the fully automated doors of Furniture Food-Machines and Farther, more confidant in my ability to survive the field than I had been on some of my previous missions. I thought the management had made an odd choice by playing Christmas music in the middle of August. It made me question the character of the higher-ups. I grabbed a cart and one of the little sterilizing wipes conveniently placed in a nearby dispenser to clean the handle. Never can be too careful in the spy business you know.

Halfway to the food-processer aisle, I had to stop and slap myself for humming along to Jingle-Bells. I had fallen right into their trap and was ashamed of myself. I was more careful in the future, but almost didn’t make it through O Holy Night.

At first I thought I was hallucinating when I saw an elf march past me with a name tag reading ‘Mary Christmas’ I had to look a second time before I realized they were an employee. This was an excellent chance to test their people skills, so I approached cautiously and prepared my speech. “Excuse me ma’am.” The little dingily bell on her hat rang as she spun around to face me. “I was looking for the food-processers, where might your average customer find them?”

“Right behind you sir.”

“Thanks. You’ve been very helpful.” For a trained agent like me finding the food-processer aisle was no difficult feat, but most regular people would eventually need help in a store as big as Furniture Food-Machines and Farther. Mary Christmas was very helpful in that department and would receive credit for it on the report.

Now, imagine for a minute you come here looking for a simple food-processor. Nothing major, right? There’s probably three different kinds total in the world, right? Wrong. I don’t know who they thought was planning to make a metric ton of cole-slaw with all of those food-processers but believe me, they were prepared for that customer to walk through the door and when he did they were going to wow his socks off.

“Anything I can help you with?” She must have seen me in my temporary daze because Mary Christmas herself had returned.

“Just browsing.” Upon closer inspection I noticed her apron said ‘Store Manager’ in little red and green letters. So she was the captain of this holiday ship. I felt compelled to investigate further. “On second thought, I’d like to see that one.” As another opportunity to test their character I chose a food-processor far out of reach, high on the shelf.

“Which one?”

“Whichever one’s highest.” I gently stroked my mustache to make it look more convincing.

“Manuel!” She shouted so loud I almost lost my cool. A second later, a scrawny kid (another elf) came running around the corner. As he stopped to catch his breath I saw that his name tag read ‘E. Manuel’. This place just kept getting kookier by the second. “Ladder, Manuel.” He ran off to get the ladder. I stroked my mustache again seeing as it worked so well the first time, they still had no idea who I was.

“Which one you want?” E. Manuel had come back with the ladder with speed worthy of noting for the report. Ms. Christmas directed him to a blue industrial-size food-processer with optional cheese grater attachment and a variety of speed settings all the way from stun, to kill. The elf boy was extremely vulnerable up on that ladder, and I thought this might be a good chance for him to practice natural disaster safety protocol. I knew he’d land in the giant pillow and mattress display behind us if he fell, leaving him completely unharmed.

“Earthquake!” It was a clever cover up as I violently shook the ladder.

“What is wrong with you?” He shouted as he held on for dear life.

“The customers always right Manuel!” Mary Christmas was always looking out for the customer. I decided he’d had enough and also didn’t want to risk giving him motion sickness while he was still perched above my head, so I backed off.

“Must have been a seven on the Richter scale.” I stroked the mustache one more time. He gave me my food processor and went on his way.

“I’ll take you at the checkout.” I followed Mary Christmas through the maze of merchandise to the checkout counter.

“Odd set up you got here.” She rang up my food-processer.

“What do you mean?” I had a funny feeling she knew.

“You don’t think you’ve taken this whole Christmas bit a step too far?”

“Well I just love the holidays! That’s not a crime is it?” I was beginning to wonder that myself. I wasn’t convinced this operation was legit and needed more time to investigate.

“Is there a bathroom?”

“Yes but it’s employees only. I’d have to unlock it for you.” You mean to tell me ‘Mary Christmas’ (if that’s even your real name) you have 30,000 different food processers but you don’t have a public bathroom? Now I knew something was up. She agreed to hold my food-processer for me until I got back and then gave me the key to the bathroom.

The entrance to the bathroom was through the employee break lounge. A group of young fellows sat around lounging (as the name would suggest) watching cable TV. “Good afternoon.” I nodded, casually as I walked past.

When I got to the bathroom I noticed two main things: First, it was absolutely filthy. I’m talking never cleaned a day in its life filthy. The second thing I noticed was that I hadn’t thought through the plan beyond the point of getting to the bathroom. Sure, I had bought some time but I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold my breath and needed to think of something quick. The toxic fumes made my brain foggy and the only thing I could think to do was look around until I had something.

I had just started to wish I hadn’t looked around when I found a snazzy looking overcoat left hanging on the back of one of the stall doors. That seemed odd to me. If I had such a snazzy overcoat I wouldn’t bring it to work with me and I certainly wouldn’t want it anywhere near that bathroom. The coat was too snazzy to pass up as someone in the spy business and I’d already been looking for one since I joined the S.S.N. anyhow. It was a little bit large, but boy did I look snazzy. At least by what I could see in the dirty reflection in the mirror.

I looked down and noticed the cupboard below me had a busted padlock lying beside it. What was so interesting in there it was worth breaking in for? I was going to find out. As I bent over I nearly passed out from lack of oxygen but my training saw me through and I carried out the investigation. Nothing left but a few rolls of toilet paper. Whatever interesting thing was in there before wasn’t there any more, unless of course one of the stalls ran out leaving a patron so desperate for toilet paper that they’d mutilate a padlock to get to it, but this scenario seemed highly unlikely.

I left the bathroom disappointed that I hadn’t made any major breakthroughs in the case, but proudly sporting my new jacket nonetheless. I paid for the food-processer (which was now gift wrapped) loaded it in the car and drove .001 miles to Foot World. It was only two parking spaces over; looking back I don’t know why I re-parked. The pressure must have gotten to me but now was no time to turn soft. My mission now shifted from a food-processer at Furniture Food-Machines and Further to size 13 Birkenstocks at Foot World. Sometimes I wondered what hidden significance was behind the seemingly random items Director Ydnar chose for me but I never built up the courage to ask.

I was walking up to the front door, when suddenly from behind me, POW. A gunshot. A drive by shooting. I knew I would risk casualty by joining the S.S.N. but I never expected my demise to take place so soon. I laid flat on the ground and played dead as I watched the car drive away. They must have hit one of their tires by accident as it looked completely flat as they left. I waited an extra minute or so after they were gone to get back off the ground. Several customers stepped over me in the meantime as they left Foot World.

In that time I lay there wondering: Have I really lived a full life? Will they bury me in this jacket? (I really hope they do by the way.) Who would do such a thing?

It had to be Granny.

Next Chapter: Strip Mall Mayhem Part 2