I step over the body of one of the temporarily stunned guards, who’s now bound with duct tape. I keep walking until I reach the edge of the massive gray warehouse. There was a door, which upon closer inspection was locked, but that wouldn’t be too much of a problem. I started this mission off with stealth, and it had its use, but no more. I’m gone blow the roof off of this whole operation. (Not literally, because it’d take a lot of explosives to blow the roof off the warehouse. So, you know, like a figure of speech. As in, like, oh never mind, you get it.)

I take a pistol out of its holster on my waist and aim it at the door knob. I fire, and then kick open the door. There’s about 35 people roaming around and sitting at computers, and surprisingly enough, none of them seemed to be armed.

Many of them ducked under desks, but some just froze. I heard somebody in the back yell, “No! They must have got them under control quicker than expected!”

One of the hackers a bit closer to me cried out, “We thought it wouldn’t work until two days from now!”

Confused, I said, “What? What are you people talking about?”

Someone close to me stood up and said, “We’re not idiots. We know that the government has you under control. We tried to stop it, but we weren’t quick enough. What now? You’re gonna kill us? Take us too?”

I looked at him and said, “Listen, I don’t know what you’re on about. Nobody can control the great Danny Devito. All I know is that you’re hacking into CCA’s system and trying to reveal what we do. You thought that you’d get away with it, but no. I’ll shut you down.

I swing my fist at his face, but he dodges it. He kicks me firmly in the leg, and I almost topple over. The fight is quickly put out when I land a firm hit to his jaw. His grabs his chin and says, “Is it true? You’re not under control yet?”

I say, “Under control? I work for them, but that’s it. What are you on about?”

“Can I show you an email, Mr. Devito, that may make you question your oh so amazing organization?"

“Hit me,” I respond, “but don’t expect to pull anything on me. I’ll be watching.”

He leads me over to a computer and quietly tells the person sitting there what to pull up, and in a matter of seconds an email from the CCA is on screen.

Dear Mr. President Ronald McDonald,

The plan is going successfully. We have the influencers working for us, and soon enough we’ll be able to implant the chip and they’ll be ours. There seems to be a hacking group going after our plans, and we’re going to send agent #249 to shut them down. Best regards,

The Ninja Turtles

“Well what the flippity flop does any of this mean? A chip? A plan?”

The man responds, “This is an email that we intercepted from the CCA to the president. If what we understand is correct then they’re going to put a chip in your brain to take control of you and the other celebrities that have been tricked into joining the little scheme. Their motives? No clue.”

“This is insane.” I say. All this, all I’ve worked towards, fake? An elaborate scheme made by the government? I’ve been tricked, as have the others. I’d have to shut this down. I’ll end CCA.

Everybody knows me.

They’ve seen me in movies, referenced me in conversation, all the celebrity stuff.

But nobody stops to wonder what I do when I’m not making movies.

What I do during the months where I have no scenes to shoot, no Dumbo to teach, no mamma to throw off of the train.

Well, the awnser could suprise you.

I’ve been part of a secret goverment orginization called CCA (Celebrity Cover Agents)

It’s a relativily small group. We have some big names in here, but not many major celebrities. I’m not quite sure of the point of using famous people who are often busy and quite known to fight in secret, but the Goverment’s pretty smart so I’m sure that they know what they’re doing.

My mission right now is pretty important.

I have to infaltrate a wherehouse in Canada that’s guarded by heavily armed guards. Inside are a group of hackers trying to mess with the CCAs leader’s computers. If they’re not stopped soon, then our info will be out there and the pot of problems will start to boil over.

I look through my binaculars at the wherehouse surounded by a thick shield of trees.

I sweep my gaze across the length of the wall and spot three guards popping in and out of view. As I suspected, they each carried a sizeable black shotgun. This could prove to be quite difficult.

I get as close to the wherehouse as possible without being seen. There’s a couple of trees that block my rather small body from view. I kneel down and gather a few twigs off the forest floor together and lay them under some green moss. I grab a lighter from my pocket and start the small fire. It smokes heavily because of the collective foliage. Perfect. Everything’s going to plan.

I back off a bit from the smoke that’s started to cloud the area and hide from the view of anyone who comes to investigate.

I’m crouching down when I here crunching of twigs beneath someone’s feet. They must be coming to investigate the gray cloud drifting up from the trees. A large man comes into my view and looks down at the smoldering pile of twigs.

I run up behind him and pull him into a headlock. He struggles and starts to yell, but I manage to flip him to the ground with a hip-toss. His breath’s knocked out of him, but he tries to stand up. I use my knee to shove him back down, and then pull a roll of duct tape out of my utility belt that straps along my waist. I get it over his mouth, but here crunching of leaves on the forest floor getting closer. I manage to bind his hands with it when I hear, “Hey!”

I turn around and see a shotgun leveled to my face. I duck down and charge into his gut. He doubles over, but quickly corrects himself and tries to use the butt of the gun to bash my face. I grab it and push it away, but he shoves be to the ground. From the position that I’m in, I manage to kick his hand and the gun goes sprawling across the ground. It ends up coming to a stop next to me.

He makes a grab for it, but I reach it first. I level the barrel at his chest, flinch, and bull the trigger. A shock goes through him and he falls to the ground. Breathing. Thank gosh, it must be a shock gun type of thing. I try to keep casuilties to a minumum on my missions. He should be on the ground for a few minutes.

I hear someone sprinting towards me, and I turn around and fire. The man falls to the floor. Looks like I got all the guards, and I didn’t have to kill a single person. This much is done, but now I have to get in and finish the job. This could end up being tricky.

End of Part 1.

(I wrote this song for my aunt. She was on vacation with four rowdy children.)

These kids are making me mad.

They’re always acting so bad.

They don’t know when to stop,

It makes me want to pop.

But if one thing helps make it fine

every time,

It’s wine.

At the flip of a dime

I can go drink

A glass of wine.

If they won’t shut up,

Won’t you pour another cup.

If I’m having a bad day,

hey hey, a chardene.

Would I like another glass?

Why pass.

When I sit down the waitreses know

What I want.

These kids always seem to

Hit, fight, or taunt.

Throughout the madness,

one thing’s for sure:

They never shut up,

So pour.

Pour my wine,

It’s time

to have a drink.

These kids are so loud

I can’t hear myself think.

Mom is so cheap.

My wand barely works, and it's a really old model. Half the time when I cast a spell, it misfires or does something random. Last night, I wanted to create a light orb so I could see and wouldn't stub my toe on my brother's broom (Of course HE gets his own broom) but my wand ended up making a small explosion in front of me. I almost got hurt! All my friends have the newest, most fancy wands, and I'm stuck with a model from 2017. It's all absurd. I just want a decent wand.

*Be careful, because I'm sure that he's fragile. Don't just say, "I don't have any feelings for you." Sugarcoat it.*

I set my phone down, wondering how to respond to Josh. We were good friends, then out of the blue he likes me? What do I even say to that?

My phone dings again. Jenny.

*As long as you get the message across without seeming hostile, you should be in the clear.*

I pull up Josh in my contacts, and stare at the screen, unsure of what to type.

I start my rejection note, then delete it.

Think.

Type.

Delete.

The pattern continues, until

*Ding*

It's Josh.

*Hey, sorry wrong person. Hope I didn't freak you out.*

Well, on one hand, thank God.

On the other hand, now I feel kind of let down. What girl would be better than me?

Ugh, Boys.

Together we ran

Through life without plans.

Now we just walk

Without time to talk.

I lived only to be with you,

but you threw me away,

and your other friends too.

And I know that I should

Be glad that you found your One,

But I feel so sad with the memories

Of our fun.

Now that you have your husband,

Hate him I'd never.

I just wish that our friendship

lasted forever.

No it’s not.

School’s not fun,

Can’t wait til it’s done.

If I could, I’d break out and run.

But I sit through class,

and the hours pass,

all the suckups kissing teacher’s butts.

When summer arrives,

It goes too fast,

and before you know it,

school’s already back.

We lay out, staring up at the black sky lit up beautifully by dots of light. The brisk air felt great on our warm skin. But the most lovely thing right then was us. I looked at her smile, and felt like a kid on christmas. I reached out to hold her fluffy hand, and for the thousandth time wished that I had a girlfriend instead of a teddy bear.