“I think I’ve got a hot one!”
“What? Like Netanyahu, or Angela?”
“No, we got busted on elected leaders – you know that.”
“This guy writes fiction. Len –“
“Nourse?”
“Hey you dweebs!” Everyone in the NSA boiler room turned towards the boss.
“Just how many of you guys are tracking this ‘Len Nourse?’”
There was a lull, a pause. Silence. Not a good sign.
“Do you mean, ‘tracking’ or ‘messing with?’”
All heads looked around to see who the guilty ones were. About fifteen hands went up.
“I’m just messing with his garage door… and publishing renig’s”
“FIND TERRORISTS, KNUCKLEHEADS.”