The Double Cult Cha-Cha: An Al Squires of the Protectorate Story (Book 1)

Ch. 5.1: Enter Chief 'Clank-N-Crank' Wandsworth; or, To Sylvie's Lab I Go

Okay, no matter whether you moved right on to this chapter or not, I am well-rested and ready to narrate. That's one of the best things about being self-aware: you can consciously take yourself out of the narrative in order to narrate your story; thus, making Time not the same for both sides of the page or screen. If you have any philosophical questions about that and other things like it, please wait until the end of the story, when I will do my best to sum it up at the end. You won't be disappointed. At least, I don't think that you won't.

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It took me a minute or two to get from the bullpen to the door to the Chief's office. At least, it is this time. Remember last chapter, when I said that the HQ has some 'spatial anomalies?' Well, these anomalies include the dimensions of the place tending to change in random ways. Sometimes the distance between things changes; sometimes the walls and/or the ceilings of one or more rooms get higher or shorter; sometimes, rooms can even get moved around into different places without anyone even noticing. I remember this one time when the bathrooms had moved to different and separate parts of the building. It took close to an hour to find them; it wasn't a pretty sight. Hold on, sorry, I'm doing it again. Focus, pal. You need to focus on the narrative; the details, though helpful and amusing, are not important right now.

Anyway, I was at the door to the Chief's office. It actually pretty easy to find, because his name is printed in big black letters on frosted glass on the door: "Herschel Oren Wandsworth, Chief of Operations of Protectorate Divsion 31415."

I moved my fist up to the glass to knock on it, when the Chief's voice loudly said, "Don't bother knocking, Squires. I know that you're here; just come in, already."

'One of these days, I'm going to find out how he does that,' I thought as I opened the door and went on in.

For those of you who're picturing the Chief like a pissed-off police captain in an old cop show, you're close, but only by half. For those of you that are picturing him like the Wizard of Oz or the like, you're in the right neighborhood; you just haven't found the right address yet. Read on, and you'll see what I mean. I walked into the Chief's office- which was decorated the one would expect any boss would decorate their office (again, use your imaginations)- where Chief Wandsworth was sitting behind his big oak desk. Well, I say 'sitting,' but that wasn't necessarily the case. Nor was he 'standing;' he's been stuck doing a bit of both at once for years.

"Come in, Agent Squires," he said in his deep, raspy, yet refined, voice that always reminded me of Christopher Lloyd with a somewhat noticeable Yiddish accent with hints of Hans Conried thrown in. (You know, Hans Conried? Maybe you'll recognize this: "THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE, TIGER LILY!!!" I can't say the name of his most famous character outright; I think you can guess why.) "We need to discuss the No-Warehouse bust. Or, rather, the events after the bust."

As I walked in closer into his office, the Chief's glassy amber eyes were practically staring holes in me; he only blinked once, with an audible 'clink'. If it wasn't for him shouting, I wouldn't have able to have guessed what his mood was; his expressionless face was like that. Not because he's aloof or stoic, mind you; but because his face was made of porcelain and ceramics and was incapable of emoting. There'd been rumors that he was going to get a face that emotes for his next upgrade, which will benefit us all. If the rumors were true, of course; he probably likes keeping us guessing what kind of a mood he's in.

Perhaps I should explain. Before he was Chief Herschel Wandsworth (AKA, Chief Clank-N-Crank), he was Hersh Wandsworth, Kabbalistic Pop Mystic, one of the best agents of the Protectorate of the time, and above all else, one baaad mensch. From what I could gather from what I gather from his old case files that weren't above my clearance level, many of his missions included many confrontations with MetAnarchy, a multiversal anarchist organization, and the polar opposite of the Protectorate. Remember when I said that there's one multiversal organization that was the nemesis of the Protectorate, well, MetAnarchy was it. I know that anarchists aren't supposed to be organized, but in order to gain and keep control over parts of the Multiverse, they needed to be somewhat organized in order to stay relevant as well as make more of a dent to the establishment. They're still around, but they're not the multiversal threat that they used to be. They mostly either keep their territories afloat or deal in multiversal crime these days. At least, that's the official statement. Not necessarily the true one.