A Coded Message
Within the Condor 7000, somewhere above the stormy North Sea...
The duty officer is running through the maze of gangways aboard the nuclear-powered Condor 7000 airship. Coming to the Defensemaster's personal chambers, he quickly stops, catches his breath, and presses the door chime, which creates a low, resonating gong tone, vibrating throughout the dimly, red-lit corridor.
Defensemaster's voice on intercom: Yes?
Duty Officer: Sir, we have just intercepted a MEDUSA-coded, high priority message for you!
Defensemaster: Have it decoded and transmitted into my chamber. From whom is it?
Duty Officer: Yes, Sir! Right away, Sir! It appears to be from one of our agents. I don't recognize the name. The MEDUSA code is an older one, but it is still valid.
The duty officer grabs his communications device from his belt and rings the control center.
Duty Officer: Decode and transmit into the Defensemaster's chamber immediately!
Voice from device: (crackling) Yes, Sir!
Duty Officer: (speaking into intercom) The transmission will be with you shortly, Sir!
Defensemaster: Thank you, Lieutenant.
The Defensemaster's personal chambers are outfitted in rather austere, Spartan fashion. Everything is dark, sleek, dimly lit and minimalist in nature, aside from a few ritual objects of power which he has assembled throughout his many centuries on Planet Earth. These are displayed in their appropriate places of honor, almost in altar-like fashion.
Suddenly, one of the enclosing walls comes to life as a video screen. The Defensemaster swivels his command chair towards the screen and begins reading the text of the message.
MEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSA
Defensemaster!
I bring you greetings from our covert operations center on the eastern coast of the North American continent. Check it out, you need to read this message, which you can access by clinking on this link.
You may find it amusing, but frankly, I think any regime member could do better. Please transmit your commentary by return MEDUSA message.
That is all.
Hail Stingray!
EJ Ra
The Enthusiast
MEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSA
Defensemaster (muttering to himself): Sweet Jesus! And sweet mother Mary who spread her gaping crotch for ye cock of God! EJ Ra! This is indeed an interesting turn of events.
EJ Ra. The Enthusiast. A man for whom killing is just another passion, like Civil War history, imported beers, blues music and lacrosse. We shall be hearing more from him.
The duty officer is running through the maze of gangways aboard the nuclear-powered Condor 7000 airship. Coming to the Defensemaster's personal chambers, he quickly stops, catches his breath, and presses the door chime, which creates a low, resonating gong tone, vibrating throughout the dimly, red-lit corridor.
Defensemaster's voice on intercom: Yes?
Duty Officer: Sir, we have just intercepted a MEDUSA-coded, high priority message for you!
Defensemaster: Have it decoded and transmitted into my chamber. From whom is it?
Duty Officer: Yes, Sir! Right away, Sir! It appears to be from one of our agents. I don't recognize the name. The MEDUSA code is an older one, but it is still valid.
The duty officer grabs his communications device from his belt and rings the control center.
Duty Officer: Decode and transmit into the Defensemaster's chamber immediately!
Voice from device: (crackling) Yes, Sir!
Duty Officer: (speaking into intercom) The transmission will be with you shortly, Sir!
Defensemaster: Thank you, Lieutenant.
The Defensemaster's personal chambers are outfitted in rather austere, Spartan fashion. Everything is dark, sleek, dimly lit and minimalist in nature, aside from a few ritual objects of power which he has assembled throughout his many centuries on Planet Earth. These are displayed in their appropriate places of honor, almost in altar-like fashion.
Suddenly, one of the enclosing walls comes to life as a video screen. The Defensemaster swivels his command chair towards the screen and begins reading the text of the message.
MEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSA
Defensemaster!
I bring you greetings from our covert operations center on the eastern coast of the North American continent. Check it out, you need to read this message, which you can access by clinking on this link.
You may find it amusing, but frankly, I think any regime member could do better. Please transmit your commentary by return MEDUSA message.
That is all.
Hail Stingray!
EJ Ra
The Enthusiast
MEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSAMEDUSA
Defensemaster (muttering to himself): Sweet Jesus! And sweet mother Mary who spread her gaping crotch for ye cock of God! EJ Ra! This is indeed an interesting turn of events.
EJ Ra. The Enthusiast. A man for whom killing is just another passion, like Civil War history, imported beers, blues music and lacrosse. We shall be hearing more from him.
Comments
Gonar
That's entertainment!
Keep smiling!
Mark Kingsley
Camouflage Mariner