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When Director Danii gave me my latest assignment, it sounded like a piece of cake. OW (Own the World) intelligence had intercepted rumours out of
Western Canada about a potential new secret weapon code-named: Chocolate Ganache.
Danii, in her capacity as Director of Subversive Tactics, Trivia and Desserts, was desperate to get her hands on more information. Danii was well known within OW circles as a "hands-on" individual.
"Get me a picture!" she ordered, via encrypted telegram. (Danii's typos served as an automatic encryption program.)
"But…" I argued, somewhat less than eloquently.
"DO it!"
I could have sworn I heard a whip crack, but it might have just been my back as I leapt out of my computer chair and saluted the screen (which, curiously, was partially obscured by layers
of black spray paint).
I knew I'd need help on this one, so I contacted another local OW operative, Purdy, and arranged for her to meet me at the appointed destination: Milestone's Restaurant in Victoria,
British Columbia.
At the appointed hour (noon), I approached the rendezvous-point on foot, wearing my black trench coat and regulation bent-brim fedora. In retrospect, this may have been a tactical
error, since it was a warm, sunny day.
I spotted a similarly clad individual waiting up ahead, closely scanning the passers-by from behind dark sunglasses. Purdy. At the sight of her trenchcoat, a brief fantasy flashed through my mind, but I quickly used my highly developed mental discipline to suppress it. Later, I told myself.
As I approached, Purdy's head turned in my direction and froze. She slowly removed her sunglasses to reveal striking, golden-brown eyes.
I had been made. "What uncanny powers of observation!" I thought to myself. I stopped in front of her and whispered the secret recognition question, "What colour is Rippy's underwear?"
"When he puts them on, or when he takes them off?" was her instant, and correct, response.
I grinned.
She laughed out loud.
I rolled on the floor, laughing.
She rolled on the floor, laughing her a$$ off.
We hugged.
With the secret OW greeting ritual over, the crowd dispersed and we proceeded into the restaurant.
The place was packed: fortunately, I
had made a reservation. I slipped the hostess a quarter and she seated us at a window table with a view of the back alley. A drunk was watering a dumpster. I think Purdy was impressed.
To cover our
true intentions, we perused the menu, ordered two of the special, and indulged in idle chit chat. I asked Purdy for an update on our fellow OW operatives.
She glanced surreptitiously around to make sure
no one was listening in on our conversation. "I understand that Copper has been assigned to the Canine Corps…BoPeep has been appointed the Director of Strategic Defense and Sheep, Devilish is in charge
of Infernal Affairs, Kairos is on a reconnaissance mission to Studio 54, LeglizHemp is the Acting Secretary of Justice and Agriculture, Coey is trying to recruit more firemen into OW, Redy has just returned from a
tough assignment in Mexico and now her name is even more appropriate, Trish is experimenting with subliminal messages via Internet radio (which might explain why those naked men keep showing up at her door), Temp
noir is infiltrating the Rave scene, Procras108r is letting BUBBA out, CRZhorse has been captured by a group of dissident Aborigines, Joyenz is writing a Field Manual on Dating, and Blender Boy is in the lab trying
to perfect a Mudslide that can be used as a truth serum or an anaesthetic." She took a long, deep breath and a drink of water.
"As for the rest…that's classified."
I nodded, knowing better than to try for any more information.
Lunch arrived and was quickly consumed. Now the moment of truth: the Chocolate Ganache. I looked around the table and spotted the
desert menu.
I cautiously extended my right hand and picked it up. Purdy watched tensely, her eyes flicking from me to the room and back. I looked at the menu: on one side there were pictures of the desserts, on the other were descriptions. There on the front, in the bottom right corner of the page, was my objective: the elusive Chocolate Ganache.
"I think this is it," I said quietly. Purdy nodded.
But we had to be sure.
I took out my Free Dessert coupon and laid it on the table. The young, female server appeared and asked which dessert I would like. I told her. Seconds later it was placed in front of us in all it's calorie-laden glory. Rich chocolate on a pecan crust swimming in a puddle of caramel sauce and crowned with a single pecan. We stared. We drooled.
"Oh my…" gasped Purdy. She was breathing rapidly: her pupils dilated, her nostrils slightly flared.
I handed her a fork and took up one of my own. She took a bite.
"Mmmmmmmm...oh…ohhhh...ohhhhhhh!" Purdy moaned in ecstasy, her eyes closed. For a moment I thought she was re-enacting a scene from When Harry Met Sally.
I hadn't seen a look like that on a woman's face since…uh…well…ever.
I put my fork in my mouth and was stunned by a symphony of flavours and sensual textures.
I think I might even have moaned a little myself. Clearly this was a very dangerous substance…one which OW definitely needed in its arsenal.
As we rapidly devoured the remainder of the dessert, I told Purdy my plan. "I've got to steal
this menu so I can scan the picture and file transfer it to Danii," I said, urgently. "When I stand up, you create a diversion…I dunno, pretend you're choking…spill your water on the
guy behind you, or something. I'll make a break for the door when you do."
Purdy smiled kindly at me. "I think I know a better way."
She waved the server over and asked, "May we keep this menu as a souvenir?"
"Sure!" was the response.
I paid the bill (such was the lingering effect of the Chocolate
Ganache), grabbed the menu and we left, our mission accomplished.
THE END
[OuterWorlds has been unable to obtain evidence of the alleged menu - Ed.]
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