Quote - ... have confirmed that they have spies...

OMFG.

Just when I thought it couldn't get more over-the-top... it frickin' does.

 

** The scene:** Prague, 1962.

It is a dark and foggy night. Steve Branson is waiting in a back alley near the train station, impatient to  meet someone. He draws his coat and hat down against the increasing chill... damned Euorpan winters. Never ouright cold, but instead it sneaks up on you. He hated these assignments sometimes. And for the thousandth time, he wondered why he couldn't have just taken that desk job back in Washington...

"Psst! You got a light?" came a whisprered question out of the gloom in flawless Russian. It still startled the man, even though he was expecting that very same question, and expecting that very same voice. 

"Boris old man! Good to see you!" he whispered back, in his own English tongue. The two men embraced heartily, both having a very hard time holding back sudden tears of joy.

Usually pleasantries were never observed, but it's been a year since the infamous Morphed Foot incident, and the two men were each amazed that they had managed to survive. They allowed themselves the time. 

"Stefanovich - it is good to see you too! But... it seems we have a job to do again, Da?"  Boris had that look in his eye that said it was time to get to business, and a grimness that said it wouldn't be easy. 

"So I heard. It seems our old mutual nemesis is back at it again. What do you know about it?"

The old Russian replied: "Far too many Bothans died to bring me this information, but it is accurate. It seems that the evil D.A.Z. has built a new base on a remote island, has rebuilt the Vicki Army, and has built a new secret weapon that is unimaginable!"

"You don't say... and where is this remote island? The Pacific? The Mediterranean? The Indian Ocean?"

"Nyet. They have built it in a place even more remote than you can imagine! They built it in a mysterious island near the coast of Edmonton, Canada!"

A deep chill, far colder than the fog, ran down the American's back. He knew full well just how remote Canada was. You may as well try to get the boys at NACA to build a spaceship to take you there for all the distance and remoteness this is going to entail. D.A.Z. was one dastardly bunch of evil men, and now they would be nearly out of reach. 

But, Steve had a job to do, and he had to do it well - most of humanity and all of CG depended on it! His resolve began to solidify, but he needed more information.

"Okay, then we do this, but it won't be easy. Boris, what is this weapon they speak of, then?"

A look of fear cross the Russian's eyes, but he managed to contain it. He calmly lit a cigarette and drew a heavy breath. It seemed to calm him a bit. After a couple of puffs, the explanation came forth: "Stefanovich, I know this will sound crazy, but this weapon is even worse than any nuclear device you can think of. You see, it has the power to remotely prevent speech... as a side effect, it causes the human target's form to change, making your butt look funny whenever you bend your legs."

"That's impossible!" Steve spat back in sheer disbelief. "Nobody would be that cruel! Nobody!" But Steve already knew that yes, there are men who can be that cruel. The men of the organization known as Dominate All Z-Axis. It was led by a twisted figure, a man whom they say is impossible to look upon without losing your sanity. 

He gave a brief thought to writing a small dispatch to his family, to tell them one last time how much he loved them. The very acronym D.A.Z. made it hard for him to retain his bowels every time it was spoken, for he knew just how evil they were. But he had a job to do, damnit! He steeled his resolve as best he could. After all, Humanity itself depended on this!

==

...and, that's about as much credence as one can grant to such tales.