Mind Bullet

mind_bullets

Blast: I killed him for real with a mind bullet. His gray matter is leaking all over his dorky, white lab coat.

Drat: Sure you did.

Blast: Blast shoots Drat with a mind bullet. I am sorry I had to do that, but you left me no choice.

Drat’s computer: Drat cannot respond because she has been unfairly shot with a mind bullet for no reason.

Blast: I don’t know who you are typing on Drat’s computer, but please get her some help. There is only one known cure for a mind bullet: Raw onions ingested for an hour. Get her some life saving roots, STAT.

Drat’s computer: Drat has been shot through the mind with a mind bullet and is now a vegetable.

Blast: She’s an onion, which is why the onions are necessary, you twat. What kind of a moron are you anyway? Who is this? In fact, Blast shoots Drat’s computer with a mind bullet flurry from which there is no recovery.

Drat’s computer: ARRRRRRGHHH!!! thud

Blast: That’ll teach you, asshats.

Drat’s computer: Everyone here is dead.

Blast: Dear NSA,
The preceding was simply a satirical dramatization. Please don’t arrest me.
Love, Blast
p.s. Drat is not really dead.

Drat’s computer: Drat is most certainly dead from an unfair mind bullet flurry which you lobbed at her.

NSA: Dear Blast,
How do you even know about mind bullets? That’s top secret, secret squirrel information. You will be taken out and shot after we torture you for your sources.
Love, The NSA

Blast: Dear NSA,
The previous satirical dramatization was purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, events, or secret squirrel future weaponry is purely coincidental and therefore non-actionable.
Love, Blast
(p.s. I know Drat is typing)

NSA: Dear Blast,
The very fact that you used the term “mind bullet” means that you have access to top secret, secret squirrel information, which is well above your security clearance (which is still in negatives, by the way). So, you will be tortured. Sorry, but we have no recourse. Rules is rules.
Love, The NSA
p.s. If you’d like to just tell us your sources, we might not torture you as much, but you will still be tortured regardless (because we like it).

Blast: fires mind bullets indiscriminately at whomever is doing all of this nonsensical typery.
Dear NSA,
I admit it, I know all about the mind bulletry program. However, you would do well to avoid me altogether, as I will not hesitate to take you fuckers out.
Love, Blast
p.s. Please send me some free pens.

NSA: Dear Blast,
If you’d like to fill out requisition form 328B in triplicate and push it through the appropriate channels, you might get some free pens. But the odds of you receiving them before we torture you to death are nil. Please call the office within the next two days to schedule your torturing at a time most convenient for you.
Love, The NSA

Blast: Dear NSA,
Your effete claims of future torture are laughable. I find you laughable. Ha! See? I just laughed. I have MIND BULLETS! How on earth would you ever even get your hands on me? Get a grip, you ridiculous twats.
Love, Blast
p.s. How about some stickers?

NSA: Dear Blast,
We tried to be nice about it (it’s the new policy), but you refuse to see reason. We even allowed you two days to settle your affairs before torturing you, but you came back with threats. Therefore, someone will be at your office sometime in the next 2 minutes to collect you. You may not make it to the office since we’ve had an inordinate number of deaths by torture on wheels lately. Anyhoo, no free pens or stickers.
Love, The NSA

Blast: Dear NSA,
Someone is knocking at my door, hang on.

Oh, it was nothing. Anyway, you have pushed me beyond limit. I am now coming for YOU. The Whole Thing. I will be there at your headquarters in DC, your secret stronghold under the mountains of Nevada, and your super super secret hideout on Grenada in a few minutes with mind bullets for all.
Love, Blast
p.s. I am taking all of your pens and stickers.

NSA: Dear Blast,
Good. It will save us the trip. That was our NSA guy come to torture you, but it turns out that the guy who came to collect you knocked on your door, realized it was apparently lunch hour and walked away. He will be tortured. Good luck finding us. We’re not on the google maps.
Love, The NSA

Blast: Dear NSA,
I killed the guy who knocked on my door, only AFTER torturing him to get the locales of all of your secret bases. Which now belongs to us. To recap: all your base are belong to us.
Love, Blast
p.s. And all your pens and stickers are also belong to us.

NSA: Dear Blast,
Bring it. We are not afraid of you. We are the NSA. We know all. We can torture anyone we please. There will be no pens or stickers.
Love, The NSA

Blast:
MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET MIND BULLET
Dear the shreds and tatters of once was the NSA,
I told you so.
Love, Blast
p.s. Your pens don’t work and your stickers are gay.

NSA: Oh, Blast. We invented the mind bullet. Do you really think we’d invent something without being able to counter it? Silly American. Prepare for torture.
Love, The NmotherfuckingSA

This post is part of the Drat & Blast series.