The Poisoner

"No! Why? Well, what..." It was a big day. The current government had officially stepped down, and a new government had been chosen to take his place. It was meant to be a historic day- a fresh government, a fresh start for the town- but protesters flooded the streets, waving signs, making a huge racket and chanting so loudly that the windows trembled. The result was less "historic ceremony" and more "extremely loud argument." The shouting was relentless and deafening, but after 1 hour, the Blue House members couldn't endure the noise anymore. They headed back to the grand Blue House, and that was Bob's chance.

As Bob slipped away from the building crowd, excitement and slight nervousness surged through him. His evil, simple- and in his opinion- brilliant plan was to poison the new government, Bobby. Bob rapidly looked around the perfectly symmetrical Blue House (BH) for an unguarded door. Ah hah! he thought, as he found exactly what he was looking for. A narrow but still grand, unused entrance. He carefully eased the door open, making sure it didn't make a sound. It didn't. Bob snuck in right after all the BH members left the main hall. A dressing room with the waiter's uniform (and everyone else's) was what caught his eye immediately. The door was already slightly ajar, which worried Bob, but regardless he walked in. "Phew!" Bob quietly said to himself, relieved. There was no one inside, which was definitely him just testing his luck. Rows of fresh, ironed uniforms hung neatly from a polished steel rack, so Bob proudly tossed one on. Luckily, it fit perfectly, like it was custom-made just for him. The alternative would have been very embarrassing. He saw something in the corner of his eye, and he swivelled around. Wow. Bob was really lucky. It was a glass, and next to it was a wine bottle with a bright sticker on the bottle that proudly announced that it cost $99.99 and had come from the almighty BottleMart. He carefully poured the expensive wine into the glass, and Bob felt like he was a real waiter. Only problem, if he tried signing up, he would be immediately busted. "Perfect," he told himself, grinning. He reached in his large woven pocket of his pants and got a small packet- but with large, cheerful bubble writing- labelled "Pink Poison Powder" out. Subtle branding wasn’t really the manufacturer’s specialty. In fact, Bob was the manufacturer. Anyway, he sprinkled some into the glass, which might have been from GlassMart, until he was satisfied, and it instantly dissolved silently, leaving no trace at all. He grinned again. Bob headed out of the change rooms, and towards the main lounge where Bobby was. He was actually in the BH! However, Bob was smart enough to not explore and do what he was meant to do and the whole reason he wasn't at home watching TV. Focus on waiter-ing, focus on waiter-ing, Bob told himself. He was doing a pretty good job at waiter-ing. Not a drop of wine splashed out of the glass. Ooh! Bobby’s here! Bob thought as he drew quite near. "Uh, hello, Bobby, would you, uh fancy a -a drink?" His voice wobbled, but he prayed it was enough to cover his identity and intentions. "Yes please. Thank you!" Bobby smiled in a friendly way. It was hard to believe he was about to be, erm, killed and he felt a flicker of guilt, but it instantly vanished. Bob broke into a run for the exit, chucked his disguise back into the changing rooms without even pretending to fold it, calmed down and went back to simply walking when he exited the Blue House. Relief washed over Bob as he didn't get caught, and he strode back to the Cottage. He was free. He was going back home. The Cottage is a facility where the finest, most effective and best poisons are brewed, and it is so secure the NO ONE (except Bob) has gotten through the first layer of about, well, 523 layers. Secure, right? And oh, trust me, this was far from the first poisoning he'd ever pulled off. This dude was seriously experienced. It's pretty much his hobby.

Back at the BH, 10 minutes had passed. Something really strange was going on, and a REAL waiter came to the lounge. Oh. Unfortunately, the new government was currently doing an excellent impression of a (dead) statue. I wonder why. The waiter (her name is Bobbi) froze. Then Bobbi screamed, and everyone, like, EVERYONE, in the BH came running over. And that's when they witness it. There's not really anything they can do about it, other than call the 123 (the town's emergency number). So, guess what: they did! In just under 2 minutes, there was a tremendous crash as the front door burst open & slammed to the ground, and they hear a movie- famous line: "123! POLICE!" After 29.9 whole seconds (apparently no one wanted to round that up to 30) of everyone simply being frozen and staring, not knowing what to do, one person comes up and advises them of the situation. They think of this for a split second (not even!). Without having to use their brain (they do, though) the police know what to do. Since the BH has it, the police check the security cameras. And they have a lot. Seriously. Like, 3 security cameras per square meter. Privacy wasn’t exactly one of their priorities. It was really simple to identify who was the suspect was, so there was a small race who would find the suspect first. One particularly tough- looking officer found the footage in record speed, 1 minute 27 seconds, to be exact. "Aha! Bob McBobbybob! Of course." triumphantly shouted one. "Oh yeah! Bob! You're right!" agreed another. That was all the Blue House members needed to hear. A member of the royal crowd immediately contacted the Royal Quack Air Force, requesting a strike on the Cottage. The Air Force didn’t even need to ask why- they just needed approval from the Royal McBob Air Base (NOT named after the infamous protester Bob McBobbybob). Not too long after, there was an agile fighter jet loaded with nukes, bombs, missiles and an alarming number of other explosives streaking across the sky at an outstanding speed. Inside the cockpit, there was a lot going on (and there was a live stream, a banana and a chip packet). FYI, the chips and bananas are extremely vital for flying. Always. "Bravo, Oscar, Bravo, Papa, Alpha, Tango, Romeo, Oscar, Lima, WUN TWO TREE, target sighted".

WARNING! From here on, there will be some dramatic scenes.

The projectiles were fired, aimed for the Cottage. The kind-of-skilled pilot knows that if he stays at that altitude, he'll be part of the incident, so he decides to rapidly ascend. But his engines have other plans. "Oh no stall...", he mutters to himself, panic rising into his voice, "AGH! PAN PAN! PAN PAN! no- MAYDAY! MAYDAY!" It's too late. The bullet did successfully hit the Cottage, but sadly, the advanced F-35 dramatically plummeted towards the ground. BOOM. There was a ginormous explosion in, not 1, but 2 areas. The sky goes red. The grass goes red. The firetrucks are redder than usual. The Blue House turns into the Red House.

In the aftermath, there's not many humans, just a few that survived in the Blue House. But little did anyone know... that Bob McBobbybob had not yet been defeated.