"There are a few fiscal issues that I disagree with President Obama on, but for the most part I agree with his stated in goals and his actions as president." Jack handn't been aware of what was being said, but he was slightly aware that his insides were now a lot colder than he would wanted them to be. The virus did its work, and everything outside jack that wasnt supposed to be there, was back in its place after a few seconds. 

"Please, tell me more! Do you really think the president of the United States of America would have a **** cock puppet like Herman in his cabinet!?" Jack shouted hysterically while he was still trying to figure out what the **** just happened to him.

James smiled as he finished his thought,and switched the hold on his shiv from regular to reverse. 

"I think-" 

He ran forward, Jack still bewildered as he slashed upwards, slicing through three of his ribs, and swinging downward when jack let out a scream of pain.

"President Obama-" 

Jack turned around, trying to hold his mind together, trying to figure out how he could've healed from such a life threatening wound. James never let him rest, another slash downward from behind, fractured the ribs closest to his back bone.

"would be wise-" 

Getting him in a headlock, James put the point of the blood covered shard of glass against the divet on the back of Jack's head.

"to honestly have-" 

Jamming it repeatedly into his opponents head till there was a gaping hole, revealing the inner workings of Jack's now slashed open brain.

 "Someone like Herman Cain-" 

Not content with the severe damage he had dealt, James slammed the shard straight into the top of Jack's head, snapped his neck, and finally cut open his stomach, wrapped one end Jack's small intestine around his neck, and the other end of his large intestine around a lightpole near the window.

"in his MOTHER **** CABINET!" 

and threw the helpless Jack out of the window, happily watching him swing in the breeze as a swarm of seaguls skull **** him with their beaks.

Timmy and barney had just exited James study, and caught the tail end of the fight.

"WHAT THE FLYING ****!?" Barney asked hysterically. Timmy, simply quoted James as Jack's lifeless body hung like a demented pinata.

"Most people that work as a government contractor share views similiar to mine?  Government workers towing the government line? Wow, I never saw that coming!" He laughed in hysterics, completely ignoring the news that Barney just shared with him.

"Timothy, I shall be seeing you around very, very soon. Till then, think about what we've talked about, the revelations. And the releasing of the Kraken." He exclaimed as he left the room and headed towards the parking garage.

James looked on in curious fashion, Timmy didn't seem frightened at all of Barney Fife, it didn't even look like Timmy had even been punched for that matter. "Timmy, what is it you do for a living again? Just curious dude."

The weirdly blond haired man ignored the question happily. "having the Tyrant Qadafi Duck taken out under his watch!? No, the people of Libya had him taken out. I attempt to keep the economy moving."

The host laughed, covered in blood and organs. "No doubt, the people of Libya deserve great credit, but so does the US, UK, and France. We were a major part of their success!" 

After a few extra seconds of pondering, Timmy had one last gravely important question for the host. "What happened to Jack?"

"... He went for a swim."

The hospital Anton and Ballin were in couldn't be more secure, even if it tried. Shortly after the duo's return, their innards fell outward.

Charred.

Blistered.

Bleeding.

Broken.

The doctors had scrambled to get them to the ICU as fast as humanly possible. It was too late by then, they were Patients Zero and One of the virus which healed all wounds, only to make the mental scars left behind worse than ever. No one knew the syptoms, only that they couldn't die, they would just heal up as if nothing happened.

The pain would still be there, locked inside their minds, tightly wrapping its hands around their throat in their dreams till they either woke up screaming or never woke up again.

Ballin and Anton were put into thin, rigid, metal frames.

Braces large and small cuffed onto every bendable joint.

Stuffed into heavier frames that locked them in place. 

After that, those frames were put into many, many layers of  steel shells till they were nothing more than grey, metal artworks.

Their screams of fear turned to insanity.

Their minds broken into many parts from the isolation.

They would starve to death.

Be suffocated by the stench of their own feces and urine.

Drowned in their own salvia.

Starved of oxygen.

But they always healed up, woken by screams of rage and insanity. 

Each sphere was air tight, with only a single four inch drain to keep the spheres from overflowing. 

Their minds tearing apart as each second in the pitch black spheres seemed like a year.

They heard the ground erupt with each passing second.

They knew what was going to happen.

Anton smiled.

A week had passed since Jack was hung out of the window by his own intestines. The gathering had passed, and during a particularly hot day, James, Timmy, and Locality sat at one of the many park tables. Locality, a member of the Film Actors Production Supervisors of Technical Opportunities in Kentucky, Indiana, Dekota and South Carolina, or more commonly known, FAPS TOK IDS, had only joined up last month.

The new member simply stated the obvious. "Ghadafi has been stabbed in the ****. LITERALLY stabbed in the **** with a carving knife!"

James nodded in approval. "No doubt, the people of Libya deserve great credit, but so does the US, UK, and France. We were an major part of their success." He took a long sip of his beer. A smile on his face.

Timmy looked at the sunset in the distance, his eyes seemingly readjusting. He noticed a shape in the distance looking much like a **** giant squid. "No, if it wasn't for the Libyans standing up to Ghadafi," He began, dismissing the shape as a trick of the light. "The US, France, and the UK likely would have continued ignoring everything that he was doing over there. We would have continued to do business with him in blind ignorance of the peoples suffering!" There was something sad in his voice, but neither Locality or James could put a finger on it. James thought maybe it had something to do with Barney Fifes talk with him, he mentioned something about a Kraken.

James sighed, "Wrong! The US has been watching him for years. You have the typical 'America the lame' view. I wonder if being spoiled by receiving your entitlement from the government once a month has eschewed your thinking-" Locality tapped him on the shoulder. "Hmm?"

Locality was an intern for the FAPS TOK IDS group responsible for dealing with NAMBLA's legal troubles. He was placed next to Allen Ginsberg as a Documentary Assistant when he was five years old.

Allen then proceeded to teach Locality some drilling techniques with what the poet called a "Soft drill". Locality spent the next ten years in and out of therapy offices from what happened that day.

Currently though, he was about to enter a conversation. "So you're a security guard. Who gets paid. Through leeched tax dollars. Granted as bribes. To corporations under the guise of Counter Terrorism. In exchange for artificially deflating the unemployment figures. By hiring useless people such as yourself as 'Watch officers'? Yeah, keep on keeping an eye out for all those terrorists. Good work champ! And that's not what eschewed means. You're trying to say 'skewed'. Actually, you're not even a security guard. They probably don't even trust you with a plastic badge or a billy club. You're a hall monitor at best." James waited calmly with a smile on his face, Timmy started sweating bullets. If what happened to Jack was any indication of a calm conversation, he really wanted to get out of the way. 

The intern continued on, ignoring James immediate disapproval. "Ok James, now if you see any terrorists you holler out right loud, okay? Somebody will come a'runnin'." The blue haired man said, laughing as he picked up his plate and walked back into the massive Victorian era home.

Timmy was nervous, he needed to try and calm the situation down before anything stupid happened.  He raised his voice calmly to James, to distract him from delivering a custom made can of whoop ****.

"Wrong! The US has been watching HIM for years." He began, noting James shift in his attention. 'Good, keep your eyes on me Mall Cop.' He thought to himself. "We've been watching him and yet we continued to do business with him. Doing nothing about the the atrocities he was committing during the uprising, until the international outcry became too much for us to ignore." He replied back to the host, gladly accepting whatever punishment was coming his way. 

Back at hte hospital, the Kraken blotted out he sun with Liam Neeson riding on his shoulder, the famous actor looking like a dust mite in comparison to the mighty beast. A hungry look appeared in his eyes as twisted and possessed Islandsex shimmered into view in front of the colossal beast. 

A few seconds later, the Tails Doll.

Liam looked unconcerned.

"Can you feel the sunshine?" The Tails Doll's twisted and horrendous eyes blinked wildly. Its voice a haunting memory of every death ever witnessed. Liam smiled, the Kraken lifting two of its massive tentacles and crsuhed the meddling duo.

"Pathetic." Liam said, his eyes only on what he came for.

"You have the typical America the lame view?" Timmy asked, attentive to his vocal intonation and starting to like the irritation in James eyes. "This, coming from the man who claims that it's one's own fault if they happen to fall on hard times, regardless of whether the economy takes a **** or not."

The host stood up, as did timmy. 

"I wonder, if being spoiled by receiving your entitlement from the government once a month has eschewed your thinking!? Nothing like accusing someone of collecting governemnt assistance because they DISAGREE with you. Are there any other cop out statements that you'd like to make?" Timmy readied himself in a defensive position. Meaning that he simply took out the rape whistle in case Barney Fife was summoned.

James, not content with simply standing and looking threatening, reached into his pocket and pulled out a paint can of glue and some strings of grenades. 

"Its not a security guard." He said simply, rushing passed Timmy before turning around and throwing the sticky liquid on his back.

"Read the **** description," He spun hard, slapping the grenades on Timmy's back, and ripping the pins out. 

"douche bag!"

Timmy was panicking, but mostly just confused. "DID YOU JUST **** STICKY GRENADE ME? OH **** THAT!" He ripped his shirt off and tossed it at a unsuspecting Locality.

It was now stuck to him.

With three minutes on the counter. 

James continued, regardless of Locality's current problem. "It requires a college degree and experience, preferably military in an intelligence MOS and security clearance, in specific skill sets. I've also explained that during the day shift rotation there is a very heavy work load. BECAUSE these centers must be manned twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. There is a night shift... its intentionally low key to serve as a sort of down time from the heavier work loads of the other two shifts. These shifts rotate every 6 weeks." James explained while jabbing his finger tips hard into every one of Timmy's tendons, causing a paralyzing sensation in them. 

"Its not a hard job though!" He continued his assualt, whipping out a ball and chain.  "It's more about having the credentials and qualification. Essentially, you are paid for what you can do and if an emergency does happen, like it did when Irene hit and during the weekend of the 9/11 anniversary, things kick into high gear. THAT is our real objective at night, emergency response."

James spun around again, the steel ball slamming into the side of Timmy's right knee, shattering it. "The night shift is kind of on standby with a few tasks to keep us busy, but since the day and evening shifts can get extremely hectic, its nice to have 6 weeks of downtime!" James smiled happily, bringing out another ball and chain. He spun around wildly, slamming the two twenty pound spheres into Timmy's body, breaking the skin, fracturing the bones, and bursting internal organs left and right. When one of the balls would hit, he immediately spun the other way as to not lose momentum. 

At one point, he even managed to remove one of Timmy's arms at the elbow.

Timmy, in desperate need to get the **** moving again, watched in tentative horror as his missing arm began to regrow. "WHAT THE **** IS THIS ****!?" He roared, before having his jaw removed by means of fast moving steel object.

"Ith moe abouth having the cwedenthals and qualificwation." He said as his jaw repaired itself. "SERIOUSLY! WHAT THE ****-Oh fu-" Timmy was removed of a knee cap. He returned ot his thought. "Sure thing there Mall Cop. I wonder if James the Watch Man would be more of a man if his dad decided to stick around and raise him accordingly. Then again, considering it's James, any dad probably would have bolted." Timmy said, now used to the sensation of balls slamming into his face.

James was pissed now.

"Read the **** description douche bag! This one explains in as much detail as possible without breaking COMSEC!" he roared as  the chains broke, sending the steel balls screaming towards Timmy, one slammed him in the chest, breaking open his sternum, the other slammed into his left lung, cracked open the back of his rib cage, and burst out in a gorey mess.

James wasn't finished yet. He pulled out a bowie knife, said to be made from the back bone of David Bowie himself. "Depending on the agency, it can be called Operations/Intel/Communications Watch Officer, but the duties are very similar. It's called having a SKILL SET, Timmy,"

He jammed the knife deep into Timmy's skull, pinning him to the ground. "Something you know nothing about. How about doing something for Society once in a while, instead of sitting on your fat **** and collecting a free check at everyone else's expense?" James then pulled out some surgical tools while the grenades plastered to Locality's hands went off, scattering pieces of him everywhere.

The blade slammed four inches into the hard ground beneath his head. He couldn't believe this.

There was now a knife.

Stuck through his brain.

Into the ground. 

He was so **** ****.

"Financial woes are forcing school districts to shed thousands of teaching jobs, adopt a four-day school week and cut electives such as art!" The blond haired man screeched, struggling to lift his head off the ground, clearly forgetting what had just transpired. James walked closer with what looked like a handful of sticks of dynamite covered in razors. "T-those teachers apparently n-need to take a long hard l-look in the mirror as this is clearly their f-f-f-fault!" Timmy started to wonder if he could even heal completely.

James however, didn't want to look weak in front of the oncoming company. "Timmy, that tried trite 'look in the mirror comment" comment was a generalization." In a carless movement, the host threw the sticks of dynamite at Timmy's wriggling body, and watched with glee as they rolled over his body, making hypnotizing slashes where the blades pushed in. his mind snapped back to attention.

"Actually in this gathering, I stated teachers are UNDERPAID, Sorry to burst your bubble again Timmy. You burst your own bubble the first time. So I'm going to burst you." As he said this, he pulled out a length of string about forty feet, attached several threads to the tops of each stick of dynamite, walked out of distance, and sat down on the grass. "Tell me why I shouldn't sever that head of yours from those shoulders and blow them both to kingdom come?" James had lost the charming veneer in his voice. He sounded tired, stretched to his limit, on the verge of losing it. Still, he sounded like he was in charge.

Timmy took a breath and thought it through calmly. 'HOLY ****! I'M **** NAILED OT THE **** GROUND! HOW THE **** DO I GET OUT OF HERE!? Okay, okay, calm down Timmy, think! He STABBED A KNIFE THROUGH MY HEAD INTO THE **** GROUND! That's it! Just pull the knife out! I got this, I got thi-' "URK!" Timmy's body shivered as he yanked the knife out of his head and fell limp. 

"Timmy?" James said, slightly confused as to what just happened. "Did... Did he just kill himself?" In response, Timmy's lifeless body was struck by lightning and he resumed living. "Oh, uh, okay! Anyways, like I was saying... Its called having a SKILL SET, Timmy." Timmy stood up, and felt where the knife had been. There was now a scar from the top of his forehead to his top lip.

"Ouch?" He questioned himself, not really paying attention to where he was going, stepped on a stick, and blew his leg off.

"Um, anyone who works hard and gains enough experience at their job acquires a skill set. How about doing something for society once and a while instead of sitting on your fat **** and collecting a free check at everyone's expense?" James continued on, his mind trying to figure what the hell was going on.

Timmy regrew his leg in simple amazement, still not getting how this could've happened. "Can you help me out with something?" timmy asked innocently.

At the hospital, Liam Neeson had the Kraken ripped through the building in search of the two spheres he'd heard so much about. He had been planning this all along, ever since his favorite of agents Red Rumone was killed by elephant cock rammed through his **** and out his mouth. Barney Fife was one of his as well as Bob Saget. Though it wasn't the real Bob Saget, he tried to get him on board, but the Saget was too busy shoving man cock into midgets with bladed anuses to head the call. "Now... I will add you to my collection." He said as the men in the spheres screamed and raved then fell silent. A few seconds later, they started screaming and raving again.

"How about doing something for yourself for once instead of kissing society's **** all the time!?" James asked, still sitting on the grass. He had already lit the interconnected fuse. It was moving too slowly.