Deep in the bowels of the FBI headquarters in Washington, D.C. is located a classified room that has been designated for the sorting, reading and reporting of all emails from governmental officials. Due to the current election, all sorting, reading and reporting of emails has been restricted to those emails from and /or to Hillary Rodham Clinton.
Time : 8 am.
Bob: Good morning Kathy.
Kathy: Hi Bob. Where is Stan?
Bob: He said he might be late today.
Kathy: Why?
Bob: We wasn’t feeling well yesterday, and he worked late last night.
Kathy: What was wrong?
Bob: Stan has allergies. He said that this room is full of mold.
Kathy: Where? Where is the mold?
Bob: I don’t know. I think it is in the air. You can’t see it.
Kathy: Well, what do we have today?
Bob: The computer reads 18,000.
Kathy: Are you kidding.
Bob: No. Actually the count is 18,316.
Kathy: No way can we do that today, or even by Wednesday. This is a joke!
Bob: We’ve got three days till Wednesday.
Kathy: But they said that on Wednesday we will be getting 9000 more.
Stan: Hi folks. Sorry I’m late.
Kathy: You feeling better?
Stan: I’m okay. What do we have?
Bob: Little more than 18,000
Kathy: Let’s get going. I’ll take household expenses, grocery orders, prescriptions, and family stuff.
Bob: Okay. I’ll take Congress – both the House and Senate emails.
Stan: That’s too much. Give me the Senate.
Kathy Who will take the Defense department?
Bob: Forget it. Just set them aside for the moment. Maybe tomorrow we can share them.
Kathy: What about the classified?
Bob: What about it?
Stan: Put them aside also. Say do you think we can get some help?
Bob: I asked Senator Reid. He said maybe.
Kathy: Forget it. When they say maybe, that is code for no way!
Stan: The election is just 60 days away. They want it done.
Bob: Who?
Kathy: The Judiciary committee. They are hot to get it done, and see what’s there.
Kathy: Let’s get going. Will do the best we can.
Stan: O.K.
Worked all morning, and stopped for lunch.
Kathy: I am getting sick and tired of this crap.
Bob: I know what you mean. It seems there is no end to the emails.
Stan: We have read about 37, 000 at this point.
Kathy: And just 7 Classified – just seven!!
Bob: No Kathy. Just 5 that we are sure of.
Stan: That’s right. Remember the one from the President. The C looked like a G.
Bob: Yeh. And the one from the Defense department. We couldn’t understand why it had a C.
Kathy: I remember. That one was a recipe for Brownies.
Bob: Maybe filled with weed, or a unique poison.
Stan: No way.
Kathy: What do you mean?
Stan: My wife made the recipe. It was great!
Bob: Your wife read the email. I can’t believe that you took the email home.
Kathy: Stan, please don’t tell us you did – please!
Stan: Stay cool. I memorized the recipe. I’m telling you they were really good.
Bob: Let’s get back to work.
Kathy: Do we have to?
Stan: Kathy. The nation is counting on us.
Telephone rings:
Bob: Bob here.
Yes
What’s his name?
Sorry. What is her name?
Any intelligence experience?
No. Okay.
She worked at HUD.
Okay.
Tomorrow morning. That’s fine.
Thanks, Senator.
Kathy: What’s up.
Bob: Well we are getting a helper.
Stan: What was that about HUD?
Bob: She was a clerk, and answered emergency consumer calls at HUD.
Kathy: Why her. I can’t believe those people
Stan: Forget it Kathy. Give her home stuff. Car repairs, medical appointments, vacations plans.
Bob: At least we got help.
Kathy: Clearance. Does she have clearance.
Bob: Top secret.
Kathy: So what! At HUD that means she can view rental agreements, and mortgages.
Stan: Cut it out. At least we got someone.
The End