UPF SURVEILLANCE ARCHIVE: AUDIO TRANSCRIPTS
DATE: 5-22-2010
LOCATION: OFFICE OF THE SUPREME COMMANDER
IDENTIFIED PARTICIPANTS: SUPREME COMMANDER (SC), GRAND ENTRANCE (GE)
CATEGORIES: THUNDER BRUISERS, ARMAMENTS, GENERAL COMMANDER LUNACY
BEGIN TRANSCRIPT:
[SOUND OF KNOCKING]
SC: Enter.
GE: Commander, sir, am I interrupting?
SC: I’m sorry, who are you again?
GE: It’s me, sir, Grand Entrance.
SC: Are you sure? Because I do not recall anyone making a grand entrance into my humble office. I have been here all morning and have yet to see one memorable entrance, not even a bold or remotely notable entrance. In fact the only entrance I have witnessed so far was so timid, that I could never mistake it for that of the esteemed Grand Entrance, Captain of the Thunder Bruisers. In fact, the entrance I just witnessed must have been that of Scrub Brush, 37th in Command of the Janitorial Services Lavatory Division.
GE: I just thought that since I’m in the compound that the grand entrance wasn’t necessarily, well necessary.
SC: I assure you, that in your case it is always necessary. Now, go out and try it again.
GE: sir?
SC: Your entrance. You see, the key to the Thunder Bruisers success is in your reputation, a reputation built not just on the brutality of your acts in combat, but also on the manner in which you carry yourselves at all other times. You must be symbols of chaos and destruction. The world should never be sure of what your next whim shall be, but it should be relatively certain that said whim will be at best, rather unpleasant for those unfortunate souls standing in the immediate area when you choose to act upon it. As much as I hate to admit it, the world needs to think that not even I, the Supreme Commander, am fully in control of you, and that is not likely to happen if you insist on slinking into my office like some school boy preparing to meet the headmaster’s ruler. Now, go back outside and return in a fashion more appropriate to your title.
GE: Yes, sir. [PAUSE] Sir, what did you have in mind?
SC: [SIGHS] Kick the door open, stomp up to my desk and demand my attention.
GE: What if I damage the door, sir?
SC: That is unlikely as I have very effective door stops, and even if you succeed in somehow damaging my office, well then it’s all the better for your reputation. After all, how fearsome does a man have to be in order to damage my property in my presence.
GE: Right. Good idea, sir.
SC: Of course it is. Oh, and drop the “sir” routine and add a little color to your language. Remember, the rules of civil discourse do not apply to you.
GE: Right.
[SOUNDS OF DOORS CLOSING, FOLLOWED BY A LOUD THUD SIMILAR TO THE SOUND OF A HEAVY BOOT HITTING A DOOR, A LOUD BANG AND ALMOST SIMULTANEOUS CRACK, FOLLOWED BY A SERIES OF HEAVY FOOT STEPS]
GE: [IN AN ODD ACCENT, SOUNDS LIKE A CROSS BETWEEN AUSTRALIAN AND CANADIAN] Commander, we need to talk.
SC: Ah, Grand Entrance, welcome! Is there something on your mind?
GE: Yeah, me and the other Bruisers were talking about the last mission, yeah, and how they went all to heck before we could even get into a proper rumble. And we think we got it figured what buggered us from the start.
SC: I see. And to what do you attribute your most recent, less than phenomenal performance.
GE: Well, to put it all blunt like, it’s the completely mental gear you send us out with. Now don’t get me wrong, I do love my rocket launcher. Blasting a set of doors of its hinges with a big freaking gun certainly lets people know that we ain’t messing around, but you only give me one blasted rocket and you insist that I begin each mission by using the aforementioned rocket to blow open the front door.
SC: Yes, so as to ensure your Grand Entrance. Hence the name.
GE: Right, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but then I’m left with just a sledge hammer. Which, while I’ll admit is pretty intimidating when I step into the room, is complete crap in combat. For starters, it’s off balance. All the weight is in the front. Unless I choke up on the thing, all I can do is swing straight down, or at best, down and slightly to one side, kind of diagonally. And since it’s so heavy, I can’t swing it all that quick like, so my opponent has plenty of time to clear out, not that I ever have much opportunity to go toe to toe with a UPF soldier. They don’t come near me.
SC: Because they fear you.
GE: I wish. That’d make my blasted day. They don’t come near me because they’ve got guns. I mean, it just doesn’t make any sense to get into a melee situation when you can just shoot the guy. Hell, even that creepy UPF ninja, you know, the one that never says nothin, brings a pistol with him. I’ve never seen him draw his sword once. Part of me thinks it’s just for show, but that’s really neither here nor there. The problem is, after I’ve made my entrance, I’m flippin useless.
SC: Perhaps, but you have your team to support you.
GE: It’s not like they’re any better equipped, yeah. You send the grenade twins in with one grenade each, a flash-bang for Flash Bang, and a tear gas canister for Heartbreaker, which they can’t use because while you provided them with the proper protective equipment for their respective weapons, you didn’t give them to the rest of us. Most of the time, after I’ve blown the doors, we wind up walking single file behind Glorious Exit since he’s the only one with a gun, albeit a ludicrously oversized machine gun, but it’s better than what the rest of us have got. We managed all right for a while, but the UPF has got us figured. Once they know it’s us what’s causing trouble, they just send Baron Von Howitzer and his tank to wait for us outside. And some of the research facilities you sent us to raid had a second blast door right behind the first. I tried banging on it with my sledgehammer, but it hardly made a dent.
SC: I see, and what, exactly, would you like me to do about this?
GE: Well, seems to me that one of the simplest things would be to let me take a couple extra rockets with me, you know, to handle the extra doors and the Baron.
SC: Grand Entrance, do you have any idea how difficult it is to acquire those rockets? I cannot simply take a little jaunt down to the local superstore and purchase an economy sized case of rocket propelled grenades. To assemble the stockpile I have now, I had to pay bribes, travel to God forsaken hell holes to have overly drawn out meals with shockingly odiferous men who had atrocious table manners, all the while pretending that the hunk of charred rotting meat they placed before me was a delicacy on par with the finest of French cuisine. It is an experience that I wish to repeat as few times as possible.
GE: But-
SC: And if I were to allow you to take two rockets on your mission, what’s to stop the UPF from installing a third blast door behind the second? And a fourth? Each time they added a door, you would slink back here to ask for another rocket and where would it end? We could potentially find ourselves in a door-rocket arms race which would inevitably bankrupt my whole enterprise, granting the UPF victory without them firing a single shot. No, your armaments shall remain as they are. Now, if you do not mind, I have to prepare for tomorrow’s briefing.
[SOUND OF SEVERAL HEAVY STEPS FOLLOWED BY A VERY LOUD THUD]
GE [SHOUTING]: Now you listen here you sniveling cheapskate, if you want the continued services of the Thunder Bruisers, then I suggest you provide us with enough gear to do our jobs. That includes both more explosives for me and firearms for the whole crew. Otherwise, I might decide to quit and my letter of resignation will be the business end of my hammer planted squarely between your shifty little eyes. Understand?
SC: Well, when you argue it in that … particular fashion, then I do see your point. Yes, in fact, I believe that perhaps is in time, actually the time is long over due to reassess your weapons.
GE: Now see, I knew you were a reasonable sort.
SC: I try my best.
GE: Well, I think I’d best get back to my men and tell them you’ve come around.
SC: Yes, yes you should, good day.
[SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS]
GE: Sir?
SC: Oh God, anything you want, take it.
GE: How was that, sir?
SC: I’m sorry?
GE: The act, you know the kicking and the changing whims and all that, how was it?
SC: Oh. Yes. It was very good, very believable, but perhaps next time, a little less oomph on the doors. No sense cracking them in half every time.
GE: Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.
SC: You are welcome, Grand Entrance. Now if that is all, good day.
[END TRANSCRIPTION]
UPF INTERNAL ELECTRONIC COMMUNICATION
SENDING ANGENT: WIRETAP
RECEIVING AGENT: TEXAS TOASTER
SUBJECT: DUDE, YOU MADE THE BRIEFING
MESSAGE BODY
Toast-check out The Commander’s latest briefing. Looks like the General is picking up your tab tonight.
-Tap
Gentlemen, it has come to my attention that despite the clear and immutable guidelines I established previously, there continue to be disputes over the music selection throughout the complex. I would like to remind all of you that you are only permitted to listen to music at my discretion. While my first inclination was to ban the music outright, your colleague, War Cudgel, argued music would motivate you minions and increase our nefarious productivity levels. As a result, I relented and allowed one stereo to be installed in every department. At first, War Cudgel’s predictions appeared to be accurate. Productivity increased. In fact the rise was so great, that I awarded War Cudgel a bonus for his clever suggestion, but soon disagreements began to arise. In a few weeks, it seemed that reports of arguments, physical alterations, and even mild poisonings overran my desk. While I do encourage you to hone your combat and skullduggery skills, I would greatly prefer that said skills be turned towards the United Peace Force, and not each other. Seeking to maintain the increased productivity while maintaining some order, I, as you recall, established strict guidelines detailing what music can be played in what sector of the complex and in some specific cases, at what volume. This appeared to work briefly, but now it seems that discipline has broken down, leading to more altercations, so once again, I will remind you of the rules regarding music.
First, since this is where by far the most incidents of music fueled violence have occurred, the music played in the exercise facilities must be a collection of up-tempo music spanning a wide selection of genres played loud enough to drown out the grunts and yells of the Thunder Bruisers during their daily weight training regimen.
Classical music is to be played in both the science facility and in the strategic planning offices as it is reported to aid in higher-level thinking.
Heavy Metal and Rap are to be given equal time in the vehicle hanger. Advocates for both genres of music tell me that this is agreeable because they believe that their preferred selections are the only songs they can hear over their pneumatic tools and metal cutting implements, while the other selections are so far from music that they might as well be more shop noise. So far, this split has worked perfectly. We should all look to the minions of the vehicle hangar as examples of how to manage musical disagreements.
Accounting may only listen to adult contemporary and smooth jazz until they have successfully complete three consecutive error free budget reports, when they will be allowed to select their own music. With each error I find in their work, I will increase both the volume of music and percentage of Kenny G.
The HR department has developed a lottery system for deciding who will select the music for the day. If the winner has no opinion, then the lottery goes for another round. While I believe this system to be fair, I am concerned that the lottery proceedings have become too elaborate and have ordered the department to dispose of the stage, bonus wheel, and chicken and to return to the names in a box system they started with.
Christian Rock is to be played in the prison cells at all time as a reminder to the prisoners that they have indeed been forsaken.
Country Western is banned in all parts of the complex. This is a safety precaution. If the UPF were ever to breach our defenses, the last thing we would need is for that insane American UPF agent with the flamethrower, ludicrously oversized cowboy, and proclivity towards mindless heroics to be inspired by the songs of Toby Keith—as catchy as they might be—and decide that he will not be satisfied until he has reduced the entire complex to a pile of ash and molten steel.
Regardless of what music is playing at the time, whenever I enter a room, it must cease and be replaced by “The Supreme Commander’s March.” I went to a good deal of trouble to capture John Williams and even greater trouble to make him compose something that did not sound like the latest revision of the Star Wars soundtrack and by God, I am going to have it played.
Finally, know that this is your final warning. If further problems arise, then I will eliminate all music, save “The Supreme Commander’s March,” from the complex and will have War Cudgel killed. That is all, gentlemen, good day.
UPF INTELLIGENCE BRIEF
SUBJECT: Transcript of a speech delivered by The Supreme Commander during his weekly staff meeting, outlining his latest plan.
Gentlemen, once again, we have been thwarted in our attempts to conquer the world by the infernal meddling of the United Peace Force. Once again, we have been driven back into seclusion to regroup and rearm. This I’m afraid has become part of a predictable and all too humiliating pattern: I devise an ingenious plan, we begin preparations and when the time comes, we execute, only to have our machinations crushed shortly after being set in motion. On our more fortunate days, we come within minutes, sometimes seconds, of victory before a multi-national strike force intervenes. For too long we have fought on the losing side of this war, but now I say enough! No more shall we suffer the all encompassing shame of defeat, for I, your Supreme Commander, have crafted a plan so foolproof, so imaginatively clever, so staggeringly brilliant, that it is sure to succeed.
This plan, gentlemen, can be summed up in one word, squirrels. Yes, you have heard me correctly, my loyal minions, squirrels. I have recently engaged the services of one Dr. Alverez, a renowned and, fortunately, avaricious expert in the field of animal behavior. Dr. Alvarez assures me that give enough time and resources, he can deliver an army of whatever animal I choose. And I have chosen squirrels.
Now, I imagine some of you are wondering why I would choose such a lowly and non-threatening creature. Why not choose gorillas? Or tigers? Why not get clever and teach the gorillas to ride the tigers? Surely a cavalry made up of tiger mounted gorillas would be a truly formidable force, perhaps even invincible. I assure you that this has indeed crossed my mind, but the gorilla tiger army presents a few ultimately, unsolvable problems. First, and most important, a proper army would require many thousands of soldiers, though with animals of abundant ferocity, this number could be reduced to mere hundreds. Even so, I fear that finding gorillas in sufficient quantity would prove difficult, as well as exceedingly costly. Even if I were, by some fortuitous circumstance, able to acquire the animals in sufficient quantities, I would then be left with the quandary of where to house the beasts. And I would require that the animals be properly cared for, as I would need them to be in top physical condition and find animal cruelty so distasteful. The second major problem is stealth, or rather, lack there of. I’m sure that I don’t have to tell you that it would be rather difficult for a gorilla riding a tiger to move about a major metropolitan area inconspicuously. Within minutes of deploying such a force, both the media and the authorities would be alerted. While I’m confident that the tigers and gorillas could dispatch any interference with ease, I fear that the delay would allow our target time to prepare for out arrival or retreat, thereby wasting thousands of hours of preparation. No, I fear that an army of gorillas and tigers is simply unfeasible.
Now squirrels, however, do not present so many difficulties. First, they are abundant and can be acquired cheaply. If we spread out our collection efforts around the country, we could easily build an army of formidable size and strength without arousing the suspicions of the UPF. Given squirrels’ reputation of being a nuisance among those who have taken up bird watching or gardening, we might even turn a small profit by collecting them under the guise of a pest control company. Also, due to their compact size, it would be possible to house the entire army in one or two warehouses. Dr. Alverez has also informed me that the cost of care and feeding of squirrels is nominal.
The true advantage of squirrels though, is in their stealth. You see, since squirrels are ubiquitous on this continent, most people, even the ever-vigilant security personnel who have proven to be troublesome in the past, hardly notice them. Our army could travel silently through the city, infiltrating even the most tightly secured bases. Imagine the possibilities for our standard abduction missions. Normally, we would spend months observing our target, arranging for one of our men to join the security detail, and preparing an assault, only to be thwarted at the last minute. With squirrels, the prep time is greatly reduced, as is the risk to our people. I estimate that a pack of twelve highly trained squirrels could easily dispatch a security detail, as they are very quick and have extremely sharp teeth. Once the security detail has been dispatched, the squirrels could then drive the target towards a designated spot where our retrieval crews will be waiting in disguise. I predict that our preparation times will be reduced by seventy-five percent and that our rate of success will greatly increase.
Gentlemen, our day of victory draws near. Soon your hard work, and sacrifice shall be rewarded and you shall reap the spoils of our global domination. Until that day, keep up with your duties and watch for squirrels. We will soon be launching a bonus program for the delivery of live squirrels. H.R. is still finalizing the details. They have been overwhelmed ever since the last UPF raid destroyed our servers. Until next time gentlemen, that is all, good day.
ESTIMATED THREAT LEVEL: 0-1
SUGGESTED ACTION: Continue to monitor development of the program in case it produces technology worth acquiring, or we need to thwart a plan to secure our budget.