Inspire this

[Aardvark]

"Ok, target locked. Initiating beam in 5...4...3... no wait, he's moving. Sorry guys"

 

A collective cry went up among the crew of the black, nondescript van. Another setback on an already shattered schedule. Three in the morning when their next appointment was for 7 out in the country. The idea of another day without sleep haunted the four men as they recalibrated their equipment and retargeted the subject.

 

The subject himself was, like many young students, nocturnal. Stayed awake to ungodly hours, exposing his mind to the rot that was The Internet. The scourge of intelligence everywhere, one of the greatest threats to the progress of mankind since the advent of television. If previous patterns were anything to go by, he would be doing this for another hour, so there would be plenty of other targeting opportunities.

 

Sometimes one of the crew, conveniently garbed to match the black, nondescript van they operated, would toss about the idea of staging a home invasion to get their job done faster. They all agreed the plan did indeed have merits, but they all knew that if they started taking shortcuts, then their little operation would be revealed to the world. and their lives would be forfeit.

 

"Righto, he's taken his drink, he's back on the forum, beam prepped in 10 seconds..."

 

Little wasn't the right word for it. True, their particular operation only covered a small area, consisting of a small area around a university that consisted of high density student accommodation. The brightest minds, the future leaders of mankind, crammed into filing cabinet-style apartment blocks, conveniently close to the university grounds. With ample undercover parking, because no student should have to walk any distance greater than the distance between couch/comfy chair and kitchen/toilet. So geographically speaking, their operation was fairly small. Some other operations, on the other hand, had to cover vast rural areas. The one man operations. Where secrecy was easier to maintain and targeting was almost effortless. They didn't even have vans out there, merely weathered cars that could cover the distances without alerting the locals to the presence of strangers. Ofcourse, these teams and individuals were part of something larger.

 

"No, wait, he recoiled in horror. I think he was goatse'd... again"

 

A Global Concern, it was referred to as by the people in the know. Which was a lot of people. At last count, almost two and a half million people worked for the Global Concern. Most doing the grunt work. Beam operation. Some in higher administration. Above that, the structure was unknown. Even to those who make up that structure. A complex organisation that would never have been brought into existence, had television failed to catch on among consumers. One that would've been much smaller, had the Internet remained true to its military origins.

 

"Ok, here we go, targeting in 5..."

 

It has been said by many a parent that television rots your brains. Usually while said parents were watching the television. Which could explain why they use the excuse as a warning to their children, without realising the truth in their words. The Rot was picked up early in the life of television. Memories started to fade, the mind dulled, creativity began to dim. It was slow and gradual. But it was a concern. A Global Concern. And thusly, the Global Concern was formed to fight this mindrot. Television was already too pervasive to simply wipe out, so this option was discarded before being suggested. In the end, it was discovered that there was a simple way the Rot could be reversed. And it had major benefits for dental health, to boot. A method that could be easily administered to people in urban areas and could be unwittingly administered by the various dental associations of the world to the rest of the people.

 

"4..."

 

But the Internet was a whole different story. It was TV Rot, magnified and condensed into a form of utter stupidity that could take down even the greatest minds in a matter of days. It wasn't so much a problem in the early days, but when commercialisation of the Internet took root, Internet Rot became a serious dilemma. Thusly, the Beam was invented.

 

"3..."

 

A finely tuned beam of radiation that struck dormant centres of the human brain, causing them to spring into life and perform what was discovered to be their only purpose of regenerating the parts of the brain damaged by the Rot. With the Television Solution, they revived to a point, enough to stave off the worst effects of TV Rot. Internet Rot required a much greater energy to defeat. And more frequently, too. It was then decided that for the benefit of mankind, the Global Concern would beam every single individual human, once a month. Unless they disqualified themselves by displaying irrational stupidity without evidence of internet exposure. Which did cut down the workload significantly. But there were some left, a significant number, who would prove invaluable to humanity in the future, who were targeted by the Global Concern for a program of beaming.

 

"2..."

 

Which is why the Operations were set up. Teams of up to four, one black, nondescript van, hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of equipment and The Beam. They're given a list of names and addresses, complete with descriptions and photographs. They're given a schedule of time windows. It became their job to fight Internet Rot, one mind at a time. Everywhere on earth.

 

"1...."

 

But they couldn't let anybody know about it. No one knew why and everyone knew better than to ask. The money was good, the hours sucked, but they did allow for some flexibility, so it wasn't all bad. No one knew where the money cam from, either. Everyone knew their Operation mates and their direct superiors. Sometimes they knew the Operations that bordered on their areas. A useful thing in the event of a large event that requires immediate blogging/foruming. Those superiors knew someone above them who informed them of any strategic changes. Beyond that, they knew no one except the Operations below them. Of the people above the administrators? No one knows.

 

"Fir.... CRAP! This worthless little internet DWEEB ACTUALLY ROLLED AROUND ON THE FLOOR, LAUGHING HIS ARSE OFF. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE? Seriously, not even BRAINROT makes people THAT GODDAMN STUPID"

 

"That settles it, we brand him irrevocably stupid and cross him off the list. All in favour?"

 

A chorus of "Aye!" filled the van before the four men discharged the equipment and headed off to their next target.

 

Sure, it was a strange job with bad hours. Sure, it did have it's drawbacks, like the need for total secrecy to the point of individual coverstories, provided by the Administrators. Sure, sometimes the Operators themselves felt like they were getting lethal doses of brain rot from the very people they were protecting. But the pay was good and the job was steady, which was enough for anybody in these ever-trying times.

[The Portrait of Zool]

Woo-hoo! :woot: A new Aardvark story!

 

Hilarious, as usual - except for that poor fool who got crossed off the list.

 

*Checks self to make sure he doesn't live at a university...*

Edited July 6, 2005 by The Portrait of Zool