Calliope Eloise in Codename: Pussycat

A groovy sixties spy story. A comedy. A spoof. A fun time.

Calliope Eloise in CODENAME:  PUSSYCAT

 

“Have a seat Ms. Eloise,” the chief of the CIA Department of Fighting Communism said.  “We have a new assignment for you.”  Calliope Eloise, in a stunning black leather catsuit and knee boots, slinked into a chair, lit a cigarette, and listened attentively.  “We have reason to believe that your fellow agent Vlodniko Nikshsdfjkavich may be a double agent for the Russians.  It is unconfirmed as of yet, but we believe that he has been contacting the—for lack of a better term—contact at the local discotheque through coded messages in vinyl records.”

 

Agent Eloise looked at the calendar on the wall.  April 1966 it said.  It had been a groovy year.  It was the 60’s.  The height of the Cold War.  There were two things that were constant in this era:

 

1. everyone smoked

2. color coordination in fashion did not yet exist.

 

 

Agent Eloise was not familiar with Agent Nikshsdfjkavich.  They had met once at the CIA Christmas party, which was incredibly boring.  It mostly involved agents drinking champagne and making innuendo laden comments to their secretaries.  In other words, it was like a regular workday, except with presents. 

 

“We need you to trail Agent Nikshsdfjkavich.  Find out what he is up to.  If he is giving intel to the Russians, we need the proof.  Get us that vinyl record.”

 

Armed with guns, surveillance equipment, and the best book on the appropriate use of puns available, she was ready to go.  It was known that Agent Nikshsdfjkavich was a regular at The Pussycat Lounge, not just any discotheque, the discotheque.  It was the hip place, the place to be, the living end. 

 

For this assignment, Calliope Eloise was going to need new clothes.

 

A quick trip to the clothiers (with a lovely montage of a happy girl trying on clothes and dancing in front of the mirror) later, Agent Eloise was ready for duty.  It was a tough assignment, surveillance of a fellow agent suspected of treason.  Staying in the shadows, avoid being noticed.  It was a challenge.  But she was ready to go. 

 

For the good of her country, she was going to go out dancing.

 

But first, she had to meet her contact. 

 

She put on her best hat and trenchcoat to meet with the snitch, who would only go by Mr. X.  It was he that went to the CIA with the information.  They agreed to meet at a park bench at midnight.  She saw her contact and sat down.  Reminding herself not to make eye contact, she stared straight forward and began to speak. 

 

“The flamingo is happy.”

 

The contact, also in his best hat and trenchcoat, answered with “one could say it’s tickled pink.”

 

Both occupants of the bench shuddered at the terrible exchange of code phrases and sat in silence for a moment divorcing themselves from any responsibility for the terrible pun.

 

“What can you tell me?”

 

“No one knows him as Nikshsdfjkavich.  He is called [dramatic pause] Mr. Smith.  He is a regular at the Pussycat Lounge.  Never dances.  Drinks a lot.”

 

“Do you have it?”

 

He placed an item on the bench.  “Yes.  Had to pull some strings to get it, but it should do fine.  They might not notice it is missing.”  Mr. X immediately got up and walked off.

 

Calliope Eloise picked up the item and looked at it.  A Pussycat Lounge nametag.  Her name was Midge. 

 

The discotheque was quite groovy.  Go-go dancers, people doing all the latest dances: the froog, the jerk, the freddy.

 

But she was not here to dance.  She had a job to do.  Plus she had several tables that were expecting their drink orders.

 

She’d been watching the place all night.  So far  Mr. Smith AKA Agent Nikshsdfjkavich had not shown.  But he would.

 

Then, just as a drunken customer demanded she “sock it to him”, she saw the man from across the room.  (She also socked it to the customer).

 

She tried to get closer to see the exchange.  Agent Nikshsdfjkavich sat down and ordered a drink.  He didn’t make a move.  Finally, she saw him go up to the DJ booth...with a stack of records.  As a discussion seemingly ensued, the DJ sorted through the records as if looking for things that he would like to buy.  He shook his head at all but Tom Jones’ “What’s New Pussycat?”.  This one he took. 

 

This must be the record.

 

Agent Nikshsdfjkavich went back to his table.  Calliope Eloise went up to the DJ to hand him song requests.  While he was looking for his copy of “The Batusi” Agent Eloise managed to switch the Tom Jones album, substituting instead the vinyl record from the soundtrack to “Thunderball.” 

 

Just as Agent Nikshsdfjkavich left the discotheque, she saw someone approach the DJ with a briefcase.  It was well done, but she did see the exchange. 

 

Even though it was a decoy now, she had to follow that briefcase.  She closely followed, through dark areas, wet roads, and empty streets.  Weird since this was a busy district what with a loud discotheque and all. 

 

But this was commonplace in espionage...as was being spotted and captured, which is what happened next.

 

Apparently Agent Nikshsdfjkavich recognized her.  Stupid Christmas party.  Oh well, she thought, now I guess I’ll be taken to the evil lair of some supergenius hell bent on taking over the world with some giant weapon that could destroy us all. 

 

Instead she was taken to a nice, comfy room guarded by an agitated chihuahua.  The dog barked any time she made a move.  CIA training never covered agitated chihuahuas.  She also found an envelope marked DO NOT READ.  Inside she found a paper labeled “My Master Plan.”  It followed with:

 

1. Acquire funding by selling secrets to the Russians

2. Set up secret lair (preferably in a hollowed out volcano)

3. Recruit and train henchmen

4. Buy matching jumpsuits for henchmen

5. Hold the world hostage by threatening to use superweapon

6. Find supergenius to build superweapon

7. Kill supergenius and take credit

8. World domination

9. Move to a nice house in the country and live the quiet life

 

Calliope Eloise was confused.  She looked out the window.  She saw the carefully planned roads and houses only found in the suburbs.  The suburban location was confirmed when she saw two things:

 

1.  A jogger ran by and waved at her

2.  The guy across the street was watering his lawn

 

This was obviously not a hollowed out volcano.  Must not have acquired enough funding from the Russians. 

 

She waved back at the jogger.

 

Finally Agent Nikshsdfjkavich walked in the room, gun in hand.

 

“I guess you’re wondering why I brought you here.”

 

“Not really.  I found your master plan right here.”

 

“D****t!”  He snatched it out of her hand.  “Stupid dog.  Always dragging stuff in here.  You didn’t find any blueprints or secret documents did you?”

 

“Nope.  So let me get this straight.  You’re holding me hostage in a nice house in the suburbs?  Not exactly an evil lair is it?  I think you captured me too soon then.”

 

Agent Nikshsdfjkavich realized that she was right.  He was not yet playing in the villain big leagues.  He thought for a second then said “although we should still probably fight.”

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

“Where?”

 

“Um...I saw a great place on the way over.”

 

“You were supposed to be blindfolded.”

 

“You have one henchman and a chihuahua.  I wouldn’t expect great things yet.”

 

The chihuahua yipped in the background.

 

“Oh, and by the way.  The records were switched.  You just sold the Russians a copy of the ‘Thunderball’ soundtrack.”

 

“Ha ha.  Already been paid.”  Then he shot at her.  Calliope Eloise was quick and managed to move so that the bullet broke her handcuffs.  The chihuahua ran at her.  She avoided it and there was a scuffle with Agent Nikshsdfjkavich.  Unfortunately, the chihuahua came back at her.  It was at this point that she noticed the disappearance of Agent Nikshsdfjkavich. 

 

Two weeks later, on a deserted island, the word SOLD was added to a sign that read:  For Sale, Island Realty.  Moo-Bat Que, Realtor®.  The sign was sitting in front of a hollowed out volcano.  A chihuahua yipped in the background.

 

© 2007 Tina Leach

 

 

 

Reviews

[Kincaid Kjeedo]

Very Clever.... Ms. Leach.
(Clap, Clap, Clap)

I suppose you've figured out the criminals master plan, hmm? Your writing, first off, is ingenious. You are using writing techniques that is clearly not the work of some up and coming author. Well done. Your villian, who has perhaps the most complicated last name since Mr. MXYZPTLK, makes me laugh when he goes under such a generic spy name like "Mr. Smith". Your story and it's setting makes me think of either Austin Powers or the computer game "No One Lives Forever", which both have a 50's, 60's feel to them.

I'd like to see the story expand a bit. You seem like the person whose seen enough spy films that you would be willing to have your characters pointing out the flaws in the villians plans, which Austin Powers has done, but what you can do pretty easy considering this story is a spoof (or at least thinks it is.)

Continue writing, it's very good.