The Final Briefing
Setting: A dimly lit hospital room. Beeping machines. A dusty American flag on the wall. CIA Agent Harold Blake, 78, lies in bed, clearly on his last legs. His son, Kevin, 35, awkwardly sits by the bedside with a cup of cold hospital coffee.
HAROLD (rasping): Kevin… come closer. I don’t have much time.
KEVIN: Dad, I’m here. Don’t talk if it hurts.
HAROLD: Nonsense. I’ve been shot in five languages. This is nothing.
KEVIN: What?
HAROLD: Shhh. Listen. There’s something I’ve never told you. I was never a traveling fertilizer salesman.
KEVIN: …No kidding.
HAROLD: I was a top-level CIA operative codenamed “Mr. Pancake.”
KEVIN: Mr. Pancake? Seriously?
HAROLD: It was the Cold War. We were all named after breakfast items. My partner was Agent Bacon, may he rest in cholesterol. Listen—there's more.
KEVIN: Okay... this is weird. But kind of on-brand for you, honestly.
HAROLD: Remember your fifth birthday party? The clown?
KEVIN: Yeah, the one that got arrested?
HAROLD: That wasn’t a clown. That was Yuri the Knife, a Belarusian assassin. I took him down with a balloon animal and a juice box.
KEVIN: Wait, what?
HAROLD: Also—I bugged your high school. You dated some suspicious characters.
KEVIN: You bugged my high school?!
HAROLD: You think that “Maria from Yearbook” was really just into anime and scented candles? She was KGB. I had to switch out your prom punch with truth serum.
KEVIN: That explains why everyone cried and confessed their secrets all night.
HAROLD: You're welcome.
KEVIN: Okay, okay, what else?
HAROLD: The moon landing… real. Bigfoot… definitely real. But he prefers the term “Forest Gentleman.”
KEVIN: This is insane.
HAROLD: I once seduced the Queen of Luxembourg for intel.
KEVIN: I’m pretty sure Luxembourg doesn’t have a queen.
HAROLD: Not anymore. You're welcome again.
KEVIN: Wow. Just... wow. So, did you ever think to tell me all this before your deathbed?
HAROLD: Of course not. That would’ve been irresponsible. I swore an oath.
KEVIN: You also swore you weren’t the one who ran over my bike in ‘98.
HAROLD: I was on a covert mission. Your Huffy was collateral damage.
KEVIN: I’m calling my therapist.
HAROLD: Tell her she’s been on our watchlist for years. Also… check the garden shed.
KEVIN: For what?
HAROLD (dying gasp): The… codes… to the squirrel drone army.
KEVIN: What?!
HAROLD: They control the HOA.
Harold flatlines. Long silence. Kevin slowly sips his cold coffee.
KEVIN: Well. Guess I’m canceling therapy and calling the Pentagon.
[End Scene]