Agent Audrey Hanson, Challenge #5

Make friends, huh? Well, I have to admit that Sylar and I have something in common there. He doesn’t have any friends because he kills them and eats their brains and I don’t have many friends because of the time I dedicate to my job. I just don’t have time to dress like some crazy, PCP-riddled ballerina and sit around the table at a café with three friends who each represent a different female stereotype talking about sex like a bunch of gay guys.

So I turn to my FBI Handbook on Winning Friends and Influencing People. Right here, chapter one, find something in common. Well, that’s easy, Sylar’s a sicko psycho serial killer and I’m on the Sicko Psycho Serial Killer Task Force. Hey, I’ve got access to all the sicko psycho serial killers that we have locked away! I’ll just have one released into my authority and then introduce him to Sylar.

I went to the secret detention center where we keep these creeps – oops did I say secret detention center? The US government doesn’t have a secret detention center. Forget I said that. I went to the maximum security psychiatric facility and explained to the warden that I needed to release one of the crazy psychos into my care.

“No way,” the warden shook his head. “I can’t in good conscience just hand you one of these guys. They’re all homicidally dangerous and would just as soon kill you as look at you.”

“I realize that,” I replied. “I need one of these in order to catch another psycho killer. I can take care of myself.”

“Your funeral.” The warden handed me a stack of dossiers. “Here, take your pick. Take them all if you want.”

I looked over the files and selected Weird Harold. He didn’t look too dangerous, so I figure he’ll work out.

“Weird Harold, I’m Agent Audrey Hanson, FBI. I’m here to use you… er, you’ve been selected to participate in an experimental release program. We want to introduce you to society slowly and I will accompany you.”

“Well, that sounds pleasant,” Harold replied pleasantly. “I am grateful for this opportunity and will endeavor to be on my best behavior.”

“Great.” I had the inmate released into my custody and just as we were about to get into my car so I can drive him to Sylar’s mansion, he jumped on top of me and started humping my leg.

“Mommy! Mommy! Baby loves mommy!” he screamed. “Don’t you look at me! Don’t you freakin’ look at me! I’ve got a love letter for you straight from the heart! You know what the love letter is? It’s a bullet from a freaking gun, freaker! Ha ha ha ha ha!”

I flipped him off me and just as he was about to pounce on me again, I shot him in the head.

“Let me see those dossiers again,” I said to the warden as I stormed back into his office.

“What happened? Where’s Weird Harold?”

“I had to shoot him,” I replied coolly.

“Damn, he had only one day left until he was fully rehabilitated,” the warden shook his head. “I suppose you want another.”

“Yeah, I’m taking him.” I jabbed my finger at one folder. “Hector the Collector.”

“Hector the Collector?” the warden repeated in shock. “I can’t let him go. He’s the most dangerous guy here.”

“I don’t care,” I answered. “I know him, I’ve worked with him before, I can handle it.”

“OK,” the warden shrugged.

I returned five minutes later. “I need someone else.”

“Don’t tell me you shot him, too,” the warden replied.

“He tried to eat my face,” I answered. “I need another. How about him?”

“Jason? No way. He’s one of those unstoppable killers and just when you think you killed him, he’ll pop right back up or crawl out of the lake or fire or wherever you think you got him and he’ll get you.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. “Then what do you got?”

“How about Woody?” he pushed a folder towards me.

I took a look. “Are you serious?”

The warden nodded.

“OK, let’s just bring him in here, then,” I replied. “No use in taking him out of the facility if it’s not going to work.”

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

“Guess who?” Woody burst through the wooden door and flew into the office, laughing maniacally all the while.

“Ugh,” I groaned. “You’re cartoon.”

“And you’re a two dimensional character,” he replied. “But you don’t see me complaining!”

He then laughed again and began pecking on the warden’s office furniture.

“Woody, Woody, settle down,” the facility’s administrator tried to calm the crazy bird.

“How much wood would a woodpecker peck if a woodpecker could peck wood?” the bird laughed again and then pecked the warden on the head.

“So Woody, what are you in for?” Maybe if I can get him talking, he’ll calm down.

“Well, bub,” he acted like he was hitching up his pants. “Wally Walrus was having a barbeque and I was bugging him you know the standard stuff: pecking his head, pecking the lawn furniture, pecking his food. Then he came after me with a shotgun, so I pecked his head some more. Now Wally ain’t moving too well, if you know what I mean. Ha ha ha ha ha!”

Woody started flying around the room some more, pecking every piece of wood in sight, until I pulled out my piece and shot him down.

“What you do that for?” the warden yelled.

“General principle!” I yelled back. “Who else you got?”

“This is it,” he shoved a dossier at me. “This is the last one. This better work, I can’t have you shooting all of the inmates.”

“Murdock? Is he crazy enough?”

“Well, he’s not really a killer,” he answered. “But he keeps busting out of the lower security installations to fight crooked trucking company owners, greedy land developers, and South American drug cartels. He’s certifiable, though, I’ll guarantee you that.”

“Fine. He’ll do.”

I took Murdock back to the mansion and introduced him to Sylar. They shook hands and stared at each other. Then they kind of looked at each other cockeyed. Then they kind of looked at each other crookedly. There was a moment of silence.

“I’m coo coo for Cocoa Puffs!” Murdock suddenly screamed. “Why Mr. Sylar you look good enough to eat. In fact, I’d love to eat you with some Brett Favre-beans and a nice Chianti. Merry Christmas to you Mr. Potter!”

Sylar’s eyebrow arched slightly, but he didn’t say anything back.

“Beep beep!” Murdock beeped his nose, then started running all around the room. Then he started spinning all around the room. “Auntie Em! Auntie Em! It’s a twister! It’s a twister! Where’s Toto? Where’s Toto? I miss the rains down in Africa! I pity da fool! Go go Gadget raincoat!”