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flipflop_divaA "tiger team" is a temporary, expert group assembled to quickly solve a specific, complex problem or achieve a particular goal.
--
A rap on his door had Vance cursing under his breath. What did a guy have to do around here to get a few minutes break? Retirement could not come soon enough. He thought about aiming the colorful rock lying in the middle of his desk at the person who was about to walk through his door, but instead, he shifted his face into the happiest expression he could manage and called out, “Come in!”
It was more a croak than a shout of glee, but oh well. He tried.
The door flew open to reveal his overzealous assistant, Paddemeyer. She always looked like she was caught in a wind storm, hair flying everywhere, buttons on her uniform popping off, panting like she’d run all the way over here. Oh, who was he kidding? She probably had.
“Inspector!” she said now, practically hopping up and down like she couldn’t wait for what she was about to say. “We have a problem!”
Of course we did.
“We always have a problem,” he grumbled, then remembered he was supposed to be looking enthused for his job. “What is it this time, Paddemeyer? Did another craft leave tracks they forgot to cover up? Oh, dear me. Did we land on another endangered species? I keep telling everyone to check their locations accurately!”
“Oh, no, Inspector. None of that!” Paddemeyer was almost screaming with excitement. “It’s much worse!”
“… Worse you say?”
“Oh yes!” Paddemeyer bobbed her head so fast that Vance thought it might detach from her body. “Remember how Craft Delta Epsilon Beta was supposed to pick up Old Man Who Lives Alone in the Forest?”
“Yes?” Vance said warily. He had signed off on the paperwork this morning. No known friends or family. No visitors in the last six months. No one to miss him when he was gone a few days to undergo their Human Research Protocols.
“Well, we are all wrong!” Paddemeyer shouted. “Turns out Craft Delta Epsilon Beta landed in the middle of a five-year-old’s princess birthday party!”
Vance felt faint. “What?”
“Oh, yes!” Paddemeyer said brightly. “It turns out Old Man Who Lives Alone in the Forest has a granddaughter who loves having parties at his special treehouse. That’s what she calls it.”
Vance rubbed his temples. His biology didn’t allow him to have headaches, but he swore he felt one coming on. Living on Earth for this dastardly assignment was ruining him.
“Please tell me they retreated quickly, and we can just send a team in for Memory Alteration Protocol.”
“I can tell you that if you want!” Paddemeyer beamed. “But that’s not all!”
“Oh, Master Supreme, help me,” Vance prayed.
“They grabbed five of the princesses and brought them to headquarters.”
“They WHAT?!?!?!?” Vance’s head was about to explode. At least then he wouldn’t have to deal with this. “Why, why, why would they do that?”
Paddemeyer shrugged. “They panicked,” she said.
“Oh, my humans,” Vance cursed. He wanted to scream. Cry. Break something. Again, all these stupid human emotions that kept rubbing off on him. But no, he was a professional. It was his stupid job to solve problems. He took a deep breath.
“Take me to the princesses,” he commanded.
--
It was worse than he could ever have imagined. Five little girls in fluffy pink and purple and yellow dresses, with tiaras on their heads and plastic high heels on their feet, were racing around the Human Research Department. They stopped when they saw him and Paddemeyer.
“Are you in charge here?” demanded a tiny blonde girl. She was all curls and was wearing a pink dress that looked like it wanted to swallow her up with a sash across it that read “Birthday Girl.” “I was promised an alien and cake!”
“Uhhh,” Vance said.
“And I want games and goodie bags!” declared a little brunette girl, who stomped her foot so hard her little shoe fell off.
Vance looked behind him at Paddemeyer. What the human was a goodie bag?
“Where is my mom?” piped up another little girl dressed in yellow. She stared at him accusingly and then burst into sobs.
Great. Just great.
The tiny blonde girl was now standing barely an inch away from him. She looked disgruntled, the same way Vance did when his cleanup crew didn’t listen to him. “There is no way you are in charge,” she said.
“I am totally in charge!” he countered.
She put her tiny hands on her tiny hips. “Then where is my cake? I thought this was supposed to be a special ride.”
“Who said that?” Vance asked.
The girl glared at him. “The guy with the blue skin. Aren’t you supposed to know that?”
Ughhh. When this was over, Vance was going to kill everyone on Craft Delta Epsilon Beta. That or return them to Planet Home so they were never allowed out on missions again.
All the girls were giving him dirty looks now. The yellow dress girl was still sobbing. A redhead in purple put an arm around her and glared extra hard at Vance. It was a really good thing humans did not have laser beams attached to their eyeballs like some species.
Vance turned to Paddemeyer. He could only see one option out of this mess, and he had to hope to the Master Supreme that it worked.
“Take notes,” he told her.
Instantly she had a clipboard in her hands.
“I want Memory Alteration Protocol done on all adults at that party. Actually, change that. On anyone over the age of eight. For the children, put them to sleep along with the adults but no Memory Alteration Protocol. Got it?”
“Got it,” Paddemeyer said. “But Sir. They’re going to remember …”
“I’m not done yet,” Vance interrupted. “Once the humans are sleeping and the Memory Alteration Protocol is activated, I want every decoration at that party changed to little green aliens.”
“Sir …”
“Do it,” Vance ordered. “Then wake the humans and return these five. I want everyone at that party thinking this was always part of the plan. Created by the coolest grandfather around.”
Paddemeyer’s eyes lit up. “Oh! That is a very good plan, Inspector.”
“I know it is,” Vance said. “Oh, and Paddemeyer?”
“Yes, Inspector?”
“Get these girls some cake and an alien.”
“An alien?”
“Get Bruce from Space Resources. He’s green and has tentacles. They’ll love him.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Paddemeyer agreed. Then she saluted. “I’ll keep you updated,” she said, before flying out the door.
Vance turned back to the five princesses. “Want to meet an alien?”
--
Vance sank into his chair. Paddemeyer’s report lay on his desk. The Superiors were pleased. And from what Paddemeyer said, the little town where the princesses lived was abuzz about the best birthday party ever. No one suspected a thing.
Vance had done it again. Saved the day like the hero he was.
He was just about to put his feet up on his desk when his door burst open. His other assistant. Gino, stood there, a grin on his face.
“Inspector!” he rasped. “We have a problem!”
Vance’s feet crashed to the ground. Of course we did.
He sighed.
“Tell me what happened.”
Fiction.
This was written for the new season of![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
therealljidol, Wheel of Chaos! If you liked my entry, please consider voting for me or any of the other amazing contestants. You can find all the entries here. Looking for the voting post on Tuesday night!
--
A rap on his door had Vance cursing under his breath. What did a guy have to do around here to get a few minutes break? Retirement could not come soon enough. He thought about aiming the colorful rock lying in the middle of his desk at the person who was about to walk through his door, but instead, he shifted his face into the happiest expression he could manage and called out, “Come in!”
It was more a croak than a shout of glee, but oh well. He tried.
The door flew open to reveal his overzealous assistant, Paddemeyer. She always looked like she was caught in a wind storm, hair flying everywhere, buttons on her uniform popping off, panting like she’d run all the way over here. Oh, who was he kidding? She probably had.
“Inspector!” she said now, practically hopping up and down like she couldn’t wait for what she was about to say. “We have a problem!”
Of course we did.
“We always have a problem,” he grumbled, then remembered he was supposed to be looking enthused for his job. “What is it this time, Paddemeyer? Did another craft leave tracks they forgot to cover up? Oh, dear me. Did we land on another endangered species? I keep telling everyone to check their locations accurately!”
“Oh, no, Inspector. None of that!” Paddemeyer was almost screaming with excitement. “It’s much worse!”
“… Worse you say?”
“Oh yes!” Paddemeyer bobbed her head so fast that Vance thought it might detach from her body. “Remember how Craft Delta Epsilon Beta was supposed to pick up Old Man Who Lives Alone in the Forest?”
“Yes?” Vance said warily. He had signed off on the paperwork this morning. No known friends or family. No visitors in the last six months. No one to miss him when he was gone a few days to undergo their Human Research Protocols.
“Well, we are all wrong!” Paddemeyer shouted. “Turns out Craft Delta Epsilon Beta landed in the middle of a five-year-old’s princess birthday party!”
Vance felt faint. “What?”
“Oh, yes!” Paddemeyer said brightly. “It turns out Old Man Who Lives Alone in the Forest has a granddaughter who loves having parties at his special treehouse. That’s what she calls it.”
Vance rubbed his temples. His biology didn’t allow him to have headaches, but he swore he felt one coming on. Living on Earth for this dastardly assignment was ruining him.
“Please tell me they retreated quickly, and we can just send a team in for Memory Alteration Protocol.”
“I can tell you that if you want!” Paddemeyer beamed. “But that’s not all!”
“Oh, Master Supreme, help me,” Vance prayed.
“They grabbed five of the princesses and brought them to headquarters.”
“They WHAT?!?!?!?” Vance’s head was about to explode. At least then he wouldn’t have to deal with this. “Why, why, why would they do that?”
Paddemeyer shrugged. “They panicked,” she said.
“Oh, my humans,” Vance cursed. He wanted to scream. Cry. Break something. Again, all these stupid human emotions that kept rubbing off on him. But no, he was a professional. It was his stupid job to solve problems. He took a deep breath.
“Take me to the princesses,” he commanded.
--
It was worse than he could ever have imagined. Five little girls in fluffy pink and purple and yellow dresses, with tiaras on their heads and plastic high heels on their feet, were racing around the Human Research Department. They stopped when they saw him and Paddemeyer.
“Are you in charge here?” demanded a tiny blonde girl. She was all curls and was wearing a pink dress that looked like it wanted to swallow her up with a sash across it that read “Birthday Girl.” “I was promised an alien and cake!”
“Uhhh,” Vance said.
“And I want games and goodie bags!” declared a little brunette girl, who stomped her foot so hard her little shoe fell off.
Vance looked behind him at Paddemeyer. What the human was a goodie bag?
“Where is my mom?” piped up another little girl dressed in yellow. She stared at him accusingly and then burst into sobs.
Great. Just great.
The tiny blonde girl was now standing barely an inch away from him. She looked disgruntled, the same way Vance did when his cleanup crew didn’t listen to him. “There is no way you are in charge,” she said.
“I am totally in charge!” he countered.
She put her tiny hands on her tiny hips. “Then where is my cake? I thought this was supposed to be a special ride.”
“Who said that?” Vance asked.
The girl glared at him. “The guy with the blue skin. Aren’t you supposed to know that?”
Ughhh. When this was over, Vance was going to kill everyone on Craft Delta Epsilon Beta. That or return them to Planet Home so they were never allowed out on missions again.
All the girls were giving him dirty looks now. The yellow dress girl was still sobbing. A redhead in purple put an arm around her and glared extra hard at Vance. It was a really good thing humans did not have laser beams attached to their eyeballs like some species.
Vance turned to Paddemeyer. He could only see one option out of this mess, and he had to hope to the Master Supreme that it worked.
“Take notes,” he told her.
Instantly she had a clipboard in her hands.
“I want Memory Alteration Protocol done on all adults at that party. Actually, change that. On anyone over the age of eight. For the children, put them to sleep along with the adults but no Memory Alteration Protocol. Got it?”
“Got it,” Paddemeyer said. “But Sir. They’re going to remember …”
“I’m not done yet,” Vance interrupted. “Once the humans are sleeping and the Memory Alteration Protocol is activated, I want every decoration at that party changed to little green aliens.”
“Sir …”
“Do it,” Vance ordered. “Then wake the humans and return these five. I want everyone at that party thinking this was always part of the plan. Created by the coolest grandfather around.”
Paddemeyer’s eyes lit up. “Oh! That is a very good plan, Inspector.”
“I know it is,” Vance said. “Oh, and Paddemeyer?”
“Yes, Inspector?”
“Get these girls some cake and an alien.”
“An alien?”
“Get Bruce from Space Resources. He’s green and has tentacles. They’ll love him.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Paddemeyer agreed. Then she saluted. “I’ll keep you updated,” she said, before flying out the door.
Vance turned back to the five princesses. “Want to meet an alien?”
--
Vance sank into his chair. Paddemeyer’s report lay on his desk. The Superiors were pleased. And from what Paddemeyer said, the little town where the princesses lived was abuzz about the best birthday party ever. No one suspected a thing.
Vance had done it again. Saved the day like the hero he was.
He was just about to put his feet up on his desk when his door burst open. His other assistant. Gino, stood there, a grin on his face.
“Inspector!” he rasped. “We have a problem!”
Vance’s feet crashed to the ground. Of course we did.
He sighed.
“Tell me what happened.”
Fiction.
This was written for the new season of
therealljidol, Wheel of Chaos! If you liked my entry, please consider voting for me or any of the other amazing contestants. You can find all the entries here. Looking for the voting post on Tuesday night!
no subject
Date: 2025-09-30 08:19 pm (UTC)“Remember how Craft Delta Epsilon Beta was supposed to pick up Old Man Who Lives Alone in the Forest?”
I do feel sorry for Vance though. All that trouble, and the extraction team didn't even bring back the old dude.
By the way, I think you have a type-o in one line at the end.
Vance’s feet crashed to the crowd.
Ground.
Dan
no subject
Date: 2025-10-01 02:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-10-01 07:38 pm (UTC)“Who wouldn’t?” Paddemeyer agreed. LOL definitely me considering my phobia of tentacles creatures.
This was very cute!
no subject
Date: 2025-10-02 09:15 pm (UTC)Ahahahaha! It's a Murphy's Law kind of thing.
This was delightful. :D
no subject
Date: 2025-10-05 04:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-10-06 03:32 pm (UTC)