The Kleenexites Strike Again

The battle-weary captain set her resolve. She could delay no longer – it was time.

She resolutely approached the entrance to the black hole (known locally as the ‘laundry’) and gathered the essential safety equipment. Lifting the lid of the washing machine inside, her heart sank.

Despite her meticulous preparations, a Kleenexite raid had somehow slipped through the defenses.

She stared in horror at the carnage before her. How had this happened again? She was certain she had checked every crevice to prevent such a sneak attack, yet somehow they had infiltrated the camp and carried out a devastatingly effective suicide mission – the third in as many days.

Tempting as it was to simply blast the scene in the tumble dryer to destroy the evidence, she began unloading the washing machine. She was doubtful she would be able to locate the origin, but knew she must try for the sake of her crew. Perhaps future raids could be prevented by locating the weakness in their defenses.

She set to the mind-numbing task of checking each item meticulously as she hung it out. As she did, her mind turned the issue over. Of one thing she could be certain – this was the fault of a senior officer. The two junior officers on board were simply incapable of performing the necessary actions. The older of the two was rapidly approaching the age of leaving items in clothing, but the oft-glistening skin above his lip betrayed his unfamiliarity with the rebel tissues. The youngest member of the crew…well, the captain doubted the younger was even aware he had a nose.

No. Clearly the breach was much higher. She sighed. She was sure her co-captain had received the last memorandum she had released regarding the increasing frequency of such attacks, warning all officers to be vigilant. Apparently he did not absorb the message. He was, after all, the most likely source of the security breach.

She stopped her work briefly and stretched. It was only 0930 and already she was weary. Her junior officers had both required significant attention overnight, plus there was a pre-dawn Lego incursion. Try as she she might, she could not stop every single one of the countless attacks on her ship. She returned to her task, aware that the youngest officer was due on watch shortly and would require her constant presence.

Suddenly she stopped. She had located the origin of the attack. Breathing quickly, she turned the offending article the right way as she anticipated her the confirmation of her suspicions. She was already planning the discussion she would have with her co-captain regarding the matter.

But that conversation would never happen. Aghast, she sank to the floor as the realisation sunk in. The piece of clothing was her own.

She was the source of the breach.

Eyes closed, she leaned her head against her knees. Everything she knew suddenly changed.


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