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Third Floor Hallways, Saturday Afternoon

Secret Agent Gerard was pacing down and up the length of the hallway on the third floor.

So, someone had wiped his memory and that of his secret-agent partner, ~~Will~~ Jonie, and had left them in the hallway of what appeared to be a dormitory of some sort.

And whoever had done it had wiped his mind so thoroughly, he couldn't remember what a 'burger' was, though Jonie had assured him that such a thing really did exist.

Secret Agent Gerard Smith (Smith seemed like a very functional last name, as he couldn't seem to remember having a last name, either) was looking for clues. Which mostly involved stopping next to the garbage can, glowering at it for a moment, and walking away from it again while he tried to work up the nerve to check inside of it for possible bombs or flesh-eating parakeets.

It could happen.

(The hallway is open like an open thing.)

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Secret Agent Jonie Smith (who had picked that since it was also a common last name, and didn't know that Gerard had picked the same name separately) made her way down the hallway to where he was. She was still wearing the same things from late last night, since she couldn't figure out where to get a change of clothing from.

"I could find anything particularly suspicious around here ~~like those flesh-eating parakeets~~. You?"

Gerard shook his head, looking again at the garbage can skeptically in case it was secretly an evil robot.

"No luck," he informed her somewhat sharply, obviously growing frustrated. There had been a good deal of scouting that hallway since they had woken up in the common room (actually, Gerard hadn't woken up, really, as for whatever reason, he had found it irritatingly difficult to get to sleep in the first place) and they had nothing to show for it.

"Should we move along, or do you figure we're simply using the wrong tactics? Perhaps we require disguises."

Jonie gave him a look. "What kind of disguises? I don't know where we can get more clothes from." She sighed. "Maybe we need to go to the burger place? Maybe that's a secret rendezvous spot for the ninja gangsters who whoever did this?"

Gerard shook his head.

"I'm certain the ninja gangsters would expect us to try something like that. We have to be more conniving than that." He shrugged off his trenchcoat and frowned at it. "Take off your hoodie. We'll swap."

He was brilliant.

Well, seeing as they didn't have a whole lot to work with, Jonie thought that it was a pretty good plan. She unzipped her fleece hoodie and handed it over to him.

"Do you think that this'll throw this off our trail?" she asked.

Taking the hoodie and pulling it on, Gerard was relieved that it was only a little tight and a little pink.

Mostly, it was grey. Which suited him just fine. At least he didn't stick out like a sore thumb or anything.

Not that he had any clue how totally pasty he looked.

"It's worth a try," he said gravely, zipping up the hoodie in an attempt to hide most of the pinkish trim.

Jonie thought that Gerard looked really pasty and smelled a little funny, but she chocked that up to him being a goth. It probably made for a really good secret agent cover.

She pulled on the long black trenchcoat. It was much warmer that she thought it would be, and had something of a lingering scent of sulphur about it.

"How do I look?" she asked

"You look like that coat is far too big for you," Gerard mused as he gave her a once-over. "We'll have to cut it down, I think."

It wasn't as though he was fond of that coat or anything. Really, he couldn't remember a damned thing about it.

Jonie looked down at the coat. Gerard was probably right.

"But we still don't have anything to hack it up with." She paced back and forth a bit. "I think we might need to break into somewhere and set up a base."

For a secret agent who was possibly working for the feds, Jonie really had quite a taste for breaking into places, Gerard noted.

Wasn't it exciting, working with the bad cop?

"I suppose you're right," he agreed. "Pick a door, and we'll try to pick the lock. Then we can cut apart that old smelly coat, and we'll be well on our way."

Not that he knew how to pick locks. But it was worth a shot.

Jonie looked around the hallway. So many doors, so many doors. Where did they all lead to?

"Hmm. Should we pick one of the rooms in here, or in another building? After all, if we were supposed to meet in a burger place, there's got to be more than just this dorm thing."

"Then I highly suggest we seek refuge somewhere other than this building," Gerard decided. "It's too busy here. It's very difficult to be covert secret agents in the middle of a place filled with people."

"That's true," Jonie said, stroking her chin in what she hoped was a conspiratorial way. "Shall we get outta here?"

"Yes, I suppose we should get going," Gerard agreed, sparing the garbage can one last look before diving on it, tearing the cover off, and looking inside like a maniac to ensure that there weren't any remote-controlled zombie penguins lurking inside.

Satisfied that the parameter was secure, he put the lid back on the garbage can, turned, and started walking down the hallway.

Sir Robin the ~~Brave~~ Frog, crept along the hallway. He was searching for either A) A Princess, or B) Taminella, the witch responsible for all this. Also he was on the lookout for the Ogre mentioned in the court order. Hence the creeping.

A clue!

A small, green clue, sneaking its way down the hall.

Secret Agent Gerard Smith, bane of the Ninja Gangsters and currently a little amnesiac, did what secret agents did best.

He hunkered down low and crept along after the ~~frog~~ clue.

Oh noes! He was being followed!

"Who are you?" he demanded defensively, backing away slightly. Huh, didn't look like an ogre.

Gerard was not stupid enough to give away his real fake name when demanded for it.

...

Well, okay, perhaps he was.

"Secret Agent Gerard Smith, F.B.I." He really wasn't certain that he was a Fed, but it had sounded good at the time. So he was going to stick with it. "Mind answering a few... questions?"

Little defensive felt frogs. Probably an alien spy robot. Very suspect, indeed.

He didn't recognize the name, or the title, but the man sounded sure of himself, and legit. Not like an ogre at all.

"Nnnnno." he decided. "No, I don't mind." Maybe this would help him figure things out.

He was pacing again, his arms stiff by his sides.

Pacing helped him to think.

"Where were you the night of January the Sixteenth?"

Not that the date had any significance whatsoever. Really, he had no idea what the date was today. But it seemed like as good a starting place as any.

"I'm afraid I don't know sir. You see, I am under an enchantment."

"An enchantment?"

Ah, so it seemed as though this little frog wasn't an alien robot time bomb submarine, after all.

It seemed as though, amazingly, there were paranormal forces at work.

The truth was out there.

"What sort of enchantment?"

"Well a witch named Taminella, has turned me into a Frog, and wiped my memory." he said sadly.

Gerard narrowed his eyes skeptically at the not-an-alien-robot-speedboat-hippopotamus and stopped pacing.

"Your memory has been wiped as well?"

This was more a clue than any he could have hoped for.

Apparently, the Ninja Gangster Witches also held a grudge against the little felt frog.

"How long as your memory been gone?"

"I couldn't say for certain, but I woke up this morning with no memory of who I was. Fortunately there were documents nearby that explained at least part of it."

Gerard hadn't been fortunate enough to wake up next to any sort of documentation. There had been a letter written in codespeak that involved a burger, that was all the help he was going to get.

"Did these documents mention anything about anyone else losing their memories as well?"

"Why no." Robin said. "But there seems to be a lot of that going around. Taminella must be even more fiendish than I thought."

Fiendish. There was a good word for it.

Gerard was thinking more along the lines of "maniacal criminal mastermind," but fiendish would work as well. The cursed felt thing was very wise.

"And did the documents mention where one might find this criminal so that she might be brought to justice?"

Robin sighed. "No, unfortunately not. It did mention that she had an ogre as her servant though."

For whatever reason, Gerard was somewhat skeptical about the existence of large ogres. But if the truth really was out there, he reminded himself, he should take all pieces of evidence with a grain of salt.

"I haven't seen any ogres," he remarked. "But I'll be certain to keep an eye out for them."

"Good idea. I'm doing the same, in my real form I'm sure I could take one on, but like this?" He gave a heavy sigh.

Gerard nodded sympathetically.

"At the very least," he offered, "being so small gives you a stealth advantage. Stay to the shadows, don't be seen- it's easier when you're..."

Maybe about a foot tall and made of felt, apparently.

"You'll be fine."

"Thanks." Robin said, feeling a bit better. "Best of luck to you Sir Smith."

Gerard nodded grimly.

"And to you as well. I hope your paranormal issues are solved most expediently."

He was a covert secret agent. He was going to use big words. Because they made him feel important.

Hey, a tiny frog! Jonie thought that it looked pretty cute. She bent over to say something to it, but froze halfway through. The frog was made of felt. A frog made of felt was creeping down the hallway.

Something was so not right about that.

Robin froze as well, looking at the girl. Maybe she was a princess? "Uhm, hello." he said tentatively.

It talked. It talked.

As a secret agent, Jonie should have been prepared for anything, but she ended up just staring openmouthedly at the talking felt frog.

Oh dear. He should have expected this. "Uh, I come in peace?"

"Wh.. what are you?" Jonie asked. She still wasn't taking her eyes off that thing.

"I'm a Prince." Robin said resolutely. "They call me Sir Robin, the brave."

"Oh," said Jonie, starting to feel less freaked out about the green thing. "Nice to meet you Sir Robin, I think. You're kinda short for a prince, you know."

"I know. But I'm an enchanted prince, a witch turned me into a frog."

"Did she?" Jonie asked. "Well, she did a pretty good job, because you look just like one."

Only made out of felt, but she wasn't one to split hairs. At least she didn't think she was.

"I think she might have lots of experience."

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Third Floor Hallways, Saturday Afternoon

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