Since the annihilation of Fakie Central late last year, we have had to relocate our headquarters to a secret location. Rent is a little high, and the view stinks, being several hundred feet below the surface of the earth in the sub-sub basement of an abandoned dishwasher factory.
But perhaps I have said too much already. Not to worry; your memory will be erased at the end of this post. In the mean time, we thought readers might be interested to see some of the internal mechanisms that keep Fakiegrind the cutting-edge chronicle of skateboard psychosis it purports to be.
Jenny, our stenographer, just had her selective memory erased
and she feels great!
We couldn't do what we do and do it right without that most pervasive of modern technological wonders: the telephone. Unfortunately, due to budget restraints we had to deck the new headquarters with slightly outmoded accouterments.
It takes a little longer to dial with these models, and you can't take advantage of touch-tone banking, but we don't really have any money in our accounts anyways, so these phones do us just fine. Happily, we have Rene at the switchboard, making sure our connections are secure and our lines don't get crossed.
The folks down at Department H are always coming up with new inventions to make an Agent's job a little easier.
Here we see an Agent using the new portable dictophone and nose-hair trimmer. He is also picking up satellite signals with his necktie. Simply amazing!
Another exciting addition to the technological arsenal of our field Agents has been the rotary car phone. With this handy device, if an Agent sees Maskatron or the Xister roaming about the town, or if there is a sale on at the local Secret Agent Accessory Outfitter, he or she can contact Headquarters right away to request back-up or further directions.
In the above photo, our stylish field Agent is actually being instructed as to the number of pickles to put on my Harvey's veggie burger. Thanks Fernando!
And here we have Dorota, our Fakie links researcher. Doroto's computer was state-of-the-art about thirty years ago, but it still works like a charm to bring you all the quality ephemera you have come to expect from a Fakiegrind hyperlink.
Finally, here is a glimpse into the very heart of our operation: the Fakiegrind Mainframe Computer, otherwise known as W.A.L.L.Y. 300.
Only two Agents actually know what the acronym stands for, and they are currently on assignment in XXXXXX, but W-3, as we like to call him, is where we store the Fakie photo archives,
the digital comic book library, and the microfiche version of The Book of Oldness.
It sure uses up a lot of batteries!
Oh-oh! Sebrina at the recon desk has just notified me that Maskatron and Spirella have been sighted having lunch with Evil Bob Robo-Dole at a local deli counter. I'm actually a little peckish myself, so I guess it's time to draw our tour to a close.
When I get a quiet moment, I like to look at my collection of
Well, thanks for dropping by. I hope you learned something you didn't know before, but prepare to forget it all as you stare into the Selective Amnesia Ray Generator. Stay old!