“Dude, I’m getting really serious about this,” she said.

It never occurred to me that she wasn’t.

“I even Netflix-ed a documentary on it,” she said. “That’s insane.”

Bitch, please. Everyone Netflixes documentaries about their life calling. How else are we supposed to find out it’s our life calling if we don’t watch documentaries about it? Why do you think I’ve seen Tomb Raider 12 million times?

Honestly.

“Ok, but I don’t think they want me. I basically have none of the skills or background that they require,” she said.

Again, bitch, please. Since when does anyone not want us? And who do they think they are anyway? The king of England? Because he wants us too.

The FBI is dying to take us.  

We do not actually possess any of the experience, education or skills the FBI considers to be the necessary foundation for entering the academy, as she pointed out. However, we find this to be nothing more than a bullshit detail. “Foolish consistencies are the hobgoblins of small minds,” said Ralph Waldo Emerson. And that’s exactly what we think of the requirement-shit. FOOLISH CONSISTENCY.

That is how you get the attention of any rogue FBI/CIA agents that may be cladestinely monitoring your Internet activity. You write in all caps. But seriously, everyone knows that. (NOT REALLY, JUST US.)

“I’m actually planning on going to an FBI career fair tomorrow,” she said. “How insane is that? That’s not ok. Why am I so obsessed with this? And what am I supposed to wear?”

“Ok, what you wear is totally key,” I said. ”I actually feel like we both need to go and wear vintage spycoats and big sunglasses and fedorahs and run around hiding behind pillars. Then, we can go up to them and be like, ‘Did you see us just then?’ and if they say no, then we can be like, ‘That’s right, bitches, where do we sign up?”

Jesus, that plan is brilliant.

“I don’ t know,” she said. “I feel like a black suit and an overly-starched white shirt are in order.”

“Possibly.” Then I remembered that Nancy Drew always word plaid skirts and knee-high socks and realized I may need to change my whole approach.

“Ok, but the training for the FBI is really hard,” she said. “It’s basically like becoming a marine.”

Why does she always have to be so pragmatic? This is about thinking outside the box and USING OUR COLLECTIVE GENIUS TO CONQUER OBSTACLES.

Because I can’t raise my heart rate or sweat. Ever. Hence, marine training is out.

“Can’t we just be desk officers or something?,” I asked. ”Do you really have to be in the shape of a marine to Google stalk people?”

“I don’ t know, but I think it would suck to be a desk officer. We want to be field agents.”

“Hmmmm, yeah, I think we’d have to work our way up to that, and I can’t do that,” I said. “I just want to be a field agent. No working my way up or whatever. Maybe we could be like Mata Hari.”

Mata Hari was that saucy little belly-dancing whore who used her belly dancing skills to bilk secrets out of French and German officers (depending on who was paying) during World War I.

We love Mata Hari.

“Maybe we could just start the Seduction Unit,” I said.

“I don’t know about that,” she answered. “That seems like a risky business with all the disease in the world.”

“No, we don’t have to actually sleep with anybody,” I said. “We can just wear really well-fitted suits and low-cut shirts and use our feminine ways to get men to tell us all their secrets and then later rule the world.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” she said. “There are some very slimy men in the world and we might have to seduce them.”

“That’s the thing, we never have to come in contact with them. This is all dependent on really well-fitted suits and low-cut shirts. Cleavage and female sexuality is the most ignored, under-used resource in the world. If we ever got it together and started using our sexuality to our advantage, we would rule the world in like five minutes. Men know it too, that’s why they keep trying to cover us up and demonize our hymen. BUT I WOULD NEVER LET MY FEMINIST VIEWS COMPROMISE MY DEDICATION TO THE JOB, ONLY FURTHER IT.”

On that note, she went back to being pragmatic.

“Ok, it also says that you almost always work alone, unless you are on a major case, and very few agents work their way up to that. So no partners,” she said.

“So we can’t be posted together?” I said. “I don’t know how I feel about that. I feel like our seduction powers are depleted if we are away from each other.”

Sometimes it takes more than one cleavage. On the really tough ones, anyway.

“Also, they don’t really want French speakers,” she said.

That’s bad for us. We are French speakers. And English. We speak English fluently.

“I can’t believe they don’t have a place for French speakers,” she said. “You can’t tell me that French people don’t commit crimes.”

French people are also really into cleavage too, from what I hear. I don’t know where I heard that from, but MY SIXTH SENSE WHICH IS OF X-MEN-LIKE QUALITY tells me it’s true.

“Ok, when you go to that career fair, tell them about the Seduction Unit,” I said. “I feel like they would be really in to that.”

“I’ll be sure to run it by them,” she said.

“Also, hide behind a pillar when you tell them. Then ask them if they knew it was you. That will show them how covert you are.”

See? We are good.

Of course the FBI wants us.

EVERYONE WANTS US.

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