text: [Themes: Humor]
  
  What is your last name?
  
  > Mudd
  "Good evening, Agent Mudd. Thank you for getting here so quickly..."
  He glances at your tuxedo. "...and you're already dressed for the part I need you to play this evening."
  
  "Oh? I was on my way to a party, this being New Year's Eve. But I'd rather be working, to be honest - while I'm a fan of the mayor and his wife, I'm not overly fond of going stag to New Year's Eve parties. What's the job this evening?" you ask, picking a piece of lint from your otherwise black trousers.
  
  Special Agent Buxton smiles amicably at you. "Well, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Mudd, but I'm afraid that's precisely where this evening's assignment takes you..."
  
  Another rather silly SpeedIF by Jacqueline A. Lott
  
  Beneath a flickering street light, 5th and Main
  Times have been hard in the spying business as of late, and the effects of budget cuts are hard and far-reaching: even Special Agent Buxton is reduced to meeting spies on dark street corners to hand out assignments.
  
  Agent Buxton stands here, waiting to answer your questions.
  
  > ask Buxton about the assignment
  "Tell me about the job," you inquire.
  
  "Yes, let's get down to business, shall we? This evening's job is a bit bizarre, even by our standards. We have some very reliable intelligence that..." He pauses, as if he's not quite comfortable with the part that comes next. "...that Adolf Hitler's scientists perfected a time machine and he plans to crash the mayor's party this evening. For what reason, we are unsure, but you must stop him at all costs."
  He lowers his voice and says, "All. Costs. Got me? You have a license to kill this evening, Mudd."
  
  With a smug look, Buxton produces a tiny box, which he gives to you. "Inside this is a mouse. But not just any mouse, mind you - it's an infected  mouse.
  
  > ask Buxton about the mouse
  He says, "Inside this box is a mouse. But not just any mouse, mind you - it's an infected  mouse."
  
  > ask Buxton about Hitler
  He says, "What do you mean, you don't know who Hitler was? Everyone knows who Hitler was. Didn't you have to take some sort of test before you got into Spy School? I weep for the future of our industry! Let is suffice to say that he must die, and that you are the man who will make it happen."
  
  > ask Buxton about the mayor
  He says, "He's not all that bad, as you know. More importantly, he's valuable to this administration. You must protect him."
  
  > ask Buxton about the backpay
  There's a pause, then he says, "I don't have time for idle banter, Mudd."
  
  "Look, you have the mouse and I've already explained the assignment - infect Hitler. I don't care how... just make sure that Hitler somehow comes in contact with the mouse's blood, feces, or saliva.
  
  "TAXI!" he hails a cab. You get in and direct the cabby to the mayor's house..."
  
  > ask Buxton about the infection
  Or are you just here to funnel some more cash into your Swiss bank account? Much as you hate to admit it, there's probably a lot of truth in the latter statement.
  
  You can see a table (on which are some egg nog and some hors d'oeuvres) here.
  
  > look at nog
  This coagulated mess of cream is popular for whatever reason around the holidays.
  
  This coagulated mess of cream is popular for whatever reason around the holidays.
  
  > take the nog
  You'd really rather not. You like the fact that your heart beats and your BMI is within normal range.
  
  > examine the hors
  The hors d'oeuvres on hand this evening are a variety of finger sandwiches in countless varieties, all scrumptious-looking.
  
  > take it
  You already have that.
  
  > take the nog
  You'd really rather not. You like the fact that your heart beats and your BMI is within normal range.
  
  A horribly snooty woman makes a move for the egg nog, but you block it with your body and chew your fried red panda sandwich in a very diligent, turtle-like manner, which repulses the would-be egg nog consumer. "Dreadfully sorry," you say through a mouth full of delicious finger food. "I've got this New Year's resolution to slowly masticate all sandwiches, and I'm starting early.
  
  > examine Hitler
  His dramatic entrance in the golf cart time machine aroused only temporary attentiveness in the guests. Despite his antiquated dress and ridiculous moustache, he was unable to hold their attention, and after their full fifteen-second attention span had been consumed, they went back to prattling on about their inane existances.
  
  A vapid man makes a move for the egg nog, but you block it with your body and chew your minced Riverine rabbit sandwich in a very pensive, cow-like manner, which repulses the would-be egg nog consumer. "Dreadfully sorry," you say through a mouth full of delicious finger food. "I've got this New Year's resolution to slowly masticate all sandwiches, and I'm very committed.
  
  > give the egg nog to Hitler
  (first taking the egg nog)
  You'd really rather not. You like the fact that your heart beats and your BMI is within normal range.
  
  A horribly snooty woman makes a move for the egg nog, but you block it with your body and chew your long-baked beaked echidna sandwich in a very meditative, sloth-like manner, which repulses the would-be egg nog consumer. "Dreadfully sorry," you say through a mouth full of delicious finger food. "I've got this New Year's resolution to slowly masticate all sandwiches, and I'm starting early.
  
  Hitler then siddles up to the egg nog bowl, but you make no move to stop him. In fact, you offer him a cup. "Mein Führer," you say, as you hand him the cup - possibly laying it on a bit thick, but a smile touches Hitler's lips, he nods to you, and he accepts your offer of the cup. He pours himself a helping of the thick, viscous, gelatinous (and deadly) goo. "Prosit Neujahr," he says, amicably, before downing the goopy, mucilaginous, glutinous (and deadly) glop."
  
  You watch Hitler carefully, and begin to count to yourself to see how long this is going to take. The average incubation time for hantavirus, the most common mouse-borne virus that springs to mind, is two to four weeks in humans. You know this from both your extensive spy training as well as your obsessive reading of Wikipedia.
  
  Two to four weeks?! Let's hope it ain't hantivirus, hm?
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  "Blech!" Hitler spits up some blood into his egg nog glass, the falls to a heap on the floor. That's what you were hoping for, deep down inside - fast acting Ebolavirus. Except - oh noes! It's so very infectious that soon you'll be infected, as well as all the guests. So much for collateral damage... What are you to do?!
  
  > take Hitler
  I don't suppose Adolf Hitler would care for that.
  
  The revelers are freaked out. How will you save them?
  
  > enter the cart
  There are so many reasons to not enter that contraption. First, you haven't the slightest idea how to drive the thing, through space or time. Secondly, who wants to be seen in a golf cart? I mean... really now.
  
  The party-goers are crazy with fear. How will you aid them?