All was silent in the office area inhabited by ATF Team 7. Buck Wilmington, usually known for throwing paper clips at his partner, J.D. Dunne and for loud running commentary on anything that caught his fancy (especially those of the female gender), was silent. Ezra Standish, whose sexy southern drawl drove women to acts of wanton flirting, was answering questions in one-word sentences. J.D. Dunne, known for enthusiastic comments and just general enthusiasm, was communicating by sign language, and quietly at that.
The more quiet members of the team, Vin Tanner, Nathan Jackson (who was only noisy in the event of an injury to one of his team-members) and Josiah Sanchez were more silent than mice, since mice to make little scratching noises with their claws, and these gentlemen were practically not breathing.
The reason for this tense silence was that their team leader, Chris Larabee, was on hold again with Judge Travis' new automated attendant.
Larabee's silence was of the sort known to the team to be absolutely pregnant with incipient violence.
Even though Larabee's door was closed, all the ATF agents could hear the click and elevator music of the attendant clearly, over their own rapidly beating hearts.
A loud metallic click was heard to reverberate throughout the offices.
Ezra lifted a hand and began to count with his fingers, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1
Then the loud report of a gun destroying a telephone caused all 6 men to jump in reaction, even though they were expecting it.
Five men stood and walked over to Standish's desk and handed over twenty dollar bills, and then silently snuck back to their respective areas.
The morning continued in the same silence, as the men applied themselves to paperwork, and judiciously turned the ringers on their phones down.
Near noon, Ezra Standish raised his hand imperiously, and began the same 5 finger count-down. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
The main door exploded open revealing a very pissed off Judge Orrin Travis, who quietly stormed into Larabee's office, slamming the door behind him.
A distinct roaring noise, somewhat akin to two male walruses fighting for territory, emanated from Larabee's office, followed by Judge Travis marching out and slamming the door behind him.
The team members began taking out bills again, but Ezra Standish raised his hand once more, in warning this time. The door to Larabee's office crashed open, and their Team Leader strode out, with a death glare that froze the blood of even his closest friends.
Larabee stared at them all for a moment, further chilling said blood supply, and then stamped back into his office.
Ezra Standish quietly collected his winnings again, and they again set to work.
"Ya think the old dog would like to go to lunch with us?" asked Buck Wilmington speculatively, as the noon hour approached.
The door to Larabee's office opened and all froze, waiting for another application of what J.D. Dunne had labelled the, "Klingon Death Ray Glare".
Instead, Larabee's mood had apparently downgraded to merely extremely pissed.
"Hey, Cowboy," hazarded Vin Tanner, a very brave man, "Wanna go to lunch with us?"
"Hell, why not?" was the response.
At Inez's Saloon they were a subdued group, making Inez suspicious that they were up to something.
Finally Larabee relaxed, "Judge is making me pay for the damn phone and the other three I broke last week," he said sourly.
J.D. Dunne spat his coke across the table and nailed Josiah Sanchez, who merely wiped it off with a long-suffering patience known only to Eastern Holy Men and Mothers with Small Children.
"May I make a suggestion, Mr. Larabee?" Ezra Standish looked cool and calm as he asked the question, chalking up points in the bravado department.
"Sure," said their Leader, taking a bite of pizza.
"Revenge is a dish best served cold. Instead of fighting the Honorable Judge in his territory, bring the war to our ground."
"What the hell does that mean?" Larabee's voice was cold with impending menace.
"It means make our own automated attendant for Team 7," drawled the undercover agent. "I am sure Mr. Dunne could help us design a very special system for the Judge's amusement, complete with our own elevator music - or perhaps the 1812 overture, complete with cannon fire."
"Hot Damn!" said Buck Wilmington in patent delight.
Larabee lifted his eyes to his undercover agent and slow, insidious smile crept across his handsome features. "Ezra, you just may be a genius," he said softly.
Later that day, Team 7 instituted a special automated attendant system, designed to make sure that inhouse callers would be forced to listen to countless menus, apologies for waiting and the 1812 Overture in full volume.
Ezra Standish bet that by the following Monday, all automated attendants in departments would be deleted for reasons of efficiency and safety.
He donated the $100 he won to Josiah's mission as a thanks offering to Lady Luck for the respite on their nerves.
END
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