The Great Data Escape
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of fumbling with codes, wires, and Harold’s questionable tech skills, they found what they were looking for: evidence of unauthorized access and plans that were so sinister, they might as well have had a sign that said “Evil Villain Stuff Here.”
“We need to get this out of here,” Acid Burn said urgently, her voice dripping with the kind of intensity usually reserved for action movie heroes.
Harold nodded, trying to look serious as he fumbled with the secure drive. Just as he started the download, because of course, that’s when it happened—
- the door burst open with a deafening crash. Security guards flooded into the room, their flashlights cutting through the dim light.
BAM! The door burst open with a crash loud enough to wake the dead (or at least the IT department down the hall). Security guards stormed into the room like they were auditioning for a SWAT team commercial, flashlights slicing through the dim light as if someone had hit the dramatic lighting switch.
“Freeze!” one of them yelled, his gun pointed at all three of them, though in fairness, Harold doubted the guy even knew who to aim at first. They raised their hands instinctively, their hearts pounding and their faces pale, making them look like a trio of very guilty ghosts caught in a haunted server room.
“Step away from the terminal,” another guard barked, clearly enjoying his moment of power.
Harold, channeling the spirit of someone who’d rather be anywhere else, slowly backed away from the terminal. His mind raced, not with brilliant escape plans, but with thoughts like, “Why didn’t I take that job in accounting?” and “Is this really how I’m going to get caught?”
The lead guard approached the terminal, glaring at the screen as if it had personally insulted him. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, narrowing his eyes in that way bad cop shows always make look cool.
“We’re trying to stop something dangerous,” Harold blurted out, his voice cracking slightly as he desperately tried to buy time. “You don’t understand—”
“Save it,” the guard cut him off, waving his gun like a dismissive hand gesture that happened to be armed. “You’re coming with us.”
Two guards grabbed Harold’s arms with the enthusiasm of people who had been waiting for something exciting to happen all night and were thrilled to finally have an excuse to arrest someone.
“Wait!” Harold protested, attempting to channel his inner lawyer, or at least his inner innocent bystander. “You need to listen to me!”
But they weren’t listening -probably because they’d already decided that listening wasn’t part of their job description. As they were being escorted out of the server room like a group of kids caught sneaking out after curfew, Harold caught a glimpse of Acid Burn’s face.
She gave him a subtle nod, the kind that said, “Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan,” but also kind of looked like she was suppressing a laugh.
Harold’s heart skipped a beat - or maybe that was just the lingering panic. Either way, he knew they were in for a wild ride.
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The Great (But Slightly Confused) Escape
As the guards hauled them down the hallway, Harold couldn’t help but wonder what kind of plan Acid Burn had up her sleeve. He also couldn’t help but notice that one of the guards had a piece of lettuce stuck in his teeth, which was either a very strange detail to focus on or proof that his brain was actively trying to distract him from the impending disaster.
“Look,” Harold tried again, “if you let us go, I promise you’ll be in on the biggest story of the decade!”
“Shut up,” the lettuce-tooth guard grunted, clearly unimpressed with Harold’s impromptu sales pitch.
They reached the elevator, where the guards began arguing over who had the keys. Apparently, in their rush to be heroes, someone had forgotten the small detail of actually being able to operate the elevator. Acid Burn took advantage of the confusion, nudging Harold with her elbow and whispering, “Ready to run?”
“Run? Now?” Harold hissed back, eyes wide.
But before he could finish his panicked question, Acid Burn kicked the lettuce-tooth guard in the shin, hard. He yelped in pain, dropping his flashlight, which rolled away dramatically as though it too wanted to escape this mess.
“Go!” Acid Burn shouted, and with that, they bolted, sprinting down the hallway like a trio of lunatics late for a very important date.
“Get them!” one of the guards yelled, but by then, they were already halfway down the corridor, Harold’s legs pumping like he hadn’t sprinted since high school gym class.
Escape Artists… Sort Of
They rounded the corner and ducked into a maintenance closet, Harold panting like he’d just run a marathon. Acid Burn quickly locked the door behind them, and they all leaned against the walls, catching their breath.
“That… was your plan?” Harold wheezed, trying not to sound too ungrateful but definitely failing.
Acid Burn grinned, her eyes sparkling with that crazy kind of brilliance that got them into this mess in the first place. “Improvisation, my dear Zero Cool. Improvisation.”
“Improvisation?!” Harold gasped, glancing around at the mops and buckets like they were somehow going to come to his rescue. “You call this improvisation?”
Arjun, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke up, his voice a nervous squeak. “Um… can we hide in here forever?”
Harold groaned, but before he could respond, Acid Burn’s phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and then grinned even wider. “Looks like we’ve got a way out of here.”
Harold’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Please tell me it doesn’t involve more running.”
“No promises,” she replied with a wink, opening a nearby vent cover.
As they crawled into the vent, Harold muttered to himself, “I’m never taking another job that involves a server room… or a heist… or Acid Burn.”
During the chaos, Harold had probably lost a screw or two. He was beginning to get soft in his head. He probably wanted to turn into a cook. This is where the lasagna comes in...
Harold’s sanity was not only about to leave the building but was also considering skipping town, even changing its name, and probably live a peaceful life in a quiet village.
So that was the result of this mental shake-up! Harold wanted to trade in his hacking skills for a chef’s hat and whip up some lasagna like his life depended on it!
Who knew the only ‘malware’ he’d be worried about would be a faulty meatball?
