Madeline’s usual air of control and calm was being sorely tested. Where the hell those damn pruning shears went, she couldn’t figure out. It wasn’t as if Section was infested with gardening fanatics who would steal them. And besides, everybody had guns, so who’d need scissors? She had already torn open every drawer in her office, and shifted every piece of furniture looking to see where they had walked off to. In fact, her office looked as if had been quite thoroughly ransacked. She REALLY needed to prune those pesky weeds TODAY!

In a most un-Madeline like gesture, she flopped into her desk chair, sliding down until the base of her neck rested on the back of the chair and her arms hung limply over the sides. In total exasperation, she sighed (loudly), and uttered an oath that can’t be repeated here. Where the hell did those bloody things go to, she continued to ponder.

Finally admitting defeat, she struggled to collect herself again. Sitting-up, she smoothed down her disheveled coif, and decided on an alternative plan of action. Perhaps she’d go play mind games with Operations. Hummmmm, that always made her feel better... and then there were new recruits to torment too. So, with a slightly improved attitude, she headed off in search of Section’s chief, leaving behind her reign of destruction that had touched everything, except...

********

Much, much later that evening, Bertha approached Madeline’s office with her cleaning cart. As the door slid open, Bertha froze, her eyes becoming very large, as she stared at the devastation in front of her. Drawers hanging open, furniture overturned, papers scattered everywhere. Slowly she entered the room taking in every detail, her mouth slightly open in utter amazement. What had happened, she wondered. There were no bodies, or blood, or bullet holes. Finally her eyes came to the lighted recessed shelves occupied by the now oversized bonsai, and suddenly everything fit.

“Oh Ernie,” she sighed lovingly, as she shook her head gently. A benevolent smile played across her lips. Chuckling quietly, Bertha stooped down to begin straightening up.

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