"Yeah, I was a year above Rin in middle school. Quite the beautiful... lady... she's become, eh?"

The message from dorito pasted itself across Joe's browser window but he had already alt-tabbed into his mail client. Joe hurriedly scrolled through page after page of archived e-mails in the box "mai waifu" until he found what he was looking for, an e-mail entitled "in case of emergency." When they had begun dating, he and and his girlfriend had exchanged cellphone numbers. She had made it clear she didn't want to talk often, citing "criminal government" wiretapping as her reason. Joe had saved her number all this time, respecting her wishes.

But now was the time to make a call, he decided. It was an emergency. She was about to bust into a government function, dog in tow, and probably get killed by whatever security detail the DHS had arranged. That would <i>really</i> piss off the Berkeley radicals, and <i>that</i> would be a true tragedy.

Joe whipped out his cell and dialed in his girlfriend's number. Before pressing the green talk button, he prayed silently. <i>Please, God, let this moron answer my call.</i>

The phone rang once, then twice.

It occurred to Joe that if his girlfriend went through with her ridiculous plan—whatever it was—that wiretapping she had complained so much about could come back to haunt him. He saw the entire scenario play out: she would answer as she walked through the doors of the Berkeley City Hall. She would be shot to death on the spot and be posthumously named a terrorist. As such, her call logs would be scrutinized. He would become her accomplice. His entire office would become a terrorist cell. He didn't give a damn about Ms. Harris, but in spite of all her ignorance and idiocy she was still an upright citizen and didn't deserve the terrorist brand. And there was the old diner manager, and the folks at his church.

Joe knew it was time to do his part in the total war against terror. He was going to save his colleagues, his fellow Americans. It was his duty, it was his pleasure. He smiled at the thought of his heroism.

He hung up.