Welcome to the new and improved WarRoom! The shit has officially gone down, and this is the nerve center for all your panic-room needs!
An ultra high-speed computer bank processes and stores 15,000,000 hours of encrypted information every 26 seconds. The chairs are triple scotch guarded to resist the most aggressive coffee stains. The wheels contain ceramic bearings, meaning you can roll from one end of the center to the other in 2.7 seconds with one push.
The Brothers handle most of the processing and logistics. They are expert analysts, and were hand picked from a long list of assassins for their near-preternatural abilities of information assessment and violent acts. Above all else, DO NOT look them in the eye. The gentlemen in the foreground are their assistants. Talk to them and them alone.
Meet Mr. Buft Fupkin, otherwise known as the Answer Man. He can tell you what’s happening, who’s doing it, and what they had for breakfast last Tuesday. His wing of the WarRoom concerns itself with long-term planning and strategy. I do not recommend playing him at Risk. He will take Asia and destroy you with it. Sometimes he’ll start in Europe for fun. He is one of my most trusted, and my current #3.
This section of the WarRoom is reserved for the Useless Interns. I haven’t bothered to learn their names, and probably won’t in the future. Send them for coffee and condoms, but never anything useful. I usually catch them in the bathroom smoking pot and feigning masturbation. While this area may look sophisticated, in reality these computers do little more than play Solitaire.
This is the primary command post. All data interpretation and satellite observations are routed through here. It’s sound proof and the only air conditioned area in the entire WarRoom (I like to keep costs down, you know). Behind the desk is a full drum kit and a well-stocked wet bar. This area also doubles as a panic room.
Last but not least, security. Meet the Twins. They specialize in makeshift weaponry and lie detection, but their prime emphasis is on ending life. They are cunning, swift, and ruthless. They also make a mean Cosmopolitan and are amazing massage therapists. They take absolutely zero guff, can shoot the wings off a fly at 5oo meters, and enjoy quiet walks on the beach, ping pong, and practice veterinary medicine part time. They are my combined #4. It’s advised that you DO NOT look them in the eye either. They also prefer to be called ‘sir’.
This concludes our tour. Please take a complimentary parking pass and wine goblet. And we do feel it is in good taste to never mention the existence of this facility to anyone. We will know.
Have a joyous day!