Where No Man Has Gone Before

Where No Man Has

Gone Before

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Synopsis: Daria Morgendorffer has a new career in this terrifying sequel to Beavis and Butt-head Do America.

Author’s Notes: Moved to the story’s end.

Acknowledgements: Thanks to Mike Judge and Joe Stillman for the hilarious movie. The script is at Dailyscript.com.

When the black-armored men had crept into position, assault rifles at the ready, the squad leader silently signaled up the motel hallway. The tall man with the mirror shades, the suit, and the face of weathered granite nodded grimly. He then turned to the small brunette behind him in the black body suit and boots, waiting motionless at parade rest at the side of a round-faced man who also wore a suit. She came to attention as the tall man took off his sunglasses and solemnly gazed into the calm brown eyes behind her round glasses.

“Agent Morgendorffer,” growled the tall man in a drill sergeant’s voice, “this will be your trial by fire. In a few seconds, I’m going to send you down that hall alone to deal with the kind of sick scum that has soiled the pristine reputation of our fair nation and brought it to its knees. You will enter that room as quickly and efficiently as possible, then immediately engage a dangerous suspect in hand-to-hand combat, neutralize him, then carry out the mission for which you have been trained for the last four years. Are you ready for it?”

“I’ve been ready all my life, sir,” replied the small brunette.

The tall man nodded. “You are a credit to the ATF, Agent Morgendorffer. Agent Bork and I have followed your progress through training these last few years, and we have nothing but the utmost pride in your achievements. You are the best agent in your field of expertise that I have seen in the last twenty years. Your predecessor would be proud to see you in her place, if she were with us now.” His eyes misted over as he finished, but his iron exterior held its grip.

“Thank you, sir,” said Agent Morgendorffer. “She was my hero.”

The tall man looked back at the hotel-room door at the end of the hallway. “I am aware that the suspect in there is known to you, an old acquaintance from high school. Nonetheless, I expect nothing but the most professional behavior from you when you confront him. Do your job. Mercy is not an option. The future of the nation rests on what happens here tonight.” He looked back at the diminutive agent in black. “Can you handle that, Agent Morgendorffer?”

“I can, sir,” she replied.

“Good.” He stepped out of her way, clearing the forty-foot path to the door. “There’s only one place that scum could have hidden the negatives he took of the President’s twin daughters in the White House shower last Friday night. When I give the word, I want you to go in there, find those negatives, and make Agent Hurley proud.” His voice almost cracked when he spoke the name of the stocky, no-nonsense woman that Morgendorffer had succeeded, but he recovered.

“Just give the word,” said Morgendorffer. “Upchu—um, he won’t know what hit him, sir.” She allowed herself a cold smile that caused the round-faced Agent Bork to shudder.

“Get ready,” said the tall man.

She moved into a crouched position, hands out, legs tensed.

He inhaled and raised his chin. “Get ‘im,” he snapped.

By the time the second word came out of his mouth, she was already running down the hall, legs scissoring without sound, hands flashing before her. She then jumped and hit the door with the flying kick that split the wood from top to bottom, the two halves flying into the darkened room with a terrible crash. For an instant, there was no other sound—then a blood-curdling scream broke the air that caused the combat-hardened ATF men to fall back with blood-drained faces, their weapons trembling in their hands.

“God have mercy!” whispered Agent Bork, his face gray with horror as the screams continued unabated.

“God might, but she won’t,” said the senior agent in grim satisfaction. “She’s like fifty thousand volts right up the butt, best cavity searcher in the business. Just be thankful she’s on our side, Agent Bork.”

“I am,” said Bork, nodding swiftly. “Believe me, I am.”

The granite-faced Agent Flemming looked down the hall again as the other ATF men dared enter the room and turn on the lights. They all gasped in shock at what they beheld. Flemming felt pity for them. He knew what they saw wouldn’t be pretty, but it was what Agent Morgendorffer did best, better than anyone alive—and Charles Ruttheimer the Third now knew better than anyone alive what the penalty was for snooping on the President’s daughters, no matter if they were drunk or sober.

The screams inside the room reached a crescendo. Two ATF agents dropped their weapons and fled the room, their hands over their mouths. Flemming didn’t blame them one bit.

Agent Bork cleared his throat. “Uh, you know she forgot to put on a latex glove first, right?”

“We all make little mistakes,” said Flemming. “She’ll still get the job done.” He raised a hand to his brow and saluted her. “Godspeed, Daria Morgendorffer. Godspeed.”

Author’s Notes II: Why did I write this story? I wanted to write about a strong, heroic female character who wasn't afraid to assert herself in a male-dominated profession and earn the respect of her superiors and peers alike. Plus I thought, “Can I really write a story in which Daria gets a government job sticking her hand up people's butts? I bet I can!” So I did.

Original: 09/09/07, modified 11/04/07, 10/18/08

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