Arrr, the C.I.A. be tossin' new scallywags overboard, no doubloons for ye!
2025-03-06
Arrr, some fresh mateys be called to a secret cove, where they be forced to hand over their precious papers! Aye, 'tis a right jolly jest, for what good be credentials to a crew of scallywags? Avast, me hearties, keep yer treasure close!
But lo and behold! What awaited them was not a banquet of grog and good cheer, but a demand most peculiar. "Surrender yer credentials!" they cried, as if they were askin' for the very clothes off their backs! Credentials, ye say? Aye, them bits of parchment be like gold doubloons in the world of land work, but here they be, flappin' in the wind like a sail torn asunder!
These scallywags, eyes wide as cannonballs, wondered if they had been tricked by a crafty sea witch or perhaps a ghostly captain! "Is this some grand jest?" they thought. But nay, it be a serious business, one that made 'em question if their sea legs would ever find solid ground again!
So here’s the lesson, mateys: Never trust a call to the unknown without a hearty barrel o' rum at yer side. For in the world of work, as on the high seas, ye may find yerself in a right pickle, surrenderin' treasures ye never meant to part with! Arrr!