"LESS" IS LESS

Those who are in the market for the services of a secret organization may well be tempted by the vulgar advertising of cut-rate spies. After all, international espionage does not come cheap, and many governments are trying to watch their budgets these days. However, as too many unhappy customers have discovered, espionage at bargain-basement prices is no bargain!

The worst offender is the derivatively named "TILE FOR LESS," an agency based in a squalid hut on the outskirts of the Las Vegas Strip. It preys on the many foreign dignitaries who flock to Las Vegas in a pathetic attempt to raise government funds through gambling, promising them spy service at half the price of the leading espionage organization (hence the impertinent half-globe logo shown in the photo to the right of this page).

To further dazzle prospective customers who come to call, the people at TILE FOR LESS add a few flashy cloak-and-dagger touches, such as a ridiculous password entry system taken straight from Prohibition-era stage farce (for one week it was actually "swordfish"), or their "Pyramid of Silence" security device that is actually a piece of patio furniture, or the male model they pass off as their star agent. Window-dressing, indeed! All of this silliness is meant to reassure the client that TILE FOR LESS knows the spy business. It is all very impressive to those desperately in need of covert force or intelligence, but short on cash and clear judgment.

At TILE FOR LESS, "half the price" buys the services of an agency that uses secret codes from Highlights for Children. The knock-out drops they use on enemy spies are simply over-the-counter sleeping aids. Their so-called daggers are butter knives swiped from Bickford's Cafeteria and sharpened. The oil slicks they use in car chases are actually discarded cooking grease from the local Canadian Fried Chicken franchise. The wristwatch phones they issue are pay phones, complete with coin slot. Heaven help the discount agent who gets caught without spare change in an emergency!

All of this "service" comes not from a trained team of secret agents, but from an overweight, bug-eyed, wild-haired bumbler and his bland, lackadaisical partner who works part-time as a two-bit lounge singer. Truly, when it comes to bargain spies, you get what you pay for!

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