“¿What’s the password?”
“I don’t know,” said the secretary.
“Sorry, let me ask that question ‘gain in a way that’s easier to understand.”
The spy pulled out a gun & aimed it @ the secretary’s head, causing the secretary to twitch a li’l in his seat.
“I told you, I don’t know…”
The spy put his finger on the trigger. “Well, I’m not too interested in people who don’t know, so…”
“Wait…” The secretary looked round the room, sweat visible on his face.
“¿You starting to remember?”
“Look under my shirt.”
“I’m not interested in jokes, Sir.”
“That’s where you’ll find it–I swear.”
Sure ‘nough, ‘pon pulling up the hem o’ the secretary’s shirt, the spy saw tattooed on his abdomen the word “password.”
The spy screwed his eyes in anger, but then turned & typed it into the computer. Next he saw the password prompt disappear, replaced with the full freedom o’ the desktop.
The spy smacked his forehead. “¿Why didn’t I try that already?”