It's Classified

It’s Classified

WC 295

“I need to see that file.” George stood in front of the desk and looked at the clerk.

The clerk looked at George and back down at the paperwork cluttering the desk. “Sorry,” he said. “This information is classified.”

“I have to see that file. Hand it over.” George held out his hand.

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t do that. This information is classified. I’ve been instructed not to let this file out of my sight.” The clerk looked up at George.

“What’s your name?”

The clerk looked back down at the paperwork on the desk.

George let out a loud sigh. The clerk looked up, then back down to the desk cluttered with paperwork. The clerk continued the work of shuffling papers from the left side to the right side of the desk.

“Okay, I can see that is getting us nowhere fast. I need that file. You won’t give me the file because you say the information is classified. Correct?”

The clerk behind the desk looked up at George. He said, “This information is classified. I’ve been instructed to not let this file out of my sight.” The clerk looked back down at the paperwork.

“What’s your name?” George already knew what the answer would be, but thought he’d try again.

The clerk looked up at George and said, “I’m sorry, but that’s classified information. Sir.” The clerk looked back down at the desk, and continued the work of shuffling the paperwork from the left side of the desk to the right side.

George walked around to the back of the clerk and pulled a plug. The clerk fell over in a heap over the top of the desk.

“Now give me that file. Classified indeed. Maybe they need to upgrade your software!”