Redundant..
(begun Saturday 15th March at 4.15am.)

*'That can be omitted without loss of significance.' Yep, I'd say I pretty much fit the bill there..*
Give Blue Security a plug? Sure, no problem. Like all the other big outfits makingmillions off of the engineered crime tsunami in this country, the top guys will be well aware of the Project technology and it's abilities, and they'll see to it that they do as they're told. It's taken them over a fortnight to 'find' the stocks of the two panic buttons and the wireless box we're having fitted, and for someone to finally call my old man yesterday, to say they'll be around before lunchtime today.. Bothered? Not a chance. Hey, if it makes the GameWrecker feel better to pay for this service, then it's all good, although the delay in the tech's arrival will most definitely have been in finding a day that suited my Controller, rather than depleted stocks..

Naturally I'm unsure whether Blue's wireless box will have to be set to a frequency of Agent Balliram's choosing, so that if necessary he can block the signal the minute either of us press that button, (just as he had when my CPF Treasurer hit hers, during their home invasion, and it failed to go off immediately) or whether he would go straight after the battery.
So no - I'm under no silly illusions that we're paying for something that might actually save us, should we have a repeat performance of the 26th February. There's all sorts of opportunities for mischief surrounding this minor security upgrade, and you can bet the Project's Entertainment guru next door will take full advantage of it.

Will that raucous siren go off randomly, just as our little battery-operated gate bell kicks in, untouched by human hand, when it's jolted by one of next door's remotes? Care to take a flyer on how many times the response guy will end up banging on our gates to say the Control room said the alarm had gone off and they couldn't reach us to check if we're okay? Watch this space folks...
On the other hand, the young man from Blue who'd responded to our recent ordeal had truly been kindness itself, and I really appreciated the concern he'd shown...

Our landline? The GameWrecker finally called Faults again yesterday, to find out WTF was going on. The operator checked her screen and said she had no record of a fault being logged at all.. Hau! He'd called the Faults number on Wednesday, and had waited for almost twenty minutes before an automatic voice had answered, giving the alternative option of sending them an sms... So he'd hung up and sent a text giving the details, to which he'd immediately had a response saying the Fault had already been logged. Which of course, it now turns out, it hadn't... Gremlins?
It would appear that unlike the last 2 occasions, Telkom aren't in any rush to get our landline back up and running..

Would the Director of TweaksRUs care to say why? Is the landline set to stay down at least until we've had the wireless box and panic buttons installed, at which point the Telkom tech will magically arrive at our gates? *yawns...
Has our dear Controller matured in any way over the years since our lives were handed to him on a plate? Hell no - If that were the case, he'd probably be out of a job, for I suspect it's his sick and juvenile sense of humour that his Handlers find irresistible...

In my 'Forgive them, for' update, I'd told you how No. 17 had said they could hear the whistlers out there in the dark?
Then you won't be surprised when I say that around 4.45pm yesterday afternoon, a couple of hirelings out in the valley nearby, dutifully began their incessant piercing whistles... Sort of Grade 1 entertainment, but on a level we've grown accustomed to...
Around 3am this morning my Shift Monitor had seen fit to test-run the results of the concentrated jabs to my shins and calves.. Was he satisfied when I'd moved so slightly, only to have both of my calves seize up in a mighty cramp? You bet he was...
You might also want to keep an eye on the invisible 'bruise' that's materialised in the GW's upper left chest, that twinges badly at odd times, as I very much doubt it has anything whatsoever to do with our assailant's efforts, and everything to do with a carefully repeated application of lasers, while the old man is asleep, in order to weaken the tissue in that area...

Turns out the young girl with the bright dyed-pink hair who'd been inside No. 11's gates the day we'd had our 'visitor', wasn't Balliram's Graduate Newton after all... It seems she's the grand-daughter of the cottage next door on Jan Smuts Highway. Is she of an age to be a Recruit, or does her mama/brother hold that position for the moment? *waves to Charmaine... It's pretty brutal this side, as you'll come to find once you've moved into No. 11, but hopefully godschild will keep an eye on you, at least until they vanish on the horizon...

I'd climbed up the ladder yesterday morning and had cut away the bouganvilla that was obstructing Line of Sight between Balliram and Clive's powerful wall lights. Had I earned myself a minor reprieve as a result? Have I grumbled about any particular disturbances overnight, apart from the sudden vicious cramping at 3am? I have not.
The GW had mentioned feeling rather more nauseous than usual, and I confess I'd caught the fringes of that frequency as I'd trundled up and down the front lawn behind the pushmower, and it had been most unpleasant.
Don't give me the ARV's crap either.
I've not had so much as a hint of nausea since Someone had me slide to the floor on Tuesday, feeling that the end was nigh, and I'd bitched to poor Eddie of Raw Power as a result.

No. I'd aver that el Monstro has spotted the weakest link, and he's going after my old man with a will.. Despite his outward appearance, my hubby has excellent genes, and every medical test he has, he scores with honours... Something that it appears Agent Balliram is now making every effort to alter.. Again - watch this space... It's growing light, and I must get on..

LATER at 5.45am

I'd stepped out onto the verandah well before light, to be met by the smell of a Bushdweller's campfire .. It's been a while since the Light of my Life resorted to installing a hireling down in the bush, but it makes sense, does it not? The carefully escalated terror-tactics require that a nearby stooge randomly sets the dogs off in a froth, and I've no doubt that along with his handy cellphone, this stooge will have the ability to whistle quite piercingly...

Sunday 16th March at 4.50am

Having started his ARV's back on the day we'd ended up in Trauma, he said he'd had a few bouts of mild nausea since then, so I'm at a loss as to why he was laid low for almost the entire day yesterday, after all this time.. Or am I? We both react very differently to the delights being pumped into our home, but even I was feeling traces of that sick-inducing special.. At 1.59pm exactly, he'd turned from the TV (and I swear he'd looked startled) to say that his nausea had gone *poof!* and it hadn't returned, although he looks like death warmed over...
May I assume that our Controller no longer need check with his Superiors before embarking on his up-scaled assaults? Is his official Agenda such that we're both to be silenced one way or the other, as long as there's no suspicions aroused? Mr. van Zyl? *studies the vodacom Strategist... Any such edict would've come from the top, and I'm guessing you'd be aware of it?

Man, that bites. After the decade of service I've provided for the bored quantum 'warriors', to be made redundant at this stage, sucks bigtime.. Should I consider we're fortunate we're still on our feet for the moment, as I stopped being funny a long time ago?
Whatever frequency was being applied yesterday that had affected my old man so badly, had also had Cola looking for dark corners to hide in, hours after the Blue tecchies had left.. He'd paced and paced, tail between his legs in fear, and only at bedtime had his entire demeanour changed, and he was suddenly back to himself. Magic, I tell you...

Even as I sit here now at the desk, scribbling away, I too feel the barest traces of nausea, and you should be aware that unlike the GW, it takes a bucket-load of wireless to get me to that point.
At 4.55am the Spy had kicked off his alarm, albeit briefly.. Just arriving home, or simply enhancing the connection to ours? Who knows - but some twenty minutes later I've just taken a flurry of knives to my cancer, from the direction of his three aircon units...

My cheerfulness in the face of adversity mantra appears to have bitten the dust, and it's no wonder I've become persona non grata after all this time... Will you relish your front-row seats while you watch the two ancients get taken out, inch by tortuous inch? Some of you most certainly will do just that, while others will simply turn their heads away and pretend it's not happening...
I must thank those of you who may have attempted to help me, before coming to the conclusion that I wasn't worth it, and turning your faces away from my whines...

I suppose that now it's just a matter of waiting? Until one of the many proffered scripts is deemed a satisfactorily colourful way of shutting up this voluble Labrat for ever?
I could always learn to make tea for the Recruits, if that meant a stay in my execution? No. That smacks of desperation, and is beneath even this worthless Duracel Rabbit...
Stay safe julle.
Peace..

---oOo---

Sunday 16th March 2014 at 7.34am.