mouse0    

This is the first of a series relating the adventures of the Fraser and
Thatcher on a training tour in Disney World. Since all kinds of brand
names and corporations are mentioned through the course of this epic, let
me make it clear I own none of them, and I have used them purely for the
purposes of free entertainment, and will make no personal gain from this.
The due South characters belong to Alliance, not me. Disney World belongs
to some huge publicly owned conglomerate, not me. I hope they don't sue me
for some of the liberties I take in this series. I acknowledge the role of
Disney in the American Culture, and recognize it as a national resource. I
also acknowledge that management training seminars are a foundation of the
international economy, but do not need to be taken as seriously as Disney.


The only thing I own is the idea of putting all of these various parts
together and creating bizarre situations in which they interact.  

This series assumes that season 3/4 did not take place; that Ray and the
Riv are still around; that Thatcher never cut her hair or got as strange
as she did toward the end.  

Comments should be directed to tomato_3@excite.com 

 

Adventures in Mouseland - The Orders  

D-Day Minus 5 

by Pin 

 

They came in the Monday morning mail, two identical packages. One was
addressed to Inspector Margaret Thatcher, the other to Constable Benton
Fraser. Orders to attend a two-week seminar on New Leadership Techniques
for the Coming Millennium. The course brochure that came with the package
described an "innovative experience in goal oriented management theory,
streamlining strategic planning strategies, family-friendly workplace
environments, and new team-building concepts." 

"Oh, God, the thought of going to this thing makes my gums itch." Meg
Thatcher looked upon this assignment with the degree of enthusiasm one
usually reserves for major medical tests. The note that had accompanied
her package had indicated that RCMP headquarters had adopted a new
training plan for its consulate personnel. All liaison officers and their
deputies were being run through one of several similar courses. The intent
was to get them trained as teams so it was critical to the plan that they
go together.  

"This comes at absolutely the worse time. We have to get the budget
submission together, and the security coordination plan for the NAFTA
conference is due the week after this course. I'm going to see if we can
get out of this, ask to have the training postponed until after the
planning season." She really didn't want to go to this training session.
Deep down, she could tell from skimming the brochure that it was going to
be horrible, personally mortifying, and boring besides. She just knew it. 

Fraser had no information other than the brochure and no experience with
training seminars beyond the infrequent specialized courses he'd attended
on various police investigating techniques. He did read a lot and
recognized the terminology and concepts used in the course curriculum
description. He thought there could be some benefits to attending this
course. However, he also knew his boss and recognized when she was not in
the mood to have an alternative point of view presented. He had learned
quite a bit about that in the two years they'd been working together at
the consulate. 

"Understood, sir. I'll stand by regarding making arrangements for the
seminar. In the meantime, I'll continue working on the computer software
and hardware estimates." Still holding his information packet, Fraser
stood and at her nod and "Carry on, Fraser," headed back to his office,
Diefenbaker trailing behind. 

Two hours later Inspector Thatcher knocked sharply on Constable Fraser's
door, and after waiting 30 seconds - long enough for him to get
presentable - she entered. He had learned to read her moods more
accurately in their time together; she had learned to not just barge into
his office. Although he had finally moved out of the consulate, into
another small, Spartan apartment, in another rundown building in his old
neighborhood, she had by then retrained herself to wait before entering.
She'd had one too many shocks at entering his office to find him half out
of his uniform, or worse. She had finally decided that if she was going to
let him live in the consulate, then she had to respect his privacy. It was
still all rather strange to her, but she'd decided to pick her battles a
little more carefully where Constable Fraser was concerned. 

From the look on her face, Fraser already knew the results of her effort
to get relieved of the requirement to go to the training seminar. 

"We have to go to the seminar. I talked to every person in the training
and education chain of command, all the way up to Superintendent Wilson.
Apparently everyone has tried to get out of these sessions, so they've
cracked down. Regardless of schedules, vacations, elective medical
procedures, overseas relatives coming to visit, children's dance recitals,
and a plague of locusts, everyone scheduled to go - goes. They are sending
personnel from Toronto to fill in for us while we are gone. We have a week
to get ready. I didn't look at the information very closely, do we need to
make travel arrangements?" She sounded positively grim, resigned, but
grim.  

"Sir, according to the information packet, all of the travel arrangements
have been made by the Education & Training Directorate. The tickets will
be sent via courier. Lodging is on the park grounds. A rental car has
already been reserved. Ah, um. . . " He paused, knowing that he should
tell her the details, but dreading the last little fact he had to deliver.
She had nodded at each piece of information he mentioned. Now she looked
up expectantly. Something about his expression, or rather total lack of
expression told her that worse was to come. 

"What is it Fraser? Spill it, when you get that tone in your voice I know
there is another shoe that you are going to drop. So tell me the deep
hideous thing that you think is going to make me crazy."  

"Sir, by any chance, did you note the location of the seminar?" He thought
he'd lead up to it gradually. 

"Somewhere in the southern United States, I gather. I didn't look beyond
the cover - it looked awful enough. Why?" She had carried her packet with
her and now sat down in the chair by his desk. Pulling out the contents of
the envelope, she started shuffling through the stack. Stopping suddenly
when she got to the glossy flyer describing the special attractions of the
seminar site, all of the color leached right out of her face. 

"Oh, my God! Tell me it isn't true. Two weeks! We are going to be there
for two weeks! I will go mad, stark staring raving mad." She sat stunned
at the horror of it all. 

"Sir, I'm sure it won't be that bad. After all, they are experienced in
handling a variety of visitors. I'm sure there is something for everyone.
I should tell you, however, that the accommodations are a bit unusual," He
stopped as she looked up from her blind perusal of her shoes.  

"What, what more could they do?" She really didn't want to know, but she
recognized that he thought it was important, so she should demonstrate to
her subordinate that she was made of sterner stuff and could take what was
thrown at her. 

"They have decided to reduce the lodging costs by renting time-share
apartments at off-season rates rather than individual hotel rooms.
Apparently each team is assigned to an apartment, as part of their
team-building strategy. We are in the Gorilla Compound. I believe it is
part of the Tarzan Complex, outside of the Animal Kingdom." He decided to
study the fold out map of the complex, rather than watch as her face
crumpled at the latest news. 

"Fraser, are you telling me that we are going to be living together for
two weeks, in Disney World?!!?" She sat there stunned, not knowing what to
do.  

"Uh, no . . . I mean, uh . . . well, that might be . . . Oh Dear." While
Fraser would never have picked those words to describe the situation, he
was not going to argue with her right now. He stared once more at the
colorful diagrams and tried to control the shivers running up his spine. 

 

 And somewhere far, far away, a man sat in his office and laughed, and
laughed, and laughed. 

 

This is only the beginning . . . .