Shouts and screams echoed in the National Intel Organization – TOOTHBRUSH SKIMS ULCER. DON’T PUSH ME.
Johnny walked to and fro across his office with heavy footsteps, his eyebrow strained as his mind was cluttered. He snapped his fingers silently as he pondered upon that phrase.
“Toothbrush skims ulcer. Toothbrush skims ulcer. Toothbrush... What could it possibly mean?”
Agent M was shot dead while working on an important case. With his last bit of strength, he spoke through the mike on his lapel those six mind-boggling words: Toothbrush skims ulcer. Don’t push me. The officers working on the case burst out through the doors of the communications room, shouting and screaming as they demanded that every agent in the building gave them the most suitable interpretation of that phrase as it could provide the only breakthrough for the case they have been working on for months.