"Really? You police have code speak for a guy drunkenly driving himself to the police station?!? Wow, you guys are thorough!"
— Kevin McCaffrey, The Smoking Gun Presents: World's Dumbest Drivers
"96-18, we have a 96-18 in progress. Subject is in possession of a Sauropod, Bronto, possibly Apatosaurus, requesting backup immediately."
— Percy, Epithet Erased
Good old International Codes. They'd been devised eighty years before, but the men those days had really thought hard about the kind of perils that might possibly be encountered on the deep.
He picked up his pen and wrote down: "XXXV QVVX".
Translated, it meant: "Have found Lost Continent of Atlantis. High Priest has just won quoits contest."
Bubbles: Has Faye come by here recently?
Nora: Wait, hang on, is she missing?
Bubbles: I am not concerned for her safety... only, there may have been an-an incident between us, at the shop earlier.
Nora: Okay, sweetie, don't panic. Take a seat and I'll make you some tea. [dials her cellphone] Hey babe — Code 3. Yeah. Bubbles is here at the shop. Cool. See you soon.
Bubbles: You have an operational code for this situation?
Nora: No offense, hon, but the writing's been on the wall for awhile now. In neon paint. Sixty feet high.
Nora: Wait, hang on, is she missing?
Bubbles: I am not concerned for her safety... only, there may have been an-an incident between us, at the shop earlier.
Nora: Okay, sweetie, don't panic. Take a seat and I'll make you some tea. [dials her cellphone] Hey babe — Code 3. Yeah. Bubbles is here at the shop. Cool. See you soon.
Bubbles: You have an operational code for this situation?
Nora: No offense, hon, but the writing's been on the wall for awhile now. In neon paint. Sixty feet high.
