Toney stepped away from the sacred land in awe and began to plead.
"Dear Mr. General, I beg you, I'm not a spy. My mum just sent me away from home to find some kind of work for myself, but my motor broke down, and I was just trying to get some help."
"Is that so?" The general pondered. "What's your name, son?"
"My name is Toney. Simple Toney."
"All right, Toney, my boy, perhaps there's a service for you here. It's dangerous, even deadly, but it comes with an honour. Whether you survive it or not," the general said. "Do you want to be a spy?"
"No way," Toney said immediately, because he wasn't that simple.
"That's a problem," the general swished his stick. "Because then I'll have you brought before a military court, where they'll quickly sentence you to be dismantled."
"In that case, I'll take it," Toney said right away. Anything is better than dismantling, he thought, even if he have to be a spy, whatever that might mean.