[ WP ] The agent turned and whispered into the secret microphone , `` thank god my crotch is full of spiders ''

Secret agents are people, too. 
 
 Few understand the depths of boredom that comes with serving in a secret organization. A key component of being recruited is your appearance, namely that you do n't stand out in a crowd and have all of the'common feature' traits without any identifying marks of any kind. You are then disappear from society and do everything you can to not get a wound on any part of your body that's normally visible. 
 
 Seriously, they put padding on your shower head. 
 
 It does n't help that whoever thinks of themselves as the interior decorator of these agencies thinks that grey is an exciting color. If I were to go color blind one day I'd never notice. 
 
 One of the few graces we are allowed, as agents, is to ability to pick our code-words. Someone actually grasped the concept that being able to understand each other when speaking into the tiniest microphones in the world over the weakest wireless network in the world was important to do our jobs. 
 
 A lot of our spare time is spent talking to each other inside of sound-proof boxes and finding out how often we misunderstand each other. Only the phrases and terms that have at least a 99.7 % success rate are allowed as valid code-words. 
 
 Trust me, it takes a LOT of whispering into a tiny microphone to reach a number where 99.7 % is a valid measurement. 
 
 Naturally, we tend to start with realistic statements that would actually make sense if someone were to over-hear: `` I wonder if I left the oven on.'' or `` Shit, there's Miranda, she looks hot tonight.'' It's really quite remarkable how having a diverse set of regional accents can mess up perfectly legitimate phrases when heard with a sound quality that of gargling marbles while drowning in pancake batter. 
 
 So you see, `` Thank god'' became our term for `` Extreme danger'' and `` Full of spiders'' became out term for `` is looking towards the entry door.'' 
 
 It simply came to be, though a lot of testing, and a little bit of frustration, that `` my crotch'' can be clearly heard by all of us enough for it to be chosen as the codeword for the President. 
 
 If we had known the First Lady's hearing aid was malfunctioning and pointed right at the agent at that moment we would have selected a less agency-embarrassing codeword.
