As I type this report, I'll emphasize it's importance by saying that I have already opened my box of government issue Cracker Jack and consumed the contents in compliance with C.I.A. directives. The box is now empty - except for the prize at the bottom.
    The events which led to the current situation are described in the following statements:
    "I, (Name deleted for security reasons.), was fulfilling my duties as  a U.S. Army drill instructor on the 17th of June, 1968. I had just introduced myself to my new company of recruits all of whom were draftees. Needless to say, they were a bunch of commie loving, pinko, pot smoking, hippie, long haired momma's boys who desperately needed to have a little patriotism beaten into their heads. As a preliminary step in this direction, they were marched off to the barbershop to be given regulation whiffles. 75 namby pamby recruits were delivered to the base barber shop, but only 74 were returned to me. Upon taking a roll call, it was discovered that the missing recruit's name was I.T.T. Addams."
    The next account concerns the events that transpired in the barbershop itself:
    "I, private William Tecumseh O'Brien (No need to delete name. Person has already been deleted.), was carrying out my designated duties as the base barber. After trimming non regulation follicles on several recruits I was confronted with the damnedest thing I ever saw. The recruit in question was entirely covered in hair from head to foot. A rather nice bowler hat was on top of the hair and a pair of sneakers were sticking out from the bottom. Immediately suspecting this to be a ploy of the psychological warfare boys to test my combat readiness, I nonchalantly spritzed the recruit with hair tonic, reached for the hedge trimmer which I reserve for my toughest jobs and, removing the hat and drop kicking it as per official guidelines, went about my work. It was the hairiest job I ever undertook, fur was flying everywhere. After several minutes it became apparent to me that the only thing in the chair was a few clumps of hair, the rest having been scattered about the floor. Those psych boys are good, I remember thinking as I swept up the hair, really good! And now you guys come around here pretending to be the C.I.A. Wait until I tell the wife!"
    After making inquiries into the identity of I.T.T. Addams, the difficulty of keeping the incident quiet quickly became apparent. It was revealed that Mr. Addams had recently been engaged in the acting profession and had occasionally appeared in a nationally televised TV show under his stage name of Cousin Itt. After identifying several witnesses who were deemed unlikely to keep quiet they were eliminated along with one or two other people I didn't particularly care for. The hair tonic was impounded and sent to a chemical warfare specialist for analysis. The specialist's report follows:
    "A thorough analysis of the sample of hair tonic you provided revealed no defects to the formula which was devised by this laboratory as directed by the leader of Project Yuppie. As anybody with an A1+ security clearance will know, this project was devised to develop and distribute hair care products containing minute quantities of X-14b nationwide. This formula, when applied to the head over a period of several years, leads to suppression of anti-establishment impulses and nurtures the need for material possessions and conformity. It is estimated that by no later than 1980 Project Yuppie will begin to bear fruit and that by the beginning of the new millennium we should be firmly in control of the minds of everyone in government. My conclusion is that this formula in no way contributed to the mysterious demise of I.T.T. Addams. I suggest declaring him awol and conducting the usual smear campaign to make his family look like a bunch of weirdoes and freaks."
    It will be realized by anybody with sufficient security clearance to read this report what my feelings were when I came into possession of a document containing A1+ secrets. Having only an A1 security clearance made my only course of action apparent to me. I have no regrets as I sit here and look at the almost empty box of Cracker Jack. I've always been proud to serve the Agency. I would, however, like to make one final recommendation. I would hope that in the near future the Agency will revert to the previous policy of suicide by cyanide capsule. Any cost savings benefit gained by reducing the inventory of the Fidel Castro Assassination Department's poison Cracker Jack stockpile is, in my opinion, offset by the lack of dignity such an end entails. And now I'll just open my prize...and wait.