A secret mission

Who: Special Agent Doctor Patrick Cerebrum, Agency of Secret Security
Holistic Operative Liaison Executive (ASSHOLE)
Where: Variable
When: That's classified information
Business was slow in the psychiatric department. Of course, business was
slow in most psychiatric departments in the JMC, primarily since the
psychiatric department was supposed to not charge for its services. Of
course, most psychiatric departments weren't staffed by Dr. Cerebrum, and a
giant, mutated, telepathic appendix.
A phone rang, and Cerebrum grabbed it. "Dr Cerebrum speaking," he said. "How
may I analyze you?"
"Shut up and listen up. The hot dog store in the promenade of the Blue Dwarf
is a front for a smuggling organization that has been secretly siphoning off
Methane Hydrate from the storage canisters in the mining department and
selling it. As the resident ASSHOLE on board the Blue Dwarf, your job is to
deal with it. HQ out."
"My next real mission," Cerebrum said to himself, excitedly, then began
rummaging through his psychiatric equipment. "This will require all my
talent. My super stealth abilities. My amazing psychiatric talents. My
cunning wits. My brilliant self-narration skills."
A while later, at night, in the promenade
A shadow slunk across the promenade, avoiding patches of light and sticking
to the darkness. At this time of the night, the promenade was virtually
deserted, so nobody saw him.
A few minutes later, Cerebrum arrived. He didn't notice the cat burglar who
had just robbed most of the stores in the promenade, and he walked into the
hot dog store, whistling.
As he passed into the interior of the store, he stopped by the processing
room. "Hmm," he mused. "I've always been curious how hot dogs are really
made," and stuck his head into the door to take a look.
Cerebrum pulled it out a second later. "So that's where all those
Hymenoptera corpses went," he said, as he silently vowed never to eat a hot
dog again.
He found the tanks a minute later, and set up the explosives. A gram of the
stuff he had brought would blow up a building, so he took along a truckload
just to be sure.
A few minutes later, and he was at the other end of the promenade. "I wonder
what methane hydrate is?" he thought, as he activated the remote detonator.
The hot dog store went up in a spectacular explosion. Then the methane
hydrate tanks went up in a even more spectacular explosion. A huge fireball
roared down the promenade, mildly scorching the store fronts. When it hit
Cerebrum, it burnt off his hair, eyebrows and clothes.
"That's what it is," said Cerebrum woozily, then slowly fell over onto his
face.