I'm A Super-Spy, A Secret Agent

I'm A Super-Spy, A Secret Agent
Yup, I'm a spy. 'Been doing it for years. I got into the business because the CIA recruited at the fancy-pants college I went to. I passed some test with flying colors and got offered the job. I accepted it because it was either become a spy or work in the finance department of a company that made sewing machines. I figured the spy game would be more valuable in the future.

Now, it's ten years later and I'm realizing that this job isn't what I signed up for. Sure, I know a lot of juicy stuff, but no one is offering anything sexy for it. Not only have I never been offered a suitcase full of cash, I don't think I've ever even seen $100 flashed in my face. Granted, I'm not going to sell out for a mere $100, I'm not a punk, I'm a secret agent.

But where are the sexy women? I always wanted to see if my limits could be tested by a sharp-witted kitten with a black bra and something deadly in her purse. Don't you want to know what secrets lie within my super memory?

I'm warning you now though, you'd better be prepared for the challenge of your life, otherwise you could end up telling me everything you know while I climb out your hotel suite window.