The War Room

 Miles below the university there is a sub basement. It is filled with computers left and right. On the main wall there is a computer screen that takes up the whole wall. I'm guessing it is for press conferences and satellite surveillance. The whole place looks like a set from a 1980's movie. I can almost hear a general walking by shouting "Get the president on the line." I look closer and I notice that even the computer's look like they are from the 80's. They are the old Apple II computer's with the neon green graphics. There are rows and rows and rows of people staring at these old, archaic computers and gathering some sort of intelligence. The Dean walks me to a vacant computer and asks if I have heard of some sort of program. Naturally I did what anyone would do in my position, I lied. "Splendid." He says, completely believing my white lie. "Your job is to enter a password." "What's the password?" I ask. He whispers into my ear "Parents of the Bird." "That's it?" "That's it." "Why do you need me to do that?" The Dean adjusts his glasses. "We need you to do this because the computer will scan your fingerprints from the keyboard and that will be the additional pass code that we need." I take this in for a moment. The Dean interrupts my thinking "You are more important than you realize." "I guess so." The Dean puts his hand on my shoulder. "Do you think you can do this?" He asks. "Yeah, it really doesn't seem that hard." "Don't be so sure of yourself. This thing has a mind of its own." "I think I'll be fine." He looks at his watch. "You have slightly less than a minuet." "What?" "You're also being timed on this. Good luck." The Dean walks away. Feeling so sure of my self, I type away only to look up at the monitor and see "Purenths uf th Berd." A loud buzzer goes off. I couldn't believe it. That was nowhere close to what I was to write. I glanced at the Keyboard. All the letters were jumbled up. By this point I had about thirty seconds left. I could do this but I had to act fast. I tried typing with just one finger. I thought it was working, but my mind could not process the new formation of letters. I kept making mistake after mistake. Backspace after backspace. Before I knew it a siren went followed by a red flashing light. I had failed.  The Dean sauntered over to my station as if nothing happened and casually deactivated the alarm through a switch in the back of the computer. "Don't feel bad. This was just a test." He assures me. "What kind of test? What did you want me for?" I ask nervously. "You'll know when you're ready. In the mean time, do what you do best. Explore." I look up at him even more confused than before. "It's ok, go."