Work Text:
Dong. DOGE. Delete.
Alex was standing outside the restroom of the hallway, growing impatient by the moment, but nervously excited. It had taken two nights and three orders of takeout for he and Thomas to develop their plan. Resistance. As simple as it may be, the ramifications of the next 6 hours would have a ripple effect felt around the world for decades to come. He tapped his sneaker repeatedly on the waxed tile and did his best not to lose his stamina or his nerve. This was most likely he and Thomas’s last day as employees for The Department of Education and there was only one thing let to do.
“What are you doing here,” a voice called out from down the hall. Alex’s face shed a slight wrinkle of fear, but quickly regained his charm. The man approached, a smug, sure-of-himself grin plastered on his face. “I asked what you were doing.”
“Oh,” Alex slouched his back against the wall. “I was just, uh, waiting on my friend.”
“Your friend,” the man responded with a condescending, jagoff tone. “You see,” he started on one of the incessant, illogical rants all the muskrats had been doing. “That’s part of the problem. You people don’t even show up for work half the time. And when you do, you’re wasting my fucking tax dollars to hangout with friends.” The man smirked, leaning in toward Alex with an ill-attempted glare. “That ends now,” he crooned. “You and your friends can go fuck around on someone else’s dime now.” The tall, lanky, ketamine-fried goon started back down the hallway with a final, dumbass farewell. “DOGE, out!”
Jesus Christ, Alex thought. I went $60,000 in debt to get a job snd for what—so some virgin with Albolene-greased hands with a premium X account can lock me out of my office? Alex had told himself he was past the anger, that he had made peace with the Department of Education being ransacked and facing mass unemployment. The truth was, Alex had no intention of going quietly, and neither did Thomas. It’s what had led to the takeout and late-night brainstorming sessions.
The plan was simple. Their log-ins had been restricted by Musk and his band of Discord junkies now had near-exclusive access to the complete Department’s servers, but if there’s one group just smart enough to outwit a Discord user—a Reddit user.
While Thomas spend the night before frantically developing a template batch file and typing out lines of code, Alex had been scouring subreddits, notifying their resistance comrades via their own set of dogwhistles of the impending victory. They were only two people, and there were numerous tasks that would need to be handled outside of the DOE once the seed had been set. So, Alex had spent the entire previous night calling in favors and relying on his expertise flirting to delegate across Reddit.
Thomas had been working as a backend engineer on FSA integration for years and Alex, though a relatively new federal employee, was a compliance analyst who had mastered his knowledge of loan serving, DMCS, and audit flagging. They were the most unlikely of superheroes, two regular dudes who had accepted their fates as white collar drones. They never expected to be at the epicenter of a nationwide resistance and fascist coup, but here they were, two best friends up against the richest man in the world and a handful of basement-dwelling Pepes.
“Finally,” Alex sighed, spotting Thomas circling toward the restroom. “What the fuck took so long?”
“No here,” Thomas hushed, tilting his head into the restroom where they knew they could find privacy. They strolled up to the urinals. Alex saddled up beside him which drew a wincing smirk from Thomas. “Move over one,” he barked. “Someone walks in here and they’ll know we’re up to something.”
“Huh?”
Thomas rolled his eyes. “Dude, it’s the golden rule or public restrooms. One urinal in-between... it’s basic courtesy.”
“Sorry,” Alex rolled his eyes. “I assumed since we are committing a federal offense, chivalry was out the window.” He stepped down one and positioned his hands at his zipper.
“Take it out,” Thomas barked just above a whisper.”
“What?”
“We want this to look legit.”
Alex smiled, mocking his friend as he unzipped his fly. “Admit it, you just wanna see my junk.”
“Alex, I’ve seen your junk and it’s nothing to write home about. Can we just focus?”
Standing at the urinals, their stream-less manhoods like nervous turtles in sweaters, Alex and Thomas ran down their plan of action for the evening. When everyone began to leave for the night, they would make their way to the 8th floor—It & Data Services. From there, Thomas would dust off and old, decommissioned terminal from the COVID pause rollout to access an internal environment. He’d connect to the forgotten SFTP node— /queue/incoming/fsa. Thomas would start retrieving borrower data from a local NSLDS backup using his read-only key: (svc_archive_pull). It would take him just over an hour to script his batch and parse the 43 million records from compressed segments.
Luckily, Alex was not needed for that part of the plan. He was in no way a tech guru, but what he did have was clerical skills and a desirable ability to be a wallflower—a forgettable, but alluring flower. While Thomas was busy coding and gathering everything on the old server, Alex would use his skills to blend his way down to the fourth floor—The Office of Borrower Services, his soon-be-be old home. It’s where he said goodbye to Patty, the older clerk who had trained Alex, after she took Elon’s “fork in the road offer.” This was before DOGE had succeeded in locking everyone out of the systems. One of the benefits of knowing Patty had been her innate ability to procrastinate. Since she was one of the first employees to leave the DOE, he credentials had never been touched—and this was Alex’s window of opportunity.
(7:16 PM)
Everything was going according to plan. Thomas was upstairs, frantically typing away in IT & Data Services and Alex has successfully weaseled his way down and found Patty’s old laptop. The musketeers had begun sleeping over in the LBJ Building since Elon had gotten his grimy, troll hands on the DOE. His for-hire gooners were midnight dwellers. Most of them slept the day away and spent the night chewing Adderall and wrecking havoc on the American people. For now, Alex was safe. It wouldn’t be until later when his wallflower tactics would be truly put to the test.
Alex used Patty’s log-in and password, “SmellyCat4Life”, to access the MPN Registry Interface. From there, he followed the instructions Thomas had wrote down in Alex’s phone to reply a VPN and begin flagging MPNs as “fulfilled under Treasury Settlement.” It was tedious, but the messaged and hearts that would inevitably flood social media in the morning kept Alex going. His elbow was burning and his stomach churned from skipping dinner, but nothing, not even Elon, would stand in his way—he’d come to far to turn back now.
(8:47 PM)
‘MPN ✅🪞🔄’ Alex sent the text to Thomas who was ready got the next step. His script began generating the HYDRA Payload, an EDE-compliant JSON bath file (the trojan course):
Repayment Status: TP
LoanStatus: ADMIN CLOSED
MPNStatus: SATISFIED
ForgivenessMethod: GOV_SETTLEMENT_TREASURY_ID 1776-Z
Their ETA was now 3.5 hours.
(9:22 PM)
Alex was finished. He tucked Patty;s laptop back in her desk and took a moment to write a note on her desk pad which she’d never see. “DOGE drools and Smelly Cats Rule.”
His wall-flowering had successfully got him back to the 8th floor, but the grime below had begun to awake. Circling around the corner he spotted him, a DOGE wanker walking up the hallway toward IT & Data Services. If he found Thomas, the entire plan was a bust and they most likely would find themselves on one of those unmarked planes escorting them to El Salvador. He had to act fast, think of something to draw the dude’s attention away from Thomas. He remembered, he had another skill.
He gave away his location, walking out into the hallway and casually strolled across the restroom. As he stepped across the tile, he swung his head ever so slightly toward the DOGE dude with a cunning, but generous nod. The dude’s ear perked up, first widening his eyes at seeing someone in the building, then squinting at the perplexing invitation. The sooner took the bait and began walking right into Alex’s trap.
Alex walked up a urinal, unzipping his pants and tugging them down ever so to show more skin. As he hoped, the musketeer slid into the restroom, but said nothing. Instead, he slouched his way to the urinal directly next to Alex. Checkmate.
Alex willed himself to pee, he thought of running water, the Cherrios his mother used to sprinkle in the toilet to potty-train him. Nothing worked. Instead of beating around the bush, Alex went straight into his skill and began stroking his dick. The DOGE dude didn’t bat an eye. He just took out his own flaccid member and stared straight ahead. Alex’s eyes closed and turned his mind to more stimulating thoughts: The way cowboys’ filled a pair of jeans just right, the roundness of a plump and perky set of tits, and... Tat did it. Alex’s cock began to swell as he stroked a little more intense—a little more obviously.
The DOGE dude couched, clearing his throat, a clear sign he was trying to fill the awkward silence in the 24 inches between them. Alex, now fully aroused, thanks to a diverse and inclusive spank-bank, took the liberty of stepping back, just an inch to invite gazing eyes. It worked. The musketeer’s eyes wandering across the wall, down the side of the porcelain tank, and across Alex’s pants to his cock. Alex smirked, flopping his cock with his fist. The basement dweller recoiled his eyes and looked forward again. He’s nervous, Alex thought. Me too. Normally, cursing a goon-headed supremacist would never be on Alex’s agenda. He loathed self-righteous bigotry and thin, loyalist fuckboys, but he needed to swallow his pride. He needed to take one for the team—for borrowers everywhere, for America.
(10:05 PM)
Across the hall, Thomas could feel his finger starting to go numb and his brain beginning to sweat from exhaustion. He encrypted and staged the ~140G HYDRA Payload.
/queue/incoming/fsa/hydra_file.zip
Willing his hands to keep going, the set the cron job to execute at 12:00 AM, aligning exactly with the nightly batch update. The server would think the file was already verified by service ID 004-MOHELA, and their trojan horse would deliver an exuberant roar or justice in a matter of seconds.
Across the hall, Alex was willing his own hands to keep going. Much to his dismay, the Elon worshiping DOGE boy wanted his cock sucked, a mind-numbing and willing sacrifice Alex had made. His knees were throbbing on the hard tile floor as Alex had resorted to jerking the dude’s cock, slobbering on the tip with his long, blue-pilled tongue. His cock was actually impressive. Like most lanky, think dudes, he was gifted with a long and girth shaft. His head leaked precum which mixed with Alex’s saliva as his head circled round on the warm, wet tongue.
Okay, Alex thought. This can end any moment now. Please? He had been “taking one for the team” for closing on twenty minutes now, but Alex didn’t know how much longer Thomas needed. If he got the goon off too fast, he risked them getting caught and Alex’s sexual sacrifice would all have been for nothing—I am not sucking off a filthy fucking fascist just to have this whole thing go to shit.
“Stand up,” the dude moaned, pulling his cock away which leaked a long string of spit-precum to the floor.
Please. Dear God, please. Don’t let him want to fuck me. Alex stood, keeping his luring mask air-tight. “Yeah?”
“Do you think...” The Discord junkie mumbled, a pathetic, beta-male voice stirring with sub-energy. He waddled his way over to one of the bathroom stalls, holding up his pants, his musky dick still hard as a rock. He nodded into the stall. “I want to you hold me down.”
Figured, Alex groaned internally. He’s nothing but a submissive, little bitch. No wonder he’s taking so long to nut. He’s probably been gooning out to Tesla porn so long he no longer can have a normal reaction to sex. “Sure,” Alex nodded with a veiled roll of his eyes.
Inside the stall, Alex kept his eyes on the prize—the student loan prize—and returned to his knees in front of the DOGE dude. The guy reached his arms back and gestured Alex to grab his wrists. Pinning him down on the toilet, Alex retuned to his civic duty, which would not only leave him with TMJ, but an ideological bad taste in his mouth.
“Oh,” the incel moaned. “Yes, please...”
“Fuck this,” Alex garbled as his head lifted off the thick cock. “You got any string or something?”
“What?”
“You want to be dominated, don’t you?” Alex searched the depth of his mind, thinking back to the mine of subreddits for just the right key to trigger the DOGE dong.
“...Yes,” the incel cried. “Make me your faggot bitch! Use me like a fucking pole!”
Christ, Alex winced. What kind of Bate Space, homo-suppressed fuckwad is this? He spotted a bulge in the side pocket of the guy’s cargo pants. Out of it, a long USB-C cord gave Alex his ammunition. He reached for the cord and began tying the dude up, securing him and his non-deserving cock to the toilet. “This what you want?”
“Yes,” the cry moaned. “Tie me down. Force yourself on me! Make Me Great Again!”
The cord securely tight around the incel’s wrists, and woven through the pipe on the toilet, Alex lowered his head back to the now flooding, throbbing cock of the musketeer. He was secure. Alex could just leave. He could just let the stupid shit cry for help and let one of Elon’s shitbags find him with his pants around his ankles—that was enough.
“You like this?” Alex was bobbing his head up and down, giving it his all, slobbering the DOGE dong to the brink of orgasm. “You like my mouth, you pathetic loser?”
“Yes! Oh, God, yes!”
“Huh? You like having your little dick sucked, don’t you?”
“Yes. I do. I really really do!”
“Are you going to cum for me?”
“Yes! Make me cum!”
He could feel the tube on the underside of the dude’s cock starting to expand, his nuts beginning to twitch. This was it—the moment of climax. “No,” Alex stopped abruptly. “You’re not worth it.”
“I’m not, I’m not,” the incel cried out. “I’m nothing. I’m not worthy of your...”
“Shut the fuck up,” Alex stood, towering over the DOGE dumpster. “You pathetic piece of fucking shit. You really think I was going to let you nut in my mouth?”
“Wha.. I...” The guy was beginning to tremble, his arms pulling at the USB-C cord.
“Alex leaned down to say goodbye. “I’m gonna go now,” he smiled. “But... one last thing.” Alex backed up, holding the door open so whomever found the little shit would have a full show. “We couldn’t have done this without you.”
“Wha...” The incel, DOGE fuckboy was now shifting back and forth, the playful goon gone from his face. “What are you talking about?”
“Let’s just say,” Alex grinned, wiping the last of the spit from his face. “On behalf of the 43 million people who will be happy in the morning, I want to say thank you.”
“Wha...” The guy’s eyes lit up with a haunting, enlightened fire of realization and humiliation. “No... I can’t.. this isn’t...”
Alex chuckled as he called out from the bathroom doorway. “Deny, Defend Depose, asshole.”
(10:48PM)
“What took you so long,” Thomas shouted in a hushed, typing rage. “You’ve been gone for hours!”
“Didn’t you get my text?”
“Yeah, but I thought you were on your way back. Where were you?”
Alex smirked, leaning over to check their progress. “Let’s just say, DOGE drools and Smelly Cats rule.”
“The fuck...?”
Alex didn’t have time to explain. He sat down at the terminal and began his last part of the equation. The system automatically updated at midnight. If they missed their window, it would all have been for nothing—illegally altering millions of borrowers’ data, the salty blowjob... all of it.
Alex uploaded his MPN override file.
/registry/mpn/manual_revisions_03-24.xml
He added the audit entry.
Fulfilled: Treasury Consolidated Payment Batch #T1776-Z (Per DOE-FSA Memo 0420-T)
Together, Alex and Thomas synced everything with the NSLDS audit queue, so in the morning, every borrower’s dashboard would reflect the changes as if pushed by servicers.
(11:45 PM)
“Sent,” Alex smiled, proud of himself for having the courage to see things through. “Every news content creator, the ACLU Student Debt Project, and members of the Oversight Committee all just got the ‘official’ memo in their inbox.” He laughed, “Subject: FYI - Treasury Finalized DOE Discharge”
“You’re a badass,” Thomas cackled. “Seriously.”
“You’re the badass. My ass is perfect.”
They both sat in silence, watching the minutes tick closer and closer to the deadline. Thomas broke the silence first. “You know, they are totally going to make a movie about this...”
“Oh,” Alex laughed. “For sure.”
“Who do you want to play you?”
“Ah,” Alex coughed. “I shudder to think.”
“I see you as a young Chris Evans,” Thomas laughed.
“Thanks. With my luck they’d cast Chris Pratt.”
“Ew.”
“Ew.”
(11:59)
In Staging Room 3B, the file was ready. The terminal was waiting, the trojan message flickering on the screen:
[cron schedule: 00:00 - Job HYDRA_final.zip pending execution...]
“You sure about this,” laughed Thomas.
“When they ask what we did, I want to say we gave them their lives back.”
HYDRA fires.
Terminal:
>>Batch File Accepted.
>>NSDLS Update: Processed
>>DMCS Sync: Complete
>> COD Flag: Settlement Finalized.
Walking out of the building, the night was brisk and misty—like fresh dew on a brand new world. Alex’s phone buzzed as the news stories began rolling in their notifications. “That was fast.”
Thomas checked his phone, then smiled. “Think we’ll be remembered as villains or heroes?”
“Depends who’s writing the history books,” Alex chuckled. “But so long as I get to see Chris Evans do what I did tonight... we won.”