The General walked into the board room with his usual display of gusto, the red folder stamped with TOP SECRET across it clamped under is arm.
"General, you're late." said a suit-clad gentleman at the end of the table.
"Yes, terribly sorry about that but let's not let recriminations further delay us." He waved to the back of the room where Lieutenant Scott Renauld was waiting. "Lieutenant, the projector please."
The lights dimmed and the projector spluttered to life. On the wall was displayed the usual spiel about top secret material and treason. The General waited a few moments and pressed the button to move onto the next slide.
"At approximately 7:51 A.M. the event, which we are calling the Asheyna Incident for reasons that will become apparent, destroyed the entirety of Heathrow airport and deafened every living thing within a five mile radius. Initial reports concluded that the event was not a terrorist attack, nor was it the result of any known weaponry system currently in use by any government or independent military contractor."
Click. A slide with a picture of two women and a bald man slide into view.
"As you can see from this screenshot taken from one of the Heathrow surveillance cameras, this woman here," The General said, taping the screen with his pointer. "seems to have been the epicenter of the event. Our investigations have determined the following. She is a Canadian national, approximately twenty-five years of age, first name Rachelle. Further research has revealed she goes by the name of Asheyna in various online communities. The following are some transcripts of conversations we've found she has engaged in with British citizens, thanks to the digital information retention laws."
Everyone murmured their approval and patted each other on the back.
Click. A chat log slid into place. Click. Another one. Click. Click. Click.
"You'll see here that there is a common theme. It's seems that this 'Asheyna' is somewhat of an anglophile. In fact, some might say she was the definitive anglophile. She was obsessed beyond any measure of normal human behaviour, as the kids are saying nowadays, she was a 'fangirl'. Our scientists, taking this into account and combined with the information taken from the surveillance footage have uncovered a starling revelation."
The people in the board room all leaned forward while the General paused for dramatic effect. He had a B in GCSE Drama you see.
"It appears Asheyna was having what are scientists are calling a 'Britgasm'."
There was a moment of silence while the General waited smugly for the fact to sink in.
The General sighed. Civilians, idiots the lots of them.
"A 'Britgasm', a portmanteux of British and Org-"
"Yes, yes, I gathered that and I'm sure someone on your staff feels very clever right now but what the hell does this have to do with the event? Who is responsible? We need answers, not... not..." The man stood up, spluttering with rage spitting out the last word like foul tasting toffee. "not a portman-bloody--teux!"
The General cleared his throat and shuffled awkwardly from one foot to the other. He was sure he could hear Lieutenant Renauld smirking from behind the projector.
"If you'll let me finish. Our scientists think that this 'britgasm' was the event. That somehow the sheer excitement and joy of being in direct contact with the object of her obsession setup some kind of critical psychic overload leading, inevitably, the Incident."
"This is ridiculous! I'm not staying to listen to any more of this nonsense! Guards, escort the General out of here, he's obviously gone insane!"
"Wait a moment, we have further evidence to support this. The scientists analysed the sonic burst and I think you'll all be surprised by what they found. Play the tape, Lieutenant."
"Umm, sir, we use MP3s now."
"Whatever, just play it."
A loud, high pitch noise rung out through the board room.
"That was the original noise, attenuated to avoid ear damage. Now lets listen to it again at a fraction of the speed and amplitude." He nodded to Lieutenant Renauld who set the next track playing on iTunes.
"My god!" the angry man said and he sunk to his seat, a cold sweat on his face. "You're right, you're goddamn right."
Another board member spoke up. "General what is this? It sounds just like my daughter!?"
The General grinned slyly. "Oh, not just your daughter, everyone's daughters."
The General walked around the table and shut off the projector. The sound stopped playing and he lights faded back to full illumination. He leaned forward, his palms flat on the board room table and looked each shocked member in the face.
"The sound you just heard gentlemen," He paused again, putting his GCSE Drama once again to full use, "was a 'squee'."