The Bureau of Making It Happen’s headquarters was in a large warehouse at the end of an infrequently traveled street.
There was a reason for the isolation.
Most people, if they found out about the Bureau’s work, would react with fear, or even anger.
And rightly so.
The Bureau was tasked with, as was indicated by the name, making things happen. Anything that was written down, to be precise.
Their job was to turn fiction into non-fiction.
The Bureau was founded in deepest secrecy in 1942. Their mission was simple. The Allies were looking for ways to win the war, and felt that the ability to conquer with words would be an expedient means to that end.
Unfortunately, years of less-than-competent management and vague direction after the conflict turned a relatively straightforward focus into something altogether more powerful, and scattered.
The scientists, working without constraint, exceeded all logical limits, until everything had to be addressed.
A child’s Christmas wish, scrawled on a letter to Santa, got as much attention as a fan-fiction internet blog. Every threatening text message was intercepted and sent to the central database for further action.
Luckily, for almost everyone, by 2013, the backlog of tasks was approaching a one-hundred-and-seventy year waitlist.