If the MBTI types were spies ordered ‘off-grid’ how would they react?
How would each MBTI type act if they were compromised as a spy and told to go off-grid? (Disclaimer: this is just for fun and not to be taken as official representations of MBTI.)
ENTJ: Create a group chat to excitedly let all their friends know they’ll be busy for a bit and life is awesome. Then promptly remove themself from the chat and delete their account. Sling the color-coded backpack reserved for off-grid activities on their back, leave traces of an annoying nemesis spread on the kitchen counter, then stride out the front door and drive off at top speed. Circles back around to a nearby phone tower, climb halfway up and settle down with a long-range rifle to see who comes to their house before they decide if and when to shoot the explosives piled up on the roof.
INTJ: throws their entire personal possessions into the trunk of their beat-up little car without bothering to know where anything is except their laptop and their gun. Chooses which one of their two dozen safe spaces to go to after an hour of obsessive comparing and re-comparing, downing five bowlfuls of Rice Krispies and milk because if they take it with them it will spoil but they don’t want to waste it either. Wipes down tables and counters, sprays house with alcohol cleaning solvent to erase DNA, straps on their assault rifle and two katanas, jumps into their car and speeds off down the most complex of their mapped out escape routes. Realizes only once they reach their safe house that they’re still in their pajamas.
ENTP: Puts out a box of crackers, opens a can of chicken salad, and settles on their kitchen counter with a machine gun and a smile to wait and see what poor unfortunate was tasked with hunting him down.
INTP: Gives a very small smile and sheaths the knife they were sharpening. Slings a rifle over their shoulder, slips a gun on each hip, and checks to make sure all clips are full. Slips all three of his computers in a backpack and strides from the house. At the mailbox, they twist off the flag and press a slow fuse. Whistling for their dog, they stride down the road toward one of their two dozen safe havens full of food and ammo. They’re halfway down the street when the house blows up. They don’t look back.
ENFJ: Has already arranged for their most trusted friends to come and take care of the house, scrubbing it and fumigating it of all traces of DNA. Has collected a bag of basic disguise materials and a smaller bag of granola and a thermos and water filter. Burns their few important papers, tosses their phone in the dumpster, locks the house, leaves the key under the rock by the door, and walks off into the unknown with their bag over their shoulder looking for an old contact they made in shadier places and darker times, who will help them with their emerging plan.
INFJ: Carefully burns all sensitive documents linking them with their past life, except for a few handwritten letters from their sweetheart which they fold into their wallet. They nod goodbye to their house and truck and stride out the door with the backpack that they use on weekly hiking trips. They’re pretty sure it’s fully stocked. They stop at a gas station to get some extra food before striking into the hills. They pay. And leave, forgetting their wallet on the counter.
ENFP: Shrugs on favorite red hoodie and tasseled hat. Stuffs a few chocolate bars in their pockets and holsters a shiny revolver on each hip. Stuffs any sensitive papers under their mattress and shoves the rest, along with a few family tokens, into their backpack. Fills what space is left with food and walks out the front door, kicking it shut behind them. Drops a handful of letters to there two dozen good friends in the mailbox then strikes for the mountains. They’re not sure where they are going, but they figure they can get to the top of any mountain and figure it out from there. They are an hour and a half into their trip when they realize they forgot something. They have no water.
INFP: Has only a very vague idea of what would be required because they weren’t paying attention in that part of their training, so throws away all personal belongings except what they could convert to cash without too much suspicion and takes off for the hills with a backpack and their warmest set of clothes.
ESTJ: Has probably prepared for this years ago with all their crucial belongings/papers packed in separate envelopes and backed up on one secure thumb-drive to be hidden in two separate fire safes, one buried in the woods and the other lowered by a cable into the bottom of a lake. Sets contingency plan in action in half an hour, turns the lights off, locks the house, and blends into the rest of humanity in a hoodie and jeans.
ISTJ: Sits down and writes up a comprehensive list of all the agency’s failings and why they were compromised in the first place. Packs that one book on leadership they were reading, along with assorted healthy snacks and the encoded files of all their enemies into a computer bag. Locks the house carefully and scouts the perimeter to ensure it’s still clear. Drops off the list of failings, along with their letter of resignation, at an agency safebox and disappears into the wilderness. They are never seen again.
ESTP: Grabs some random food items out of the fridge, stuffs them in a backpack with all their outdoor gear, sticks their sensitive papers down the disposal, picks up their favorite jacket on the way out, and goes straight to the spot where they rigged up a long elaborate train of traps and triggers to flood the house with poisonous gas and touch it off with a spark in the middle of the kitchen floor. Runs off gleefully for the nearest mountains.
ISTP: slips on coat and sheaths several daggers. Holsters a pair of guns. Tugs out a small packet of personal papers from beneath a creaky floorboard in the living room. Tosses them in the fire and leans against the mantel, eating an apple as he watches them burn. Once they’re ashes, he swings a sniper rifle on his shoulder and strides from the house. At the peak of the nearest hill he kicks aside a few stones and taps a pressure plate. The house behind him explodes. He tosses the apple core over his shoulder and continues into the forest without looking back.
ESFJ: Is so stressed they go into overdrive and bake muffins for the local nursing home to calm down. While muffins are baking they tear their whole house apart (even though they’ve had everything they need to get rid of stashed in their desk for years) just to make sure they haven’t forgotten anything. Almost burns the muffins because they found an old photo album that made them cry. Stashes the desk full of things to destroy in the back of their car, drives the muffins to the nursing home, forgot to feed the cat— races back home only to find their house surrounded. Drives to the nearest cliff, accelerates the car and rolls out just as it takes the desk full of sensitive materials over the edge. Walks off to find a diner where they can relax and actually make a plan from here.
ISFJ: Sits down for five minutes in silence then gets up and cooks a batch of cookies to relax. Goes and packs his toothbrush, a change of clothes, and a some spices. Takes the cookies out of the oven and leaves them for whoever is coming after him. Sweeps the entrance on the way out and carefully locks the door but leaves the key in the lock. Leaves while munching a cookie. Is halfway down the road when he realizes he left the oven on. Bolts back, slips through a window, turns it off, snags the package of sensitive documents he forgot on the counter, and leaves the way he came with another cookie as sirens sound in the distance. Goes to a library to hide the papers and make a plan.
ESFP: Piles all their documents in the center of the kitchen, as well as a few pillows they always hated, an ugly sweater, and a can of cooking spray. Douses it all with gasoline, sets it on fire, and pulls out a bag of marshmallows and some roasting sticks they saved just for this. Dodges the cooking spray can as it explodes, waits for the fire alarms to go off, then shoots them. Wipes sticky fingers on their ironman sweatshirt, they stride out the door, swing duffel-bag of cash onto their shoulder. Goes to a fancy hotel to wait things out.
ISFP: Has taken up a second residence in the back room of a small art school in case of just such emergencies. Quietly moves a few essential belongings to their second residence and emails the grouchy bachelor who’s been wanting to buy their house for decades telling them they can have it for nothing as long as they agree to do the moving out and cleaning up and throwing away. Leaves a note for their mom and hitches a ride on the next car out of town.
What is your type? What would you do if you were a spy with a compromised cover?
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