making everybody else look bad to the sarge?”
“Hey, easy there, Pingpong,” said Sharky, patting the big recruit on the shoulder. “It ain’t come to stompin‘, yet. We’re just havin’ a friendly talk with good ol‘ Thumper here, lettin’ him know how all his buddies in the squad feel about stuff.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Pingpong, scratching the thick fur atop his head. “Well, let me know when it’s time for stompin, OK?”
“Sure,” said Sharky, with a nod.
“I can’t believe you guys are threatening me,” said Thumper, indignation all over his face. “Just because I want to do my best…”
“Yeah, yeah, doin‘ your best is triff,” said Sharky. “But do you hafta do it when it makes all your buddies look bad? If you’d just save it for when there’s a real enemy…”
“We got a real enemy,” said another recruit-Spider, this time. “It’s all the farkin‘ sergeants…”
“Damn straight!” said several of the recruits in chorus.
“No, no, no,” said Thumper, holding up his forepaws. “Sure, the sergeants are tough on us, but that’s because we have to be tough when the death rays start flashing. Really, guys, it’s all for our own good…”
“Ain’t no damn death rays flashin‘,” said Pingpong.
“There ain’t been a farkin‘ war since my granddaddy was in the Regular farkin’ Army, forty years ago. Who we gonna fight, anyhow?”
“There was a civil war someplace out in the New Baltimore sector, wasn’t there?” said Spider. “The Legion was sent in to settle that one…”
“That was on Landoor,” said Sharky, dripping scorn. “And that wasn’t any real war-just a bunch of backward colonials gettin‘ excited. Only real action was when some Legion officer shot up the peace conference. Hope he got him a couple sergeants…”
“Shhh-Pitbull” came a hoarse whisper, but it was too late.
“YOU GOT YOU A SERGEANT NOW, YOU STUPID FARKIN‘ CLOWNS!” roared the drill sergeant, throwing open the door to the recruits’ bunkroom. The overhead light came on abruptly, catching the circle of recruits standing around Thumper’s bunk like greeblers around a sweetbush. They all snapped to attention as the sergeant stomped over to the group. “WHAT THE FARK’S GOIN’ ON HERE, AS IF I DIDN’T KNOW?” he bellowed.
“We was just telling old Legion stories, is all, sarge,” said Sharky, stepping to the front of the group. “Tryin‘ to build up the squad’s morale, y’know?”
“YEAH, HUH? LIKE YOUR MOTHER BUILDS UP THE ARMY’S MORALE,” said Sergeant Pitbull. “YOU FARKERS SHOULDA GOT YOURSELF SOME SLEEP BEFORE NOW, BECAUSE I WAS GONNA COME GIVE YOU A FRIENDLY WARNING, LIKE. JUST A LITTLE BIT OF ADVANCE NOTICE OF THE SURPRISE INSPECTION BY THE BIG BRASS.”
“Surprise inspection?” said several of the recruits in near unison.
“THAT’S RIGHT, YOU GOT WAX IN YOUR EARS?” explained Pitbull. “GENERAL
BLITZKRIEG SET DOWN ON BASE JUST AFTER DARK, AND HE’S GONNA COME
INSPECT BARRACKS AT OH-EIGHTHUNDRED HOURS TOMORROW FARKIN‘
MORNING. MAKE THAT THIS MORNING.”
“Oh-eight-hundred?” groaned the recruits. The clock on the wall showed just a bit shy of oh-four-hundred.
“YOU GOT IT RIGHT THE FIRST TIME,” said Pitbull. “NOW, YOU’RE JUST LUCKY YOU
GOT A SERGEANT THAT REALLY CARES FOR YOUR SORRY ASSES, SO I GIVE YOU
SOME ADVANCE WARNING SO YOU DON’T ALL GET REAMED OUT BY THE GENERAL.
YOU THINK I’M A HARD-ASS, YOU AIN’T SEEN NOTHIN‘. BLITZKRIEG EATS RECRUITS
FOR TAPAS WITH HIS AFTERNOON SHERRY. YOU GOT FOUR HOURS TO MAKE THIS
FARKIN’ PIGHOLE LOOK LIKE A LEGION BASE. BLITZKRIEG GIVES ANY ONE OF YOU
PSEUOOSOPHONTS EVEN ONE DEMERIT, YOU’LL GET IT FROM ME TEN
TIMES-EXCEPT I DON’T GIVE DEMERITS, I GIVE PUNISHMENT. YOU GOT THAT, YOU
CLOWNS?”
“Got it, Sarge,” said the recruits.
“THEN GET YOUR ASSES BUSY,” Pitbull shouted.
“AND BE QUIET ABOUT IT. I’M GONNAGET SOME FARKIN‘ SLEEP!”
“I dunno, man,
“Hey, easy there, Pingpong,” said Sharky, patting the big recruit on the shoulder. “It ain’t come to stompin‘, yet. We’re just havin’ a friendly talk with good ol‘ Thumper here, lettin’ him know how all his buddies in the squad feel about stuff.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Pingpong, scratching the thick fur atop his head. “Well, let me know when it’s time for stompin, OK?”
“Sure,” said Sharky, with a nod.
“I can’t believe you guys are threatening me,” said Thumper, indignation all over his face. “Just because I want to do my best…”
“Yeah, yeah, doin‘ your best is triff,” said Sharky. “But do you hafta do it when it makes all your buddies look bad? If you’d just save it for when there’s a real enemy…”
“We got a real enemy,” said another recruit-Spider, this time. “It’s all the farkin‘ sergeants…”
“Damn straight!” said several of the recruits in chorus.
“No, no, no,” said Thumper, holding up his forepaws. “Sure, the sergeants are tough on us, but that’s because we have to be tough when the death rays start flashing. Really, guys, it’s all for our own good…”
“Ain’t no damn death rays flashin‘,” said Pingpong.
“There ain’t been a farkin‘ war since my granddaddy was in the Regular farkin’ Army, forty years ago. Who we gonna fight, anyhow?”
“There was a civil war someplace out in the New Baltimore sector, wasn’t there?” said Spider. “The Legion was sent in to settle that one…”
“That was on Landoor,” said Sharky, dripping scorn. “And that wasn’t any real war-just a bunch of backward colonials gettin‘ excited. Only real action was when some Legion officer shot up the peace conference. Hope he got him a couple sergeants…”
“Shhh-Pitbull” came a hoarse whisper, but it was too late.
“YOU GOT YOU A SERGEANT NOW, YOU STUPID FARKIN‘ CLOWNS!” roared the drill sergeant, throwing open the door to the recruits’ bunkroom. The overhead light came on abruptly, catching the circle of recruits standing around Thumper’s bunk like greeblers around a sweetbush. They all snapped to attention as the sergeant stomped over to the group. “WHAT THE FARK’S GOIN’ ON HERE, AS IF I DIDN’T KNOW?” he bellowed.
“We was just telling old Legion stories, is all, sarge,” said Sharky, stepping to the front of the group. “Tryin‘ to build up the squad’s morale, y’know?”
“YEAH, HUH? LIKE YOUR MOTHER BUILDS UP THE ARMY’S MORALE,” said Sergeant Pitbull. “YOU FARKERS SHOULDA GOT YOURSELF SOME SLEEP BEFORE NOW, BECAUSE I WAS GONNA COME GIVE YOU A FRIENDLY WARNING, LIKE. JUST A LITTLE BIT OF ADVANCE NOTICE OF THE SURPRISE INSPECTION BY THE BIG BRASS.”
“Surprise inspection?” said several of the recruits in near unison.
“THAT’S RIGHT, YOU GOT WAX IN YOUR EARS?” explained Pitbull. “GENERAL
BLITZKRIEG SET DOWN ON BASE JUST AFTER DARK, AND HE’S GONNA COME
INSPECT BARRACKS AT OH-EIGHTHUNDRED HOURS TOMORROW FARKIN‘
MORNING. MAKE THAT THIS MORNING.”
“Oh-eight-hundred?” groaned the recruits. The clock on the wall showed just a bit shy of oh-four-hundred.
“YOU GOT IT RIGHT THE FIRST TIME,” said Pitbull. “NOW, YOU’RE JUST LUCKY YOU
GOT A SERGEANT THAT REALLY CARES FOR YOUR SORRY ASSES, SO I GIVE YOU
SOME ADVANCE WARNING SO YOU DON’T ALL GET REAMED OUT BY THE GENERAL.
YOU THINK I’M A HARD-ASS, YOU AIN’T SEEN NOTHIN‘. BLITZKRIEG EATS RECRUITS
FOR TAPAS WITH HIS AFTERNOON SHERRY. YOU GOT FOUR HOURS TO MAKE THIS
FARKIN’ PIGHOLE LOOK LIKE A LEGION BASE. BLITZKRIEG GIVES ANY ONE OF YOU
PSEUOOSOPHONTS EVEN ONE DEMERIT, YOU’LL GET IT FROM ME TEN
TIMES-EXCEPT I DON’T GIVE DEMERITS, I GIVE PUNISHMENT. YOU GOT THAT, YOU
CLOWNS?”
“Got it, Sarge,” said the recruits.
“THEN GET YOUR ASSES BUSY,” Pitbull shouted.
“AND BE QUIET ABOUT IT. I’M GONNAGET SOME FARKIN‘ SLEEP!”
“I dunno, man,
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