The Hunting Trip by III William E. Butterworth Page A

First Sergeant/Special Agent Dumbrowski stopped at his table and inquired, “Where is your accomplice in absolutely disgusting public behavior to the detriment of good military order and discipline, Administrator Williams?”
    â€œI beg your pardon?”
    â€œSpecifically, where is Administrator Rutherford?”
    â€œI don’t know specifically where he is, First Sergeant, but he left a note for me, written in soap, on our communal bathroom mirror saying there would be no ROTPIP for me today as he would be busy.”
    â€œBusy doing what?”
    â€œHe didn’t say, First Sergeant, but I would hazard the guess that he is about the Lord’s work.”
    â€œI would hazard the guess that the EXPLETIVE DELETED!! bribed my EXPLETIVE DELETED!! company clerk to keep him abreast of any developments in my office that might affect him, and that my EXPLETIVE DELETED!! company clerk tipped him to the fact that Supervisory Special Agent O’Reilly is in possession of a photograph of you in
Berlin am Nacht
—which means
Berlin at Night
—magazine, said photograph showing you in your EXPLETIVE DELETED!! birthday suit fondling the bosom of a naked blonde while the both of you are on the back of a EXPLETIVE DELETED!! horse.”
    Phil’s stomach suddenly ached as it had the morning after the incident First Sergeant Dumbrowski was apparently describing, although since then absolutely nothing stronger than Listerine mouthwash had passed his lips.
    â€œAnd I would hazard the further guess that once he was so tipped, he found something to do that would keep him from having to discuss what the caption on the aforementioned photograph describes as ‘Horny Horseplay in the Pferd und Frauen,’” Dumbrowski went on. “That guess ring any bells, Lone Ranger?”
    â€œI really don’t know where he is, First Sergeant.”
    â€œThen you will have to face Supervisory Special Agent O’Reilly on your lonesome, Administrator Williams, which you will do now. And may God have mercy on your soul.”
    â€œYes, First Sergeant.”
    â€”
    â€œIf I had my druthers, Administrator Williams,” Supervisory Special Agent William “Don’t Call Me Bill” O’Reilly began a few minutes later, “I would immediately ship you, you miserable Protestant sexual deviate EXPLETIVE DELETED!! , on the next plane to Fort Benning, Georgia—after I busted your miserable EXPLETIVE DELETED!! toRecruit, of course—in the perhaps wishful-thinking hope that the rigorous training and disciplinary measures available at the U.S. School of Infantry Excellence might turn you into a soldier.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œDon’t interrupt me while I’m chewing your EXPLETIVE DELETED!! , Williams!”
    â€œYes, sir. I mean, no, sir.”
    â€œUnfortunately, there is a protocol in place here in the Thirty-third which I must follow. This misguided document requires that when drastic disciplinary action is proposed for a miserable EXPLETIVE DELETED!! such as yourself, it must be reviewed—a last court of appeal, so to speak—by Supervisory Special Agent Jonathan Fitzwater Caldwell the Third.
    â€œDon’t get your hopes up, you oversexed underage deviate, that when he is apprised of your outrageous behavior, Supervisory Special Agent Caldwell . . . Did I mention he is a lieutenant of cavalry, pay grade O-5?”
    â€œNo, sir. You didn’t mention that.”
    â€œWhere was I? Oh. Don’t get your hopes up that Colonel Caldwell will temper the action I am proposing with mercy. He is deeply offended by sexual misbehavior of any kind, and they don’t call him ‘The Wrath of God’ for nothing.
    â€œSo, what’s going to happen now is that you will be taken to Supervisory Special Agent Caldwell the Third’s office for the
pro forma
review I have mentioned, following which you will be returned here to pack your