Post by kingrat on Apr 4, 2011 13:16:23 GMT -5
Episode 11 - The Admiral Discovers Woodland
"Swabbie? Who're you callin' Swabbie?" screamed The Admiral in his harshest command voice, "you'll eat them words you tin-horned arm-chair commando. We had girly Marines in the old WANKER squadron tougher 'n you."
Daggers flew from his eyes and steam rose from his ears as The Admiral tried in vain to contain his outrage at El Jefe's insult. While the two men enjoyed an almost lifelong friendship and camaraderie, they held positions of ultimate authority within their respective organizations, and were both unaccustomed to being publicly criticized by anyone. It appeared to Kingrat that the heated exchange of words might lead to something more physical, and he knew his friendship with both men was hanging in the balance. He also knew that the personalities of both men would require that they defend their respective egos, even at the expense of doing something stupid.
With the peace and tranquility of the free world at stake, Kingrat knew that a dramatic diversion was necessary to break the tension of the moment between his two old friends and that he needed to act quickly. Without hesitation, Kingrat turned his back to the warriors and snatched the quick disconnect on the suspenders holding up his 511 dungarees. As the dungarees fell to the floor, pent-up gasses from the soiled skivvies escaped into the wardroom atmosphere. To add further noxious effect, Kingrat gracefully bent his torso forward at the waist, aiming the chosen weapon carefully toward to two combatants. With mounds of flesh properly parted and targets accurately aligned, Kingrat let go with a thunderous Triple Flutterblast. The noise was unmistakable, the odor indescribable, and the effect on The Admiral and El Jefe was absolutely predictable. Shock and awe saved the day.
The two warriors immediately bolted for the door of the pink trailer with the speed and grace of an attacking mongoose. Both arrived at the portal simultaneously and became tightly wedged into the opening as each struggled to be the first to reach the life-giving fresh air outside. As they struggled for freedom, the two men at once realized what was happening and began to laugh. Their convulsions finally broke the logjam and permitted them to tumble out onto the lawn and into the bright morning sunshine.
By the time Kingrat appeared at the doorway a few minutes later, The Admiral and El Jefe were engaged in a boisterously friendly conversation about “the old days” when the Kaiser tried to gas them in the trenches.
Between fits of laughter, The Admiral exclaimed; “That phosgene gas the Kaiser threw at us on the slopes of Mt. Fuji was pure perfume compared to the stuff Kingrat carries around with him.”
Immune to the ill effects of his “weapon of mass destruction”, Kingrat congratulated himself on the outcome of his battle tactic and called on the radio for a team of HAZMAT clean-up specialists to fumigate the pink trailer and bury his damaged dungarees and skivvies.
Later in the day, The Admiral, El Jefe, and Kingrat once again assembled in the wardroom for some lunch and further conversation. As each sipped on his favorite beverage, The Admiral summoned his personal steward to take orders for the food. El Jefe always looked forward to these meals because The Admiral’s food synthesizer was the only one he knew of that could get the difficult Whitefish Salad recipe just right, and Kingrat looked forward to his first mouthful of smoked octopus.
“Ok, boys,” began The Admiral, “I’ll tell you something about the native flora and fauna here at Woodland. It’s a long story, so you’ll have to bear with me, and it’s hyper-secret but I trust you two implicitly. Shortly after the Polygon discontinued that stupid WANKER project, we got a call about some mysterious happenings on the land hereabouts where the Woodland Facility is now located. I took a squad of Marines and headed down here to find out what was going on.”
Those were the days shortly after the war with the Kaiser when the Air Farce had lost a few of their experimental weather balloons out in the desert and some of the local citizens claimed they had been abducted by aliens in space ships. The Air Farce actually planted those stories, and fueled the media frenzy surrounding the alien abductions, to hide the fact that we were in a frantic race with the Canadians to develop the next generation of stealth weather balloons. The Polygon brass knew that the Navy’s technologic prestige was at stake and absolutely could not allow the canuks to get the edge in the weather race. The weather balloon project was where The Admiral was hiding his hot sauce budget from the GAO, and loss of this particular accounting enigma would wreak havoc with his galley supplies.
When the Marines arrived near Woodland they found the rumors of mysterious activity to be not only true, but understated. The local rednecks claimed there was nothing unusual around but the Marines learned later that this was only a lie to cover up their extreme fear of what they had seen and heard. No self-respecting rural redneck would admit to being afraid of a few beavers, turtles, and snakes but the critters in these parts just weren’t natural. A few of their fathers had come home from the big war with the Kaiser and told the story of the piece of the Bermuda Triangle that had broken off from Alabama and settled here during the 1907 war games. These stories, coupled with the strange sights, sounds, and odors emanating from the area kept the local folks from going anywhere close to the area.
Is the Woodland swamp haunted? Is Sasquatch the Mayor ? What color are Zombie beavers? Why is a Croc-a-Gator so mean? Who the hell is Iakoff
BezBrukov? Learn the answers to these and other important questions in the next episode of The Armadillo Annihilator.
"Swabbie? Who're you callin' Swabbie?" screamed The Admiral in his harshest command voice, "you'll eat them words you tin-horned arm-chair commando. We had girly Marines in the old WANKER squadron tougher 'n you."
Daggers flew from his eyes and steam rose from his ears as The Admiral tried in vain to contain his outrage at El Jefe's insult. While the two men enjoyed an almost lifelong friendship and camaraderie, they held positions of ultimate authority within their respective organizations, and were both unaccustomed to being publicly criticized by anyone. It appeared to Kingrat that the heated exchange of words might lead to something more physical, and he knew his friendship with both men was hanging in the balance. He also knew that the personalities of both men would require that they defend their respective egos, even at the expense of doing something stupid.
With the peace and tranquility of the free world at stake, Kingrat knew that a dramatic diversion was necessary to break the tension of the moment between his two old friends and that he needed to act quickly. Without hesitation, Kingrat turned his back to the warriors and snatched the quick disconnect on the suspenders holding up his 511 dungarees. As the dungarees fell to the floor, pent-up gasses from the soiled skivvies escaped into the wardroom atmosphere. To add further noxious effect, Kingrat gracefully bent his torso forward at the waist, aiming the chosen weapon carefully toward to two combatants. With mounds of flesh properly parted and targets accurately aligned, Kingrat let go with a thunderous Triple Flutterblast. The noise was unmistakable, the odor indescribable, and the effect on The Admiral and El Jefe was absolutely predictable. Shock and awe saved the day.
The two warriors immediately bolted for the door of the pink trailer with the speed and grace of an attacking mongoose. Both arrived at the portal simultaneously and became tightly wedged into the opening as each struggled to be the first to reach the life-giving fresh air outside. As they struggled for freedom, the two men at once realized what was happening and began to laugh. Their convulsions finally broke the logjam and permitted them to tumble out onto the lawn and into the bright morning sunshine.
By the time Kingrat appeared at the doorway a few minutes later, The Admiral and El Jefe were engaged in a boisterously friendly conversation about “the old days” when the Kaiser tried to gas them in the trenches.
Between fits of laughter, The Admiral exclaimed; “That phosgene gas the Kaiser threw at us on the slopes of Mt. Fuji was pure perfume compared to the stuff Kingrat carries around with him.”
Immune to the ill effects of his “weapon of mass destruction”, Kingrat congratulated himself on the outcome of his battle tactic and called on the radio for a team of HAZMAT clean-up specialists to fumigate the pink trailer and bury his damaged dungarees and skivvies.
Later in the day, The Admiral, El Jefe, and Kingrat once again assembled in the wardroom for some lunch and further conversation. As each sipped on his favorite beverage, The Admiral summoned his personal steward to take orders for the food. El Jefe always looked forward to these meals because The Admiral’s food synthesizer was the only one he knew of that could get the difficult Whitefish Salad recipe just right, and Kingrat looked forward to his first mouthful of smoked octopus.
“Ok, boys,” began The Admiral, “I’ll tell you something about the native flora and fauna here at Woodland. It’s a long story, so you’ll have to bear with me, and it’s hyper-secret but I trust you two implicitly. Shortly after the Polygon discontinued that stupid WANKER project, we got a call about some mysterious happenings on the land hereabouts where the Woodland Facility is now located. I took a squad of Marines and headed down here to find out what was going on.”
Those were the days shortly after the war with the Kaiser when the Air Farce had lost a few of their experimental weather balloons out in the desert and some of the local citizens claimed they had been abducted by aliens in space ships. The Air Farce actually planted those stories, and fueled the media frenzy surrounding the alien abductions, to hide the fact that we were in a frantic race with the Canadians to develop the next generation of stealth weather balloons. The Polygon brass knew that the Navy’s technologic prestige was at stake and absolutely could not allow the canuks to get the edge in the weather race. The weather balloon project was where The Admiral was hiding his hot sauce budget from the GAO, and loss of this particular accounting enigma would wreak havoc with his galley supplies.
When the Marines arrived near Woodland they found the rumors of mysterious activity to be not only true, but understated. The local rednecks claimed there was nothing unusual around but the Marines learned later that this was only a lie to cover up their extreme fear of what they had seen and heard. No self-respecting rural redneck would admit to being afraid of a few beavers, turtles, and snakes but the critters in these parts just weren’t natural. A few of their fathers had come home from the big war with the Kaiser and told the story of the piece of the Bermuda Triangle that had broken off from Alabama and settled here during the 1907 war games. These stories, coupled with the strange sights, sounds, and odors emanating from the area kept the local folks from going anywhere close to the area.
Is the Woodland swamp haunted? Is Sasquatch the Mayor ? What color are Zombie beavers? Why is a Croc-a-Gator so mean? Who the hell is Iakoff
BezBrukov? Learn the answers to these and other important questions in the next episode of The Armadillo Annihilator.