It’s Tuesday, January 12, 2010 that means:
We return to The Destructor Chronicles.
Amn Destructor collected comic books. His collection was extensive, including every issue of Spider Man to date, along with every issue in which Spider Man appeared or was even mentioned. It was his only vice.
In order to safely transport his newest acquisitions to and from the missile field, Amn Destructor went to the BX and bought a stylish, new briefcase. As luck would have it, it was identical to the one our lieutenant had recently bought.
During our next tour, our lieutenant worked feverishly on a presentation he was to give to the senior command staff on our next recovery day. By the end of the tour, he had driven everyone nuts about it. But, he had created a wonderful briefing package, complete with handouts and hand-drawn (this being before we got computers and Power Point destroyed our ability to effectively communicate) overhead slides. The night before we recovered from the field, the lieutenant retired early to his room, leaving instructions to awaken him at 0500 so he could make his 0900 briefing time.
As you’ve no doubt guessed by now, the lieutenant, in his haste to depart, grabbed Amn Destructor’s briefcase instead of his own. So it was that he (in full view of four squadron commanders, four operations officers, a lieutenant colonel and a Colonel) opened the briefcase, only to find it full of comic books. He slammed it shut, gathering curious looks from those assembled. Not knowing that his new briefcase was identical to Amn Destructor’s, he assumes that he has been sabotaged.
To his credit, the lieutenant got through the 20-minute briefing, on pure memory, but was well and truly steamed at our apparent betrayal. So it was that we were met at the main gate by the lieutenant, our flight chief, our ops officer and a pair of law enforcement troops. We were made to park in the visitor center lot and unload our gear to be searched for the lieutenant’s missing briefing materials. Once everything is unloaded, the lieutenant espies Amn Destructor’s briefcase.
Now, we had no idea of what was transpiring, so it was with no small sense of trepidation we watched as our lieutenant became suddenly stiff as a board while the color drained from his face. He stood there for a moment, then started quivering. We all exchanged nervous glances while waiting for him to either achieve critical mass or fall over backward. Upon regaining his ability to speak, he screams “Who the hell’s briefcase is that?” Amn Destructor says it’s his. Still not knowing what the hell is going on we, in unison take a few steps so as to distance ourselves from Amn Destructor.
The lieutenant grabs up the briefcase, opens it and finds his briefing materials. Time stood still while the lieutenant stares into the briefcase. We wait for what seems like an eternity. The lieutenant realizes now what’s happened and slams the lid shut. He then carefully latches it, sets it down, takes two steps back and delivers a powerful kick, sending the briefcase flying across the parking lot. He then starts for Amn Destructor in a way that can only be described as homicidal.
Fortunately, our flight chief perceives the lieutenant’s hostile intent and subdues him with a bear hug. He then shouts for us to load up and get out, which we do with considerable urgency. Amn Destructor wants to retrieve what he thinks is his briefcase, only to be ordered to leave it there and get the hell out of Dodge.
We make it to our squadron building and are met by our executive officer who tells us to unload, turn in and debrief with all possible haste. With him are a pair of orderly room troops who will see to turning in our vehicle. We are hustled through the armory in record time and are literally shoved through the debriefing line and then out the door to the parking lot. Our exec tells us to discuss today’s events to no one and that all will be made clear as soon as possible. We leave, knowing only that our lieutenant, who was normally pretty cool, had gone quite mad.
Later that day, we were recalled and briefed on the details surrounding the day’s most curious events. It was decided that it would be best if Amn Destructor (reunited with HIS briefcase) avoided the lieutenant for a while, so he was assigned CQ duties for the next couple of tours. Likewise, our lieutenant signed out on leave for the next tour and by the time he returned, could see (albeit through clenched teeth) the humor in the incident.
As a side note, at his going away party, one of the artist on our flight presented our lieutenant with a caricature of himself, kicking a briefcase through a goalpost.
Tune in next time for: Amn Destructor In Love.
In other news, while I forgo providing a transcript of the call, Gary (the idiot who called for help with his email yesterday while chewing, slurping and choking upon a sub sandwich and then got mad when I couldn’t understand him) does not know the 6th Guard’s Order. He doesn’t seem to understand German much either, no matter how loudly it’s shouted. Gary is also a good deal more easily frustrated than I am. I’m not certain, but at one point I thought I could hear the veins in his forehead rupturing.
Because there is no one who can out-aggravate me. Unless it’s political douchebags. They can usually get my dander up without much effort.
Like the people that are all up in arms about Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid. Apparently, some book quotes Reid as saying something about Obama’s “negro dialect” and how light skinned he is. This back in 2008, during the presidential campaign.
So now we got republicans calling for his resignation and people in the race industry making noise to get their donations up.
Some are calling for him to step down as majority leader and some are calling for him to be tarred and feathered. I’m sitting here going “Really? THIS is what we’re gonna bitch about?” I mean, there’s nothing politically (oh like maybe being a milk-knee, tax and spend, spend, spend liberal douchebag) we got to gripe about? Some quote, two years ago about the president not being what? Not negro enough?
Get a grip, all of you. If you want to run around braying about something, how about the fact that the senate and house versions of this healthcare “reform” bill are being negotiated behind closed doors, far from the scrutiny of the American citizens. This wouldn’t happen without the approval of Reid and we need to be hanging him by his underroos for this crap. We’re now getting word that the compromise bill contains garbage NEITHER house had in their versions.
But we’re gonna rip on the guy for a marginally racist remark, made during a presidential campaign. Yeah, no wonder people aren’t coming to the Republican Party in droves.
In other news, while looking through my stats thus far, I see a visitor from Switzerland! Seeing the Swiss flag amongst the flags of all my visitors from REAL countries is like seeing a smear of poo on the Mona Lisa. I’m blocking you asshats. I also called the Dutch Embassy and tried to get them to declare war on you, but they won’t. They said it would be like beating up a handicapped person. They did however agree to send me some more haagse hopjes because I’m one of the few Americans who understand the degree to which the Swiss spew butt nuggets.
Here’s another backward-hat-wearing doofus who failed to consider that the snow facing the sun would melt at a faster rate than the snow facing away from the snow. So, a new hummer lies in its side for the world to ridicule! Backward-hat jackasses need to move to Switzerland.
In other news, the boss was out today. I thought about starting a rumor that she was on a job interview, she didn’t say why she was out today. I was pretty much threatened with death if I did for fear it might be true.
Geeze, what a cluster that would set off. There’s probably three people in the department who would vie for the position and at least one person who couldn’t be forced into it at gunpoint. It’s probably just a cold or something.
In other news, we see the creative and editorial staffs locked in their weekly strivings. I’ve asked the creative staff to give me images that are at least in some way relevant to the text, but they instead gave me Random Fact Guy.
When the editorial staff says they want more talk about the fundamental differences between the two political parties, the graphic I get is this:
Training this afternoon, despite the boss being gone. Pushing this up a little early, but tomorrow is Reader Mail Day and we can rejoice! The mailbag is pretty full, but if you have something more interesting to say than something that’s already there, send it to 
.