River McIrish: Oh, the joys of Basic Training...or at least the best that the two admirals could come up with. Whether it was the intimidation factor or the fact that these two could make the walls shake with just the pure vocal projection of their voices... "FALL IN!!!!" was roared at full volume. And those of us with any sense of brains "fell in..." to line. Most were quaking in their boots, shoes, sandals or whatever we had on our feet...in my case...I had just crawled out of bed and directly to the piano...so I didn't have much on. But I fell in...
No one moved, our synapses were too scared pee-less to even twitch even a 32nd of an inch. But these officers honed in on the slightest miscue. And the second person to be the focus of the vice-admiral's ire was Cycl0n3 Sw0rd. He strode up to Cycl0n3 and stopped nose to nose, nut to nut. "What's your name, Roachclip?" the vice-admiral snapped looking over from one side to another to see if anyone laughed; if they did, they'd be in front of a dragon breathing fire. Nobody did...not even Parker Langerak, even as a young man just aged up from teen, he stared straight ahead not even twitching a muscle.
"Uh...Cycl0n3 Sw0rd, sir."
"How the flark do you spell that?" the admiral growled ominously. "Your Momma not like you?"
"No sir, I called myself that...it's Leetspeak..." Cycl0n3 stammered then stopped as the admiral glared at him.
"You gotta vision problem, son, sensitivity to light?"
"No...sir..."Cycl0n3 stammered.
"You'd better get those shades off your face boy...before I knock 'em off and reduce it to it's component parts. GET 'EM OFF NOW!!!
At this juncture, Connor made a big mistake...and coughed...audibly.
If I were Connor Frio, I certainly wouldn't want to be him right now. Not with the vice-admiral's laser like focus aimed directly square at his forehead.
"Nice beard you got, Frito Junior..." the admiral glared at Connor Frio who looked absolutely petrified. "I almost mistook you for a toilet brush. Maybe I can tip you headfirst into the toilet and get the grunge out that accumulates under the rim. Would you like that?"
"No, sir!" Connor Frio barked out, standing motionless. "No, sir, I would not..."
"Lose the beard, Frito Junior. When you fall in tomorrow morning I expect your face as smooth as a baby's rear-hole. Do you understand me?!"
"Yes, sir!"
With this psychopathic drill-instructor breathing down our neck we were too petrified to move.
"So, Ms. Sekemoto...oh, I'm sorry, MR. Sekemoto. I couldn't tell...you look like a girl...with that hair... GET RID OF IT!!!!
Needless to say, it was quite the first day.
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