<a>”Stand at ease. I’m sure all of you are familiar with the Marine Mammal Program.”
Members of -2 nodded and grunted assent.
“Well, you ate those animals last night.”
“Gross,” said one shipmate.
“Cool,” said another.
“Now,” said the Admiral pulling a sheet, “Arleigh Burke.
“Arleigh Burke is an 18 foot King Cobra Codenamed TYRANT REX that from now on is your ears, legs, and epidermis on the ground.”
“Why is it named Arleigh Burke?”
“Arleigh Burke had a kickass cobra tattoo.”
No argument.
“What’s next should make your wives happy: in the event you are KIA, your remains will be consumed by Arleigh Burke.
“Like all cobras, however, it prefers live prey. So watch out on bedrest. If your religion prohibits you from being interred via reptile, a waiver for blasphemy will be issued. I
“Waiver only offered in Canada and must be paid in bitcoin with my nominal fee. This waiver will be issued by the Chaplain Corps. On an unrelated but pertinent dogma, the Chaplain have recognised this snake as the De Jure Primate of Italy. They are waiting for us in Alberta.
“They insist, to clear evidence to the contrary, that this snake, the Vicar of Christ, is a bipedal organism.”
“It is to be filled with man.”
“Yes. We go in the snake.”
“As Jesus filled men.”
“Focus up,” saifdniiwhat light holds fast, in the darkest of night?”
“The Calgary Flames!”
CHOOSE YOUR ENDING
CHOICE ONE
“Go flames,” added the Admiral fiercely. “Flame on!”
M1 Flamethrower.
CHOICE TWO
“Let’s get out of the water.”
CHOICE 2 1/2
“Yes, let us.”
“This snake is going to eat Navy SEALs, and crap thunder! Assuming death occurs concordant precipitation.”
“Snake don’t drink,” replied a Naval Commando.
“Who is us permission to come aboard.”
“Your Holiness.”
“Whoa, Mark got aboard.”
END.
San Francisco Story
I found it in front of The Great American Music Hall. Up on the 800 block of O’Farrell Street, in the Tenderloin. This was a few years ago. 2021 or 2022.
It was a murder scene. No bodies, but a pool of blood. There.
I saw it.
Saw that I had to get moving.
Then, I was moving.
“Well, I’m going down with it.”
Pick up your ruck, and keep going.
I hurled it into the water by the pier, where Market street leads out to. There it is still cooling.
END.
SEA STORY III
“SEALs,” said the man, “hypothetical.”
“Shoot.”
I’ll concede you could handle a Terminator The Terminator (1984) but I don’t think you could handle a Terminator and a Predator Predator (1987) working independently of one another, and I want your opinion.”
“Sir. Put away the gun and we’ll tell you!”
“I have eyes in the sky, gentlemen.”
END.
C STORY
“Do we approve that Top Secret document for release?”
“God, no,” replied CIA superior, “drop it from an airplane. See if it kills anybody.”
“It was a 46 billion dollar project.”
END.
SEA STORY
There about then Captain Billy Birdzell, who knows about birds, walked into the living quarters of several, which is to say more than three, Special Warfare personnel.
“It’s time to feed the hawk. Come on, hawk,” Bill beckoned then clarifying, “I call him a ‘hawk.’ Because he’s a bitch.”
Then, to raised eyebrows but no complaints, Billy, opened his button-fly, exposing his genitals. And, moving with his hips produced a circular motion sometimes referred to as “rotating penis through self-induced gyration.”
“Here, eagle,” he called out. “Eagle, right here!” He waited. Nothing happened. He concluded with the assertion that, “Eagles fellate me. That’s what the Naval Special Warfare insignia is doing.”
“No wonder you’re so jaded,” asked a Chief Special Warfare Operator, holding a coffee mug in each hand.
“Why are you holding two mugs?” Asked Billy.
“For a double dose of LD-50,” replied the Chief.
“Don’t give me lip.”
SAND STORY
Mike D (Michael Daniels) and I walked to post together at an Iraqi oil refinary. The first time, he was holding a hedgehog.
“What is that,” I asked.
“It’s a hedgehog.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No. I’m just holding it!”
The second time, there was a bit of black piping in our path. This was at dusk.
“Oh, dude,” I ejaculated, “there’s a snake.”
“No, it’s not,” smiling he replied walking and leaned in closer. “It’s a pipe.”
The third time, I kicked sand and out of the moisture heavy sand underneath the surface, a frog jumped out.
END.
Pictured: The “coveted” Naval Special Warfare Insignia.
SEX STORY
“Yes sir,” he answered, not officially acknowledging the order, immediately copulating with the bulkhead; crude breasts etched with a blade on the gray surface, the readily accessible paint unused set to a side and a woman cozy, convenient and consenting for the task.
END.
NEPTUNE STORY
“Mark,” said the man (emphasis), “you wheel in Bin Laden.”
Admiral McRaven was a killer. Mark was out the door! Before I pushed him to the deck.
“I’ll do it,” I said. My moniker: “The Black Operator©.” (1FDRBN)
“Well,” said Bill. “what did you bring me?”
He pulled away a sheet.
“Bin Laden. Nice.”
He pulled a parallel sheet.
“Bin Ladens. Nice.”
I beamed. 42 extra French Fourrageres’ in my pocket.
“Robert LeVeck, get in your black snake sleeping bag.”
“Aye, aye. Sir,” I said, feeling stranger.
I nourished Arleigh Burke.
“How’s that feel. Tight.”
“Like pussy!”
END.
Hi, you may remember Arliegh Burke, our 18-foot King Cobra codenamed: TYRANT REX from his cameo in “Aladdin” (1992). He was quite the young warfighter. Maybe not so much now, in his office at the Pentagon and West Wing.
</A>
<🇫 🇧 🇮 [Djous=“Jupiter” “King of Kings” "Robert LeVeck"] [The infant="El Niño"] [Ruling House= "In Effect for U.S. Congress" "Black"] [geekbar="AEJAAU5BFS2Q"] [Style="#76a5af"]>