Monday, July 30, 2007

Invasion U.S.A.


The jump itself was pretty god damn hairy. Things went pretty smooth for most of the trip. But once we hit the Rockies we started taking flack. A couple transport aircraft went down, and several others took heavy damage. A glider flying right next to me carrying two-dozen highly trained Moscow circus bears took a direct hit from a stinger and went up like the a roman candle. Poor bears- never even knew what hit them. But by the grace of Lenin, my plane made it through all that and we were ready to jump at 1200 feet. I jumped next to my old buddy Crotop the Moldovan Bear- a former Soviet paratrooper, I knew Crotop would look after me on the jump. He packed my chute, checked my oil, and I was good to go. I told him to save the reach-around until after we hit the ground, and he agreed.

The jump itself was fine- Crotop fired a bazooka round while in free fall- the round slammed into the broad side of a barn and blew the crap out of it. Got the hen house as well, and badly damaged the pigeon coup. Our spotters said some shrapnel even landed in the pig pen. That was the only bazooka round Crotop had with him, but he got the most out of it. Some would argue that he should have saved the round for something more threatening- such as an enemy tank- but dammit you only get so many chances to blow up captive enemy livestock while free falling- you have to take your shot when you get it.

Once we landed we had to secure our four drop zones for re-supply. We managed to hold onto three, but the blasted Colorado National Guard over-ran the fourth one. We had to fight tooth and nail up a ridge to our objective, but finally made it to New Baumstark, a sleepy and creepy Colorado town with a vital bridge that we had to capture.


After several days of fierce fighting, we captured the town and the bridge. Comrade Commissar Vander Nutz, our propaganda minister, commandeered the library and demanded they burn all their books as well as any handicapped individuals. The librarians were a bit puzzled, but complied. We enlisted the help of a brutal American criminal genius, the sinister Pacman Jones, to round up any trouble-making citizens, place them in outdoor holding pens, and crush any resistance. For my part, I drove around the town with my squad of crack Soviet stormtroopers and tipped over porta-potties, egged the elderly, urinated on cable dishes, and committed similar acts of espionage and terror designed to cause widespread panic and instill fear among the local population. They needed to know that resistance was futile.

To round out our crew we also hired B-movie character actor Danny Trejo to intimidate and whip the locals. I wanted Robert Davi, but Mr. Davi indicated he was appalled by our attack on his homeland and declined our offer. At any rate I think Mr. Trejo is a nice little pick-up on our part- not an evil dictator that you can build a major military around, but more of a complementary back-of-the-rotation bully that will eat alot of innings. Championship armies need guys like that.

Pacman Jones captured the leader of the local resistance, and everyone laid down their arms except for a few teenagers that fled into the mountains- I'm sure that's the last we'll hear from them- I wouldn't expect a half-dozen untrained teenagers to be able to mount any sort of insurgency against our highly professional and heavily armed forces.


And I have good news from Afghanistan- Although we have not located Enemy of the State #1, Domanick Williams (formerly Domanick Davis)...our contact in Kabul reports that we have captured his #4 man, Christopher Cooks, who was Domanick Williams' former high school coach. Our commandos raided an Afghan village in which Mr. Cooks was conducting a pee wee football clinic - I was told Mr. Cooks was actually captured while being unexpectedly tackled from behind by a commando as he was attempting to show some children how to punt. They said the commando used good form on the tackle before dropping and bludgeoning Mr. Cooks. I'm happy the kids got to see a good open-field tackle at no additional charge. Maybe there will be some future special teamers out of that lot- some budding little Afghan Steve Taskers if you will. Oh hello boo.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Back from the Dead

Good day loyal readers


Well first I would like to apologize for my leave of absence- it's been a year. Maybe longer. I can't really remember anymore. I don't suppose that matters, really.


But I have been away the past year or so recovering from the fever. I was doing some work in Burma managing a bridge-building operation along the Burma railway- a civic works project- sort of like the Tennessee Valley Authority, except you shoot the lazy workers and any social undesirables that happen upon the work site. We were ahead of schedule and things were going well, and then I came down with something the natives call "agbayani" - which in English translates roughly to something like "typical over-hyped marginal new york met," or "the yellow fever," depending on how you pronounce the "i" at the end.



And so I lay bed-ridden for many months and I thought. There wasn't much else to do really, so I just thought and thought and thought. And then it occurred to me that what I was doing was abominable- that I lived a terrible life and caused great pain to myself and to many others. And I realized that there is a higher being out there- and that one day I- we- you -us all- we will all go before that being and face our day of judgment. You can't run, and you can't hide. And I realized that my life must change before it is too late- that it has to change.



Eventually however, the bloody fever subsided, and with it, my delusions. I reread the collected works of Marshall Tito and got my mind right again. Then I trained with some Cossacks for a month- shooting, cavalry techniques, sword-play- really the whole nine yards. And that got me back to where I needed to be physically. And then some promising work recently came along after I reconnected with my old friend Ivan.



Ivan told me he had a major operation in the works- something real big with the Soviets and the Cubans- and Ivan asked if I wouldn't mind coming aboard- he said the youngsters could really learn a thing or two from a man like me- and he said there was something in it for me- on my own. So I trained with them for a few weeks and no D-Day is upon us.



We will be flying out of our undisclosed camp in about 0300 hours. Disguised as commercial airliners, we should hit US airspace in 1200 hours and the drop zones in about 1300 hours. Once we land, we are to capture a series of bridges with thunderclap precision, and set up a base camp at the foot of the last bridge. Personally I think we're going a bridge too far, but I'll defer to the event planners for now. And so God willing, I shall write again after the jump.



I'll close by briefly discussing my fantasy football "keeper" team. As many of you know, the team has been one giant charlie foxtrot since its founding in 2002. A grand disappointment on par with Mills' fruitless call-back interview campaign of 2002-03. But we have restructured management, executed our special teams unit, burned all our playbooks, and are hoping to make a great leap forward in 2007 for the glory of the State.



And we continue to do all we can to pursue Enemy of the State #1 and grand traitor to the cause Domanick Davis. You may recall that Mr. Davis faked a thigh injury last season that devastated our fantasy ranks, costing us a series of campaigns and untold suffering. Since his act of treason, he has reportedly fled to Afghanistan where he is hiding out in a remote mountainous region. He has reportedly changed his name to Domanick Williams, cut his hair, and changed his jersey number. But rest assured that we're going to catch this guy- maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow- but our friends in Afghanistan like Ham Karzes are doing all that they can. And then we got the wacky Packy, Pervis Mushareef Abdur-Rahim, over there in Islamabad makin sure Davis doesn't try an end run. So it's just a matter of time.

And further, I swear to Trotsky that we will catch that paper-hanging son-of-a-bitch, and I will personally run him down with my K-bar.



OK I've got to prep for the jump- take care!