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January 16, 2008

From the Comments - By Spike

Missing In Action . . .

We were four hundred when we set out, uniforms crisp, guns shiny. Ready for anything. Now, after heavy action on beaches, in jungles, in snow, there are only five brave men left in our company. Kirkowski, Brown, Jones, Smith, and me.

After a pitched battle against the Axis of Evil, we return to camp victorious. We never rest, we never die, we go to Hell and regroup. Back at bivouac, in the big empty mess hall, I look around . . . where’s Kirkowski?

Lost on the barbeque grill? We hold a moment of silence for our melted comrade, our plastic hearts breaking.

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