So a couple of weeks ago I stop over at Best Buy to see if B&W was out yet, it wasnt, no dice, whatever. So I f*ck around in the store for a few hours, get bored, and decide to head on out. As I'm leaving I notice they have a little stand set up right at the exit. The word "free" catches my eye, so I head over to check it out. It appears to be some kind of contest..."Free Sony HDTV giveaway, fill out contest form and..." yadda yadda yadda yadda blah blah, I'm there cha ching! Fill out the form and go on my merry way with visions of playing SSX on my new HDTV.
A few days pass, I get home from work kick off the shoes, grab a brewsky from the fridge and flip on Judge Judy, the ole normal routine. Before I can even crack my Bud open there's a stern knock at the door. Annoyed, I peel back the curtain to see who's interrupting my private time with JJ. There's a black bus parked in the driveway. "What the..?!" I go to the door and I'm greeted by three rather large men adorned in military garb.
"Can I help you?" I asked.
"Is Tim Mack here?" they ask.
After debating with myself for several seconds whether or not I should even answer that question, I finally respond "Ugh, yeah that's me."
"Grab your things and let's go Mack, and hustle it, we're running late!"
"What are you talking about?"
"Mack this bus is leaving for boot camp in t-minus 20 seconds and if you're puny white a$$ is not ready we're going to..."
"Boot camp? what the... you guys have the wrong guy....I'm not sure that..."
The three men exchange looks with each other.
"Are you Tim Mack?"
"Yes"
"Is this your signature?," he barks as he extends a small card in front of my face.
I've...I've seen that before...its the contest card from Best Buy!!!
"Yeah that's my signature...but...I dont see what that..what...."
As though he already knew what I was going to say, he, with the card still extended in my face, shifts his index finger down to some small print at the bottom...
I started reading "All contest participants are bound to serve a two year tour of duty in the United States Navy starting no later than one week after entrance into the contest"
"Can you read English? Did you or did you not sign this card at your own will?"
"Well yeah..I can...I did....but...the...it's just that...the HDTV and all...and..."
"In the bus NOW you maggot!!!!! Move it move it move it!"
Well I dont want to bore you with the details so long story short, I make it through boot camp. They're impressed with my mad culinary skillz, and in no time I make Third Brigadere Cook Master General. Around the first of April I'm asssigned my first real mission.
I was briefed on my way to the airbase. "Now Mack, this is an important mission....top secret type stuff. Your orders are coming from pretty high up the chain. You are to accompany this crew while they perform their mission. You do not ask any questions, youre only concern is to keep them well fed. In fact, this is so classified you're going to have to put on this blind fold before you board the plane and you are not to remove it until the mission is over."
"My god man, do you know who I am? I'm a Third Brigadere Cook Master General, I have level three security clearance. I could poop in the presidents Corn Flakes and nobody would be the wiser."
"Well this mission is level four security."
"Wow," I mused to myself.
We arrive at the end of the strip, I'm introduced to the crew, I put on the blindfold, and board the plane.
It was a pretty routine mission, standard type stuff. A grilled cheese here, a club sandwich there. Though I guess with the blindfold any lesser of a US Navy cook might have had a problem...hell half those guys cant even tell the difference between a spatula or a d1ck in their hand. But I'm Third Brigadere Cook Master General, so it didnt phase me in the slightest.
I get a call that the pilot and copilot want coffee. So I brew up a couple cups and head up to the cock pit.
"Here you are gentlemen, two cups of the finest jav....."
"hey watch it!"
"Watch what you d1ckhead," I think to myself, I mean I'm wearing a blindfold for gods sake.
Too late, I tripped over something, I'm not sure what but I dumped the coffee everywhere...
"Aiiiiiiiii, my eyes I cant see......aiiiiii"
"Oh for the love of sweet jesus the instrument panel is shorted out...no, not the auto pilot....we're gonna die, we're gonna die!!!!"
"Cant you just fly manually!!!???" I shouted!
"What does this f*cking look like? The f*cking Air Force???.......I'm just a goddamn seaman you f*ck wad!"
"Aiiiiiii my eyes my eyes....."
By this time the plane is doing some serious nose divage.
I awaken in a dark room. It takes me a while to focus my eyes but in a few moments I gain my bearings. My comrades and I are in a line chained to a wall. There's a group of men in the corner conversing in another language, Japanese, no maybe Chinese.
"Mack's awake," I heard one of the crew members whisper.
"Here's the deal Mack, we were spying on the Chinese. The plane went down on their land... They're talking about putting us on trial...we're scared man...we don't.."
"Shhhhh here they come," somebody hissed
In a harsh whisper I said "Guys, guys let me handle this...I'm a people person, I'm good at this kinda thing."
So you know me, I figure I'll break the ice with a little joke.
The Asian fellows approach us.
"Hi...hi, how are ya? Third Brigadere Cook Master General Mack here. Hey yall ever heard this one? How do you blind fold a chinamen?"
What seems like two, maybe three days later I awaken in a cramped cell. My body was very sore and I notice bruises all over. Apparently the term "dental floss" doesnt translate very well into chinese. There I sit. There's no room to stand, I can barely even stretch out my legs in front me nor my arms to either side. Each wall is soild, bare concrete with the exception of the wall in front of me which has a window covered by a sliding door. Every few hours some buck toothed little commy bastard pops his head in the window in order to check on me I guess. Days go by without food or water. The tedium was enough to drive a lesser man insane. Just sitting there in the darkness, only getting a glimmer of light when the buck toothed bastard poked his head in. Bucko, thats what I call him now, Bucko. Anyhow, for the umpteenth time Bucko pops his head in the window like usual only this time he's accompanied by a couple friends, one of whom offers me an ice cold cola. You have to realize that by this point I am bordering on unconsciousness, in a clear state of mind I would have suspected something, but will power was no match for my scorching thirst. I slug down the entire can in a matter of seconds much to the apparent joy of my commy a$$ed onlookers.
"What are you looking at Bucko, leave me the hell alon....." before I could even finish the sentence, the salty, putrid taste of urine burned throughout my entire mouth and throat. It appears the age old adage is true. By this time Bucko and his little friends are on the ground rolling with laughter. He's trying to tell me something but he's laughing so hard I could only make out a few lines...
"Me Chinese, me play joke, me...."
I hurled the coke can at him..."yeah Bucko, you commy bastard I know how the damn rhyme goes jack a$$" My spirits were broken.
What seems like a few more days go by, the same routine over and over, only now every time Bucko pokes his head in he's sporting a grin from ear to ear. Confined in my cell and weakened from lack of food and water, I can do nothing more than let out a vengeful snarl.
Next thing I know I wake up in the infirmary back at base with my captain standing over me. "Mack, Mack...can you understand me...hello hello"
He slaps my face a couple times.
"Yeah...yeah...I'm here....where am I? what happened?"
"You're back at base now. The negotiators finally managed to get you and the crew out of there. You were unconscious when we evacuated you. Rest up, it will take you a few days to get your strength back"
"But who will feed the men, I cant....."
"Well *sigh* no sense in waiting to tell you. You've been dishnorably discharged."
"What?!?!"
"Yep, under section 9 stipulation 3 of the code of Navy cooks."
"But I dont remember putting a spatula up my a$$???"
"Just lie down and rest boy."
Anywho, I'm back now. What did I miss while I was gone?
A few days pass, I get home from work kick off the shoes, grab a brewsky from the fridge and flip on Judge Judy, the ole normal routine. Before I can even crack my Bud open there's a stern knock at the door. Annoyed, I peel back the curtain to see who's interrupting my private time with JJ. There's a black bus parked in the driveway. "What the..?!" I go to the door and I'm greeted by three rather large men adorned in military garb.
"Can I help you?" I asked.
"Is Tim Mack here?" they ask.
After debating with myself for several seconds whether or not I should even answer that question, I finally respond "Ugh, yeah that's me."
"Grab your things and let's go Mack, and hustle it, we're running late!"
"What are you talking about?"
"Mack this bus is leaving for boot camp in t-minus 20 seconds and if you're puny white a$$ is not ready we're going to..."
"Boot camp? what the... you guys have the wrong guy....I'm not sure that..."
The three men exchange looks with each other.
"Are you Tim Mack?"
"Yes"
"Is this your signature?," he barks as he extends a small card in front of my face.
I've...I've seen that before...its the contest card from Best Buy!!!
"Yeah that's my signature...but...I dont see what that..what...."
As though he already knew what I was going to say, he, with the card still extended in my face, shifts his index finger down to some small print at the bottom...
I started reading "All contest participants are bound to serve a two year tour of duty in the United States Navy starting no later than one week after entrance into the contest"
"Can you read English? Did you or did you not sign this card at your own will?"
"Well yeah..I can...I did....but...the...it's just that...the HDTV and all...and..."
"In the bus NOW you maggot!!!!! Move it move it move it!"
Well I dont want to bore you with the details so long story short, I make it through boot camp. They're impressed with my mad culinary skillz, and in no time I make Third Brigadere Cook Master General. Around the first of April I'm asssigned my first real mission.
I was briefed on my way to the airbase. "Now Mack, this is an important mission....top secret type stuff. Your orders are coming from pretty high up the chain. You are to accompany this crew while they perform their mission. You do not ask any questions, youre only concern is to keep them well fed. In fact, this is so classified you're going to have to put on this blind fold before you board the plane and you are not to remove it until the mission is over."
"My god man, do you know who I am? I'm a Third Brigadere Cook Master General, I have level three security clearance. I could poop in the presidents Corn Flakes and nobody would be the wiser."
"Well this mission is level four security."
"Wow," I mused to myself.
We arrive at the end of the strip, I'm introduced to the crew, I put on the blindfold, and board the plane.
It was a pretty routine mission, standard type stuff. A grilled cheese here, a club sandwich there. Though I guess with the blindfold any lesser of a US Navy cook might have had a problem...hell half those guys cant even tell the difference between a spatula or a d1ck in their hand. But I'm Third Brigadere Cook Master General, so it didnt phase me in the slightest.
I get a call that the pilot and copilot want coffee. So I brew up a couple cups and head up to the cock pit.
"Here you are gentlemen, two cups of the finest jav....."
"hey watch it!"
"Watch what you d1ckhead," I think to myself, I mean I'm wearing a blindfold for gods sake.
Too late, I tripped over something, I'm not sure what but I dumped the coffee everywhere...
"Aiiiiiiiii, my eyes I cant see......aiiiiii"
"Oh for the love of sweet jesus the instrument panel is shorted out...no, not the auto pilot....we're gonna die, we're gonna die!!!!"
"Cant you just fly manually!!!???" I shouted!
"What does this f*cking look like? The f*cking Air Force???.......I'm just a goddamn seaman you f*ck wad!"
"Aiiiiiii my eyes my eyes....."
By this time the plane is doing some serious nose divage.
I awaken in a dark room. It takes me a while to focus my eyes but in a few moments I gain my bearings. My comrades and I are in a line chained to a wall. There's a group of men in the corner conversing in another language, Japanese, no maybe Chinese.
"Mack's awake," I heard one of the crew members whisper.
"Here's the deal Mack, we were spying on the Chinese. The plane went down on their land... They're talking about putting us on trial...we're scared man...we don't.."
"Shhhhh here they come," somebody hissed
In a harsh whisper I said "Guys, guys let me handle this...I'm a people person, I'm good at this kinda thing."
So you know me, I figure I'll break the ice with a little joke.
The Asian fellows approach us.
"Hi...hi, how are ya? Third Brigadere Cook Master General Mack here. Hey yall ever heard this one? How do you blind fold a chinamen?"
What seems like two, maybe three days later I awaken in a cramped cell. My body was very sore and I notice bruises all over. Apparently the term "dental floss" doesnt translate very well into chinese. There I sit. There's no room to stand, I can barely even stretch out my legs in front me nor my arms to either side. Each wall is soild, bare concrete with the exception of the wall in front of me which has a window covered by a sliding door. Every few hours some buck toothed little commy bastard pops his head in the window in order to check on me I guess. Days go by without food or water. The tedium was enough to drive a lesser man insane. Just sitting there in the darkness, only getting a glimmer of light when the buck toothed bastard poked his head in. Bucko, thats what I call him now, Bucko. Anyhow, for the umpteenth time Bucko pops his head in the window like usual only this time he's accompanied by a couple friends, one of whom offers me an ice cold cola. You have to realize that by this point I am bordering on unconsciousness, in a clear state of mind I would have suspected something, but will power was no match for my scorching thirst. I slug down the entire can in a matter of seconds much to the apparent joy of my commy a$$ed onlookers.
"What are you looking at Bucko, leave me the hell alon....." before I could even finish the sentence, the salty, putrid taste of urine burned throughout my entire mouth and throat. It appears the age old adage is true. By this time Bucko and his little friends are on the ground rolling with laughter. He's trying to tell me something but he's laughing so hard I could only make out a few lines...
"Me Chinese, me play joke, me...."
I hurled the coke can at him..."yeah Bucko, you commy bastard I know how the damn rhyme goes jack a$$" My spirits were broken.
What seems like a few more days go by, the same routine over and over, only now every time Bucko pokes his head in he's sporting a grin from ear to ear. Confined in my cell and weakened from lack of food and water, I can do nothing more than let out a vengeful snarl.
Next thing I know I wake up in the infirmary back at base with my captain standing over me. "Mack, Mack...can you understand me...hello hello"
He slaps my face a couple times.
"Yeah...yeah...I'm here....where am I? what happened?"
"You're back at base now. The negotiators finally managed to get you and the crew out of there. You were unconscious when we evacuated you. Rest up, it will take you a few days to get your strength back"
"But who will feed the men, I cant....."
"Well *sigh* no sense in waiting to tell you. You've been dishnorably discharged."
"What?!?!"
"Yep, under section 9 stipulation 3 of the code of Navy cooks."
"But I dont remember putting a spatula up my a$$???"
"Just lie down and rest boy."
Anywho, I'm back now. What did I miss while I was gone?
Last edited:
