Wednesday, May 25, 2011


* Wait a damn minute. That cannot be the alarm ringing. How did I actually get to sleep last night?
* Note to self, showering Chateau Adolf before a fight is not a good idea. I smell worse than the person I woke up next to. Who was that masked man?
* Morning briefing, thankfully brief. Everyone knows what they're doing, when, and why. I'm going to be conducting from the UFO, which I have rechristened Lady Gilda. No one needs any explanation, surely.
* Gilda !@#$ Radner, you mental midgets. Were you asleep in the Seventies?
* Jesus Christ. We are doing this. We are doing this.
* Does me good to see so many capes lined up by Lady Gilda. They all have the look in their eyes. The look that they're ready to fight this fight. Ready to do what needs doing. Ready to give it their all.
* What the !@#$ is wrong with this UFO? Why is it not moving? We got everyone on board and we're all just waiting for me and I do not like holding it up because of faulty stolen Nazi equipment! Oh, Lady Gilda, how could you let me down?
* Parking brake. Figures. !@#$ Nazi engineers.
* Fleet is away. One hour to Antarctica. Bastards will not even smell us coming.
* No, we are not there, yet. Sit the !@#$ down.
* Should have brought more booze. Not enough to properly share.
* Oh, wait, I forgot I picked up more on the way to Neo York the other day. Boy was that convenience store clerk unhappy.
* Okay, no more booze. Who'd have thought Corporal Flag's grandson was such a lightweight?
* Lady Gilda, you are fast and silent, and filled with wonderful things, but you do not have a coffee machine. This a critical oversight in light of the fact that it takes you a little over an hour to make it from Neo York to the South Pole. Obviously the people (a term I'm using very loosely, here) who designed your interiors were not thinking of comfort.
* No bathrooms, either? Jesus, why did I not notice this, before? Okay, we're gonna !@#$ in the snow, ladies and gentlemen. Call it a warm up.
* Neuschwabenland is in sight. The inside of Lady Gilda's lighting up like a Hanukkah Bush. I figure we have about five minutes before they realize we're sneaking into their defenses on a UFO that's been missing for a decade and start firing.
* We are through and firing. The shield generators are going down like back alley hookers when the sailors come to town.
* And we're down! Out! Out you bastards! Shoot anything that doesn't like baseball, hot dogs, apple pie, or Chevrolet!
* Aw man, lost one already. Not the way I wanted to start this.
* See a Nazi, shoot a Nazi. See a Nazi, shoot a Nazi.
* What the hell was that? Oh, right, that was the plague missiles. Good thing we're inoculated. Too bad they're not. 
* Yeah, shove this, Krebs. I see you, but not anymore.  You enjoy the singing smallpox, you bastard?
* What was her name again? Darn it. Ought to remember her name.
* Oh yes, that's my boys and girls, going hand-to-hand with the Luftwaffe. I love to see the professionals at work. Just watch out for the drones.
* Darn drones. Need to fix the programming.
* Sgt. Lightning's daughter. Lady Lightning. !@#$. I owed her dad better than this. I owed them all better.
* Okay, they've gotten their reserves up. Time for Plan P. P as in Penguins. Everyone run for cover!
* I love the smell of suicide penguins first thing in the morning. Smells like dead supernazi.
* Where the hell is that brain cannon? And get up the brown note generators! I want the remnants on the ground !@#$ themselves because Odin isn't happy with them, anymore!
*(No offense meant to the real Odin, of course. Just a figure of speech.)
* Okay, now that doesn't smell like dead supernazi, anymore. That just smells like !@#$. Turn the generators off, please.
*Word from inside the base. We have secured the perimeter. Burgdorf and Keitel holed up in the central hall but we wore them down, one bullet at a time. Jodl's scratched out here. That just leaves Hewel, and I suspect I know where he went.
* Looks like I owe Atlantis after all. Scratch one U-boat. Scratch Hewel. Emperor Thurl says he's bringing me his head but can't make any promises about the rest. I guess his pets are hungry. Or he is.
* I finally get a chance to piss in the snow. I write "!@#$ Hitler" next to what's left of Jodl and take a picture to send home. It's my way of letting the President know what I've done. Gotta love not being able to be fired.
* Dead supernazis everywhere, and not a lot of us even scratched. We'll bury our honored dead in a better place than this. But for now there's cheering and happiness, maybe stunned relief. I'll let them have that, for now. They've earned it. We've earned it.
* Oh no, they didn't turn off the brown note. !@#$

(SPYGOD is listening to Headhunter (Front 242, Empyrion Mix) and trying not to drink the yellow snow)

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