“Good news, Buck; you’re going to Liberia,” Rumsfeld announced.
“Time for for’ner kill’n! Ooh-rah!” Buck exclaimed, “So I’m one of the thousands of Marines going over there.”
“Yeah, about that,” Rumsfled said, his expression getting serious, “We told the U.N. we were going to send thousands, but we’re too busy in the Middle East to dedicate that many Marines there. So, we’re just sending you. I’m sure you can handle it.”
“Well, who am I supposed to kill?”
“I dunno; I honestly haven’t been following the news about Liberia. Mad Arab, you know who Buck is supposed to kill.”
“Yeah, it’s simple,” General John Abizaid said, “Just find some crowded area, stand up on a platform where everyone can see you, and yell, ‘Hey! Look at me! I’m an American!’ while waving your arms in the air. Whoever shoots at you, they’re the bad foreigners. Kill them.”
Buck thought about that. “Sounds simple.”
“And if you see President Charles Taylor,” Gen. Abizaid continued, “Tell him he’s an ass and he should get out of office.”
“I think I can remember that.”
“There’s also the U.N. there.”
“Should I kill them too?”
Rumsfeld and Gen. Abizaid thought about this for a while. “Nah, they might be useful,” Rumsfeld finally said, “Just kill any foreigners that looks evil. And you can take Chomps with you; he could use the exercise.” Rumsfeld looked to Chomps who was lying on the ground asleep. “Hey, Chomps, what do you think of foreigners?”
Chomps sprung to his feet growling and randomly snapping at the air. Chomps did like foreigners.
“That’s my boy.”
Chomps kept violently attacking the dirt, clawing at it with his feet and the biting the ground while growling. He hated foreign soil.
“I know how you feel, Chomps, but we have to keep our mind on the mission. They’re are lots of foreign people out there who need a kill’n, and it ain’t going to happen without our help.”
Buck ventured into the nearby town where many citizens watched. “Hello, I’m Buck the Marine, from America. I’ve come to help some of you for’ners and kill others. If you are a for’ner I’m supposed to kill, please signal by attacking me violently.”
Most of the people just stared at them, but then some gunfire erupted and everyone fled the streets. Buck rolled for cover and returned fire at the one building it was coming from. Chomps ran towards the building and attacked his foundation, and soon the whole building collapsed.
“We’re supposed to be avoiding collateral damage, Chomps,” Buck scolded him.
Chomps just spat out a piece of cement.
Walking a little further into town, Buck soon caught glimpse of a tank. He knocked on its side. “Hello! Anybody in there?”
“Yes,” answered a voice, “We’re the U.N. We’re observing.”
“But there’s people get’n killed out there,” Buck protested, “Shouldn’t you help them.”
“No,” answered the voice, “It’s nice and safe inside this tank. If we were to come out and help people or do anything useful, we’d be going against everything the U.N. stands for.”
“Crazy for’ners,” Buck muttered, “How can you watch evil happening and not want to kill bad people. I just don’ts understand it, right, Chomps?” Buck looked to his side, and saw Chomps wasn’t there. Instead, Chomps was on top of the tank tearing off the hatch with his teeth. He then jumped down into the tank and there was a lot of screaming. Soon Chomps emerged again, sporting a big, slobbery smile and a blue helmet.
“Silly dog,” Buck laughed, “Now take off that helmet.” Buck reached for it, but Chomps started growling. “Fine; keep it. You can be the U.N. representative. Now where do we go next?”
Buck surveyed the area, and then noticed a dark street from which a chilled wind of foreignness blew down. He readied his rifle and prepared to embark. “Now let’s start kill’n for’ners until the for’ners we haven’t killed look happy. Ooh-rah!”
TO BE CONTINUED…
(i.e. do to poor planning, I didn’t set aside enough time to write a full story)
Bwa-ha-ha!
Okay, Chomps is hereby nominated as my Ambassador to the United Nations!
And Frank, that makes this my favorite post for my Group C answers.
J
Chomps in a blue helmet.
That’s beautiful, man.
Does Buck ever get to kill for’ners with the help of other for’ners, say the good smiling locals, or does he always work alone? An insignificant point, I suppose, but the good smiling for’ners in this story deserve some of the fun, I think.
He does this just to torture me
Frank always starts my work week off the right way, and today is no exception: IMAO: In My World: Buck Goes to Liberia The only problem is—“to be continued”!!!!!! Auuugh!!!!…
I have to believe that Chomps would be the single most effective UN representative EVER. Actually, a ziploc bag full of raw sewage would have more of an impact than any UN reps that I can think of, so ol’ Chomps is gonna be GREAT at this job.
Oh, BTW, the phrase “a chilled wind of foreignness” is easily the funniest thing I’ve read this week.
Perhaps my humor tresshold is lower than other people’s. I just think of the concept of “Chomps, the world’s angriest dog”, being petted by Donald Rumsfeld, and I cannot help but laugh.
Walking a little further into town, Buck soon caught glimpse of a tank. He knocked on its side. “Hello! Anybody in there?”
“Yes,” answered a voice, “We’re the U.N. We’re observing.”
“But there’s people get’n killed out there,” Buck protested, “Shouldn’t you help them.”
“No,” answered the voice, “It’s nice and safe inside this tank. If we were to come out and help people or do anything useful, we’d be going against everything the U.N. stands for.”
That’s just priceless.
“Soon Chomps emerged again, sporting a big, slobbery smile and a blue helmet.”
From your keyboard to God’s monitor, at broadband speed, please!
Again, the money line:
Laughed out loud.
George
LOL! Waiting for the sequel!
Finally, a UN watchdog that you can count on. Short but sweet Frank!
Well, there goes another monitor.
Buck needs a girlfriend to go kill’n with, and Chomps needs…Chomps needs absolutly nothing. Wow, another great creation from the mind of a genius.
Tim E.
Heh, Chomps is a neoconivore.
“Chomps just spat out a piece of cement”
And then it just got better.
Absolutely hil-friggin’-arious. My favourite part:
“Buck surveyed the area, and then noticed a dark street from which a chilled wind of foreignness blew down. He readied his rifle and prepared to embark.”
Frank, I know you hear it all the time, but I have to say that your writing is nothing but the work(s) of a genius.
Actually, Chomps reminds me of a character from a cartoon called Eekstravaganza: Sharky the Sharkdog. Except Sharky had opposable thumbs and knew how to use them. 😉
An appeal for compassion…
Frank, you know that I love you. I think you are the funniest political writer on the planet. But please… LOOSE THE NETFLIX AD!!!…
Down, Boy, DOWN!
Just in case that you thought that Frank’s Chomps was an entirely fictional character, you might wanna read this.Residents said…
ha ha Aric, Chomps a ‘neoconivore’. ha ha ha may we always have Chompses and Bucks to protect us when the Chill Wind of Foreignness blows…