Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Red (10/01/09)
- TITLE: Did you Just Wash Your Car? Is It Dirty Already? Maybe This Is Why...
By Joshua Janoski
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The gulls stood from their chairs forming rows of uniform lines. They placed their wings firmly against their sides, eyes pointing straight ahead. The sergeant stepped to the front of the room.
“At ease, soldiers.”
The birds sat back down in their chairs and listened as their commanding officer spoke.
“You may be wondering why you’re in this briefing. The truth is we can’t ignore the recent tragedy that has taken place.”
The ceiling projector cast an image on the pull down screen at the front of the room. The image was of a cheesy-grinned, black bird dressed in camouflage fatigues. The sergeant pointed his left wing towards the screen.
“This here is our dear friend, Lieutenant Sheryl of Thirty-Second-Division-Crow-Squadron. She was a fine soldier and did a lot to unite the crow armies together with the gull armies. If it wasn’t for her, our forces might still be fighting with each other over bread crumbs on the beaches and in the streets.”
The sergeant clicked a button on his remote. The image switched to a horrifying picture of a cheesy-grinned, squished crow with part of a bagel sticking out of her mouth.
“As you can see here, it was food that turned out to be her folly. This is her after she was run over in Chino Hills while trying to grab up a bagel piece out of the street.”
Whispers could be heard in the crowd as soldiers discussed what they were seeing…
She was one of the best soldiers I knew!
A soldier doesn’t deserve to die in that way!
No matter how many times I see a soldier fall, I can never get used to these horrible images!
I told her that she needed to diet!
Is that an “everything bagel?” Those are delicious!
The hushed whispers grew louder, filling the conference room with noise.
“Quiet! This meeting is not over, soldiers! Now I know the death of Lieutenant Sheryl Crow is hard to digest, but we have to stay focused!”
The horrific image of the squished crow was switched to a side shot of a shiny, candy-apple-red Mustang convertible.
“This here is the vehicle that committed this heinous act. We know it has California plates, but we were unable to get a plate number. Our driver is a ditzy blonde who was out cruising with her jock boyfriend.”
The sergeant switched to an overhead picture of the car, the top was down and the woman and man could be seen driving down the road.
“Doesn’t this image make you want to peck someone’s eyes out like in that Alfred Hitchcock movie?”
The audience of soldiers nodded in agreeance.
“Now, you may be wondering why gulls were called in to handle the death of a fallen crow soldier. Well it’s quite simple actually! It’s because Sheryl was our ally, and because we are THE BEST! We are the SIXTY-FIFTH-AND-ONE-THIRD-POOPOO-BOMBARDIER-AIRBORN-DIVISION!”
The room erupted in cheers as soldiers jumped from their seats ready to take action. The sergeant stood silent for a moment as his eyes turned devilish red with anger and steam began rising from his plumage.
“The mission is simple! You see RED! You attack RED! You hunt down every RED MUSTANG CONVERTIBLE you see out there on the roads, and you bomb it with the BIGGEST berry splatters that your bodies can muster up! We will not stop until this death has been avenged! Strap on your helmets and loosen your bowels boys and girls…This is WAR! File out!”
The room cleared as the militant gulls headed out the room and prepared for takeoff. Private McCully stayed behind. A worried look covered his face.
“What are you doing just sitting there, Private? Get out there and prepare for your bombing run!”
“But Sarge, I have a big problem.”
The sergeant showed a rare hint of concern as he sat in the chair next to McCully.
“What’s going on, McCully? Don’t tell me that you are chickening out on your first run.”
“No that isn’t it. I’m just having, how should I say this?...technical difficulties. The ammo is stuck in the hatch if you know what I mean.”
The sergeant pulled what appeared to be two small chocolate squares out of his feathers and handed them to Private McCully.
“Take these, and they’ll ‘get you going’ if you know what I mean.”
The sergeant slapped the private on the back.
“Now go out there and make me proud.”
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