TBC

“Boy,” I narrowly respirated, three striped shoes nasty and ill-advised, “this is a long walk. Huh guys! A long one. Isn’t it?”

“Richard Bachman,” said either Jayson or Tyler, “and that’s a warning, soldier.”

It was the other. Tyler. Who drew, and placed fire down at my feet, the deck kicking up dirty rocks.

“And that’s a warning, too!”
Shots, from both.

“Dance!”

The twist. Watusi!

“Dance,” Tyler, who shot first, had all the intensity and hatred of Biff Tannen, as we crested the Congo mountain terrain.

“You can dance better than that!”

“That’s a ceasefire,” said Justin, “remrember, no matter if you load to capacity, never discharge beyond your own means. Or rate!”

Jayson nodded. Hands from outside flak to a pocket, retrieving a granola bar.

“Go. It’s your birthday!”

Ears ringing, this was no club, Sergeant Major.

“I’ll be sure to schedule proper maintenance. For me and the Armory.”

His sketching sounds from an inkstickp which doubled as a utinzel was barely audible over Jayson’s reasoned interjection.

“I’d prefer to think of it as a single armory; as a first tier soldier, a term I hate, I bring it. In less time, for equally important things.”

“Alright. Beating.”

“When we get back, let’s consider a spree.”

Justin smiled, thumbs up, boots coming down.

“Chutney ain’t around!”

“Hah-hah! Curtis!”

Sounds of revelry and quick to harmed camaraderie bordered with exclusivity echoed across the valley.

“It’s not about how hard we beat you! It’s how hard you can get hit, and get up. By us.”

I got to my feet, shakily.

“Gentlemen,” a person over the rise with a nailgene walked toward us, “I presume you four are my rendezvous.”

He had a pompous, put upon accent.

“I am happy to say across a wide variety of factors, that I, Christopher Cassidy, am drunk. And by chance or very specific intent, am now here.”

He reeled of fine champagne. Mickey’s.

“You guys! I like you. You swim. Right! Every. Day.”

“Rare occasion we don’t,” said Jayson.

“Rare.”

“Never.”

Three nodded in respect to the retired Navy Cross reciepient.

“We are here to find mountain apes, mountain apes and blue diamonds.”

Haven’t we done this, I grunted, fist inverted toward chest, slooped forehead toward Sergeant Major.

“But first, Jesus!”

Jayson swung on a monkey.