Ferocity

Ferocity

-You didn't listen to me. I told you persuasion is an art. All finesse. All gentleness and endless patience. It is not hitting them over the head repeatedly with a two-by-four. I told you, leave your passion at the door. But, how did you do? You charged head long to the target, with the ferocity and savagery for which you are well-known. Now you left a big mess for me to clean up. You made some persons upset, annoyed, perturbed, constipated, masturbated, steamed up, uncomfortable, and an asshole predictably rollickingly rapturous, now that you are no longer part of tbe command structure. Some of them wanted to have you court-martialed. I told them, he is my brother. He is a true friend of mine. We are inseparable. If you want to bring him to court, I quit. You guys find somebody else to fight this dirty war. He was hot-headed, but his heart was in the right place. Unlike many others, he is a true blue patriot. Finally, they blinked and said, tell your brother to behave and please keep him on a tight leash. Roberto, you are what I called "I came. I saw, I charged right at the enemy. One of us will go down. It does not matter which one." It is not the way we operate. Here we think, we plan, we rehearse till it becomes second nature, then we execute the mission. Flawlessly. Not a single enemy left standing. All went down. Completely dead. Understand?

-I am so sorry.

-Let that be a lesson for you about human nature. People are cunning. They love to play games. They are not as they appear. You don't know Jack shit about humans. You thought you knew, but you didn't know shit. You thought you could study about the human animals from books. Books! Shit, not from books, Roberto. From life, from going out with them, drinking and whoring, putting them to a test, and watching for their reactions. Remember, all of them think they are smart, God's gift to mankind. All are self-righteous. All are selfish and self-absorbed. There might be two or three noble ones in the group. Not that phony, closet sex-obsessed self-declared Zen demolition expert. Not that religious nut either. Fuck, I don't know which ones for sure. I just sense there could be two or three truly devout Saudis among the group. No longer important now. We need to regroup. The element of surprise is gone. They are now all prepared, since you tipped them off with your impatience. The Talibans are no fools. No matter. I just received word that all-out air support was approved by the General. Hour of attack is set at three am tomorrow. You have about nine hours of rest. Don't screw up again this time. I expect a lot from you. Don't disappoint me again. Dismiss.

-Yes, colonel Silvio Stallone.

Written by Walter Mitty, a cousin of Roberto Wacko, a cousin of Wissai, a child of James Thurber. Those who don't know who Walter Mitty and James Thurber are, go to Google.