A/N: This fic is a rebirth of sorts. I'm returning to the category that started my fanfic career. It's mainly to kick start my brain again! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Barbecue barbecued my disclaimer! (Duh!)
A Drill Sergeant's Diary
In the secret military base known only as the Pit, is one room which even the bravest Joe won't enter; even the resident ninja quake in their boots when the topic of breaching the room is brought up. The only one to ever enter that room is the Joe who it was assigned to as his personal quarters. Beach Head, the Joes drill sergeant, and according to most Joes, torture specialist.
Present in Beach Head's room, besides the infamous smell are some of his most prized personal possessions among them Sgt. Snuffles, and the object of most interest to us, his diary. Let's take a peek, shall we?
April 1st, 2009
0530 hours
Woke up to that loudmouth Sgt. Slaughter saying he was here to whip us into shape since our current training regime was 'one any preschooler could do with one hand tied behind their back' over the PA system. Stormed into Hawk's office to give the leatherneck idiot a piece of my mind. Found Duke, Flint and Mainframe rolling on the floor in-between using Mainframes latest gizmo to keep 'Beach Head's Testimonials' up and running.
0730 hours
Spent the last two hours searching for Hawk, so as to get permission to dole out some punishment on the three stooges. How did they become command staff is beyond me. Our 'fearless' leader took off to DC yesterday for an urgent meeting. Ran for the hills is more like it. Came back to the quarters to find someone's managed to let off a 'perfume' bomb in the room without actually entering it.
1000 hours
Just got out of the shower. Found out the hard way whose perfume was used in that bomb. Cover Girl wasn't pleased. Spent an hour dodging that damned Wolverine. Women should not be allowed to drive those things!! Especially the psycho females this unit seems to attract!!
1230 hours
Had some of BA's Special of the Day. Am still throwing up every 20 minutes. This is worse than the time Uncle Al cooked us his 'Road kill Special'. The name wasn't just for effect.
1500 hours
Someone's going to pay!! The nincompoops who decided on a My Little Pony motif for the new obstacle course, are gonna get 20 years of KP duty! I ought to start carrying a shotgun like ole Grandpa Matt. Ain't nobody ever messed with Grandpa Matt.
1800 hours
Finally got the course back into shape. Found out who was behind the bomb and this. Have something special planned for them. Going off base for dinner. Doubt my stomach can take another of BA's meals. Think this is all a cosmic joke, bad karma and all that. Thank god Roadblock's got the next rotation!
2030 hours
Had a pretty good meal. Am testing out our simulation rooms with Dusty, Iceberg and Alpine. Dusty and Iceberg needed to do a bit of cross training, Alpine needs to work on his water skills. Absolutely top notch, these simulations, Hawk got them through a contact up in Westchester. Wonder if I have to drop a hint to Cover Girl that Dusty's the one who really pinched her precious perfume. Maybe later; never did figure out what's so special about Chanel No. 5. Anyway, back to the show. Damn, it feels good to be me!
Let us conclude our trip into the life of Beach Head, drill sergeant extraordinaire, here. Tune in next time for yet another interesting glimpse.
A/N: I find listening to Country music helps me write BH. My personal favourite is Alan Jackson. My picks for this fic are Gone Country, Home, Chasin' That Neon Rainbow and Don't Rock The Jukebox.