How [I think] Preston Marlowe Came into B-Company

Preston walked towards to a helicopter to check it out. He had just been shipped to the base along with the other privates but hadn't met anyone friendly to him.

Boy, wouldn't this be fun to fly? he thought to himself.

"Real beauty ain't she?" the pilot inside said to him. "Never seen you around here before. What's your name, newbie?"
"Private Preston Marlowe, sir," Preston said, saluting.

The pilot rubbed his chin in thought.

"Marlowe, eh?" he said. "Was your daddy in Vietnam"
"Yes, sir," Preston replied. "Why?"

The pilot held his hand out and shook Preston's.

"Name's Bing," he said. "I served with that son 'a bitch back in 'Nam. I didn't think his boy would be in the army."

Preston nodded his head and looked at the helicopter. He sighed, wishing he could fly it. Apparently, Bing noticed and he handed him his co-pilot's helmet. Preston took it but looked at Bing confused.

"You really mean it?" he asked.

Bing nodded his head. "If you're Marlowe's boy, you can fly this here thing," Bing said, "just like your old man. Genes, y'know?"

With that, Bing took out his cantene filled with beer and drank it, then climbed into the cockpit.

Preston climbed into the cockpit with Bing sitting next to him in the co-pilot's. There were so many buttons and so many flashy light things that confused him. One button stood out and he was about to press it but Bing's hand slapped it.

"Don't touch any of the buttons, just the throttle and cyclic," Bing snapped at him.

After a few minutes of a quick lesson, Preston slowly climbed the helicopter up into the air. By slowly, we mean he rose 1 inch, then 2 inches then 6 inches, then 5 feet and so on. 15 minutes later, he was as high up as the control tower.

Then the helicopter started swinging from left to right.

"What the hell are you doing?" Preston asked Bing.

Bing looked pretty drunk and was reaching for the cyclic control. The helicopter started to beep and Preston looked at the fuel button. The arrow began to slowly drop down to the E.

"Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!" Preston yelled.
Deadly Cobra, Deadly Cobra, this is Mike-1-Juliet to Deadly Cobra. Are you all right?

Preston grabbed the walkie. "NO! WE ARE NOT ALL RIGHT! WE ARE GOING TO CRASH!"

Down below, the General had just arrived in his classy BMW. He came across a crowd of privates who had gathered around the helipad. The General picked out one of the privates.

"Private, can you tell me what the hell's going on in MY base?!" he yelled.
"Sir! One of the privates, Preston Marlowe, is up there with Bing, sir!"

With that, the General dropped the private and watched the helicopter. It was losing altitude quickly and it seemed as if it was going to land on the General's car. The General noticed this and hesitated to return to his car.

Back up in the heli, Preston was trying to move it a few yards to the left.

I can do this. I can do this. I can NOT do this. I CAN NOT DO THIS! SHIT!

And BOOM! The helicopter crashed into the General's car. Miraculously, Preston was able to crawl out. The other privates were rushing to get Bing out. They brought him into the medical tent where he was yelling gibberish and cursing at Preston. The medic reported that Bing had minor head injuries, a concussion, and a broken arm.

As for our private? Preston only had a bump on his head and a few scratches on his face. Oh, and he was also court marshalled by the General himself.

"Look, I'm sorry sir," Preston said, trying to apologize, "but Bing offered me the chance to fly it. And if I had landed that chopper just a few yards to the left nobody would even have noticed..."
"Excuses, excuses!" Bing yelled. "I didn't offer you shit! You said you wanted to fly it but I denied it and then YOU just pushed me aside like a little doll"
"What!?" Preston exclaimed. "You're shifting the blame to me!"
"That's enough from both of you!" the General said.
"But you can't listen to him, he was drunk!"
"Drunk or not, you flew the helicopter," the General said. "Therefore, I am sending you to B-Company. You will be shipped there tomorrow. This meeting is adjourned."

Shit, Preston thought. Can't be as bad as this, right?