Winter poured over her notes, trying to determine how to follow up Garbo's cunning.
Oh my Monty.
-"Who may give me the record for the land navigation challenge?"
.
A crusty old Master Sargeant replied without bothering to ask for permission.
-"I hold the second-best time at 7 hours, 43 minutes. A cheater hogs the spot."
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Winter gave it some thought, but in the end, would be productive to have another give his point of view. She could always straighten the facts after.
-"Please, could you retell how that record was achieved?"
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She received a sharp nod from the Master Sergeant.
He stood up and opened his arms wide.
"So, no shit, there I was with my battle buddy Karl "Lazy" Arc. We are drinking some beers by the river, watching how the water moved some plates attached to the grill. He made the setup so he wouldn't even move to grill it, he was lazy like that.
We are listening to the sizzling noise from the hog and the aroma of red meat kissed by the fire. We started bitching about the Land Navigation test and how much it sucked."
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Winter peeled her ears open. Few historians show those mundane sides of the heroes of the bloodline.
.
The veteran NCO had his audience enraptured.
-"He asked for another beer. The cooler was between us. But as I said, he was lazy like that.
I opened the beer cooler and grabbed a can. I eyed him.
And proceeded to shake the ever-living shit outta that can. With Oum Mounty as my witness, I danced a true to life malambo, gyrating, jumping, rolling, all the nine yards.
Then I went down on my knee. Your highness, Lord Protector of Vale, Shield of Faunus, I bring your beverage."
.
Crass, but he got us hanging by his very word.
.
-"He eyed the open beer cooler where other non-explosive beer shaped warheads rested.
He stared me dead in the eye.
It is Lord Protector of the Faunus, Shield of Vale, Karl Von Arc.
He grabbed the vibrating explosive ordnance from my hands and with one swift move, he ripped the safety ring from that grenade like a Drill Sargeant tears trainees apart.
The malambo powered beer poured all that unrestrained power in a vertical launch. But Karl was holding the beer with the ejection port upwards.
Hence the unbridled power of that missile was pushing the can down. Towards his nether regions."
.
A cacophony of snorts, chuckles, and snorts broke the already flimsy military decorum.
.
-"While he laid curled in a fetal position, I got another beer for myself and relished in the Pfsshhtt it gives.
That's it!
I eyed him, still curled-up, holding the family jewels.
We can use a rocket and avoid the trip!
Till this very day, every time I see some hunter being deployed in a combat zone in those launchers, I remember that lazy sunofabicth."