2 – Johnny Jump-Up
You had to give Johnny Jump-Up some credit. Who else would rig up his entire room in the St. Barbara's Mental Institution with authentic posters begging for war bonds, historically accurate maps, and mobiles of ten different air strikes? Man had dedication – as shown by his shelf of hard-earned, hand-made medals of valor. There was Andrew Sisters crooning and even a functioning tin coffeepot. Mr. Pine sampled some. It tasted like turpentine, but Mr. Pine suspected that was the point.
When Mr. Pine arrived it turned out to be the recess hour of the mental patients. Johnny Jump-Up had already proved himself an able leader. He had eight of the other patients lined up, terrified, as he lectured them on the philosophy of "If Fighting is Sure To Result In Victory, Then You Must Fight!"
"Sons, who said that?" Johnny Jump-Up demanded, rhetorically. "And I think he knows a leetle bit more about fighting than you do, buddy-boy, because he invented it!"
"He's absolutely barking mad," the head of St. Barbara's assured Mr. Pine.
"I know. That doesn't deter me."
"… And then he perfected it so that no man living or dead could best him in the ring of honor!"
"… In fact, I find it rather charming."
"I ask again, sons, who said that? No guesses? None? I'm not surprised. It was only the greatest Chinese American hero alive, Sun-Tzu! Now what do you say to that?"
In the testing grounds, Johnny Jump-Up performed with stupendous morale, unassailable grit, and moderate amounts of cunning. Mr. Pine was pleased. If not a great on-the-ground thinker, he was a fearless fellow who could rally other people around him and follow a plan. He'd make as good a leader as anybody. And St. Barbara's was a lot easier to negotiate with than Soviet Russia, that was certain.
Johnny Jump-Up, for his part, was downright delighted to be recruited at last in an army – the words 'elite' and 'top-secret' and 'all-American' only made him giddier. His entire room was unpacked in an hour. As he rode away in the car next to his new employer, he said brusquely, "Now I am awful honored to be serving with you and what I'm sure are my fine teammates, but I have to let you know – there's three kinds of people I won't serve with. Women," he held up a thick finger, "Faggots," another finger, "and goddamn foreigners. Especially not Communist Ruskies."
"Ah," said Mr. Pine. "Ah-ha. Well. Er. What about supers?"
"All Supers are faggots, so they fall into cater-gory two."
"Excellent. Well, supers is the only thing I'm worried about, Mr. Jump-Up, so I'm sure we'll be just fine…"
Author's Note:
Thank you for reading! This chapter gets a sterner rating than previous ones on account of language. Tune in next time!