The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any GI Joe characters is out voting. Once again ColdFusion 180 and I both wrote this story. Since this is an election year we get double the madness!
Know Your Joe: Leatherneck and Wet Suit
"Man, this is the most disgraceful load of rotten, worm-infested fish bait I've ever seen," Shipwreck groaned at the TV. "Nothing but violence, corruption, depravity, idiocy and disgrace with every passing second. And the language, whew! These bozos are using words that are making even me blush! Yikes!"
"Then maybe you should stop watching those kinds of last-rate movies," Lady Jaye suggested entering the Recreation Room. Several other Joes were gathered there as well. "Before they finally succeed in wiping out your last remaining brain cell."
"Oh, this isn't a movie," Shipwreck corrected. "It's a discussion slash talk show slash debate about America's latest political situation. Well, more like a brawl…"
"How could a political discussion be a…?" Duke did a double take. "Oh. Okay then. Wow. Didn't think they were allowed to show that kind of violence on TV. That wasn't cable."
"This is cable," Shipwreck pointed out. "It's SBO's Politics After Dark."
Duke blinked. "That explains why one of the pundits is pummeling the other with a chair. And not the folding kind."
Low Light remarked. "I've seen less blood in a slasher movie."
"Oh, that's not all blood," Shipwreck corrected him. "A lot of that is wine."
"Another piece of the puzzle," Low Light realized. "I've always wondered how some candidates could possibly defend the positions of their parties and some of the other candidates."
"That and bribes," Alpine explained. "Now you know."
"And knowing makes me glad I'm not in politics," Low Light remarked. "Wow that's a good right hook."
Lady Jaye raised an eyebrow at Shipwreck. "Why are you ever bothering to watch that kind of pointless display of absurdity?"
"Because he's being punished after causing the Flying Butterscotch and Exploding Inner Tube incident this morning," Flint explained. "He had a choice: either watch this or serve as B.A's official taste tester for the next month."
"Ouch," Alpine winced seated at a nearby table with Sci-Fi, Dial Tone and Bazooka. "Talk about harsh."
"I'll say. And I'm not talking about my cruel and unusual punishment either," Shipwreck grumbled pointing at the TV. "This is show is nuts! There are more taunts, lies, insults and name-calling being shot off than at a schoolyard fight. And the political candidates aren't managing to get any words in either."
"How can they with their respective campaign advisors yelling over the screaming commentators?" Duke commented. "Along with getting into the occasional fist fight?"
"Are those torches?" Bazooka gasped as he pointed at the screen.
"Oh yeah," Sci-Fi blinked. "And an actual flamethrower. I've heard of flame wars but…"
"This is ridiculous," Beach Head shook his head in disgust. "If these wackos are supposed to be America's best political figures, the country's civilian so-called 'leadership' really is going to you know where in a handbasket."
"Forget the handbasket," Shipwreck remarked. "We've been upgraded to a private limo. With poisoned champagne!"
"Are you kidding? Stuff like this has been going on for years," Dial Tone noted. "Granted things have gotten a lot more intense lately, but politicians and their respective political party backers have always been at each other's throats. Remember the duel between Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr?"
Lady Jaye winced at what she saw. "That seems civilized compared to this."
Dial Tone kept explaining. "In the 1800's there were actual riots in the streets, including instances of murder as well as tarring and feathering."
Shipwreck added. "Not to mention that little Civil War we had back then couldn't have helped."
Dial Tone went on. "President Lincoln was assassinated. So was Kennedy. Ronald Regan was actually shot and almost assassinated. As was Theodore Roosevelt. He was shot but he still did a campaign speech anyway. Andrew Jackson, William Howard Taft, Franklin Roosevelt, Herbert Hoover, both Bushes, Clinton…Hell nearly every single president was a target at least once!"
Bazooka whistled. "Boy that really is a dangerous job."
Dial Tone went on. "In the 1970's a lot of fringe groups committed hundreds of violent acts in order to influence voters. Or outright intimidate them. As well as some in the 80s', 90's and…You get the picture. This has been going on a long time. The only difference is that these days they literally are at each other's throats. And it's on cable."
"And I thought the Dreadnoks were dysfunctional," Alpine said. "At least those guys have fights that make sense."
"They fight over which candy and sodas are the best," Flint looked at him.
"Exactly," Alpine nodded.
"You have a point," Flint admitted.
"Political stunts like these are really difficult to watch," Duke sighed in disappointment. "Why are people willing behave like this? Whatever happened to acting with decency, responsibility and showing fellow human beings a basic amount of respect?"
"Do you even have to ask?" Roadblock gave him a look. "Getting political animals and attention seekers like these to act reasonable and sane ain't no easy task."
Lady Jaye sighed. "We ache for presidencies like Jeb Bartlett but instead we got Selena Meyer. Both male and female versions!"
"Who are we kidding?" Shipwreck quipped. "I aspire to Selena Meyer. We have a country full of Jonah Ryans in the House and Senate!"
"Less Jonah Ryans," Alpine agreed. "More Richart Spletts."
"What?" Duke asked.
"Watch Veep Duke," Dial-Tone told him. "It's frighteningly prophetic. Including the swears."
"I swear, watching government members, political candidates and their ilk act like idiots really makes me lose faith in the whole principle of 'government of, by and for the people'," Low Light muttered. "I'm tempted to just go down and knock all their empty heads together until they finally decide to act like the responsible guardians of democracy they're supposed to be."
"You aren't the only one," Beach Head agreed. "I'd love to have the lot of those thin-skinned whiners out on the obstacle course."
"Replace that with a debate," Alpine added.
"I'd watch that," Bazooka nodded.
"Me too," Roadblock added. "That is true!"
"Whoa, hold on! Enough with that kind of talk," Duke warned. "There's a reason why the American military prides and dedicates itself to being strictly non-political. If we started interfering with or intimidating members of the country's civilian leadership, we'd be no better than Cobra or any other wannabe dictatorship."
"You mean like Fang Face's latest farce?" Shipwreck quipped.
"The real farce is that he actual sounds saner on some things than the real political candidates," Alpine groaned.
"Really, Duke?" Low Light stared at him. "You're telling me you've never been tempted to grab some self-serving member of Congress or presidential candidate and shake them like a rag doll while screaming at them to come to what little passes for their senses?"
"I can't and won't say anything of the sort," Duke stated formally. "No matter how much I may hypothetically want or dream about saying such a deserving and satisfying thing, I can't. Sorry."
"Right," Low Light smirked. "Got it."
"Way to abide by military regulations, Duke," Lady Jaye quipped. "Great example on how to bend the rules."
"Yeah, so for the love of Davy Jones show some mercy and bend the rules some more," Shipwreck pleaded gesturing to the TV. "I swear anything else is better than watching this junk!"
Just then the TV fizzed and abruptly switched to a different broadcast. "Hello, everybody! It's time for yet another fun and insightful edition of Know Your Joe!" Short Fuse called out.
"I stand corrected," Shipwreck groaned.
"Oh no," Low Light moaned. "Not again!"
"Oh yes," Flint groaned. "Again…"
"I, of course, am your ever-loving and ever-present host Short Fuse," Short Fuse's beaming face appeared while seated at a desk. "And with me as always is my eternal buddy and forever co-host Quick Kick!"
"If only both of those maniacs' very existences were temporary and forgotten," Flint sighed.
"Yes, it's me!" Quick Kick grinned sitting next to Short Fuse. "Faster, handsomer and better than ever!"
"That's not saying much," Shipwreck scoffed.
"Look who's talking," Low Light gave him a look.
"We've got a great guest lined up for today's show," Short Fuse smiled. "A man who certainly needs no introduction, but we'll give him one away!"
"I've love to give those two lunatic yahoos the boot," Beach Head cursed. "And I'm not speaking idiomatically."
"Because this show is run by idiots," Lady Jaye quipped.
"Yes, here he is friends!" Quick Kick pounded out a drumroll with his hands. "The one, the only: Leatherneck!"
"Just when I think it couldn't get any worse," Duke moaned. "It does…"
"Hey there!" Leatherneck boomed appearing on the screen. "I'm Gunnery Sergeant Leatherneck and I'm here to tell the truth!"
"That'll be a first," Low Light quipped.
"Oh boy, somebody please go and lower the boom," Roadblock moaned. "This show is certain to end in doom!"
"Yeah, for us," Shipwreck noted. "What else is new?"
"Well, that's exactly what we're hoping for," Short Fuse said readying his notes. "So, let's get started!"
"Let's not," Dial Tone begged. "Please!"
"Where's General Hawk?" Alpine asked. "Didn't he say he didn't want to watch this show anymore?"
"He did," Flint realized. "He just left the base. Oh, that's why he was driving so fast…"
"Now, your real name is Wendell A. Metzger, correct?" Short Fuse asked.
"That's right," Leatherneck confirmed. "I was the roughest, toughest, meanest guy ever to be born in Stromsburg, Nebraska. And I'm talking tough! My mother was in labor with me for over seventy-two hours."
"Your mother was in labor for three days?" Quick Kick gasped in shock.
"Yep," Leatherneck nodded. "Fitting since she was and still is the roughest, toughest, meanest gal in the whole dang world! In a nice, caring, motherly way of course."
"That explains a lot," Lady Jaye remarked. "Talk about a hard birth."
"I see," Short Fuse blinked. "Gotta say I'm surprised to hear you apparently took your sweet time being born. Especially considering your reputation for having absolutely no patience with those who are lazy and indecisive."
"Eh, everybody has their faults early in life," Leatherneck shrugged. "Even me. My mother always said I was loud, rough, uncouth, opinionated, and overbearing. Just like her."
"Another piece of the puzzle," Duke noted.
"One of my favorite memories is the day the two of us beat the local Boy Scout Troop," Leatherneck sighed. "Literally."
"Yikes," Lady Jaye winced.
"Why?" Quick Kick asked.
"Oh, she was having a feud with the scoutmaster," Leatherneck explained. "He was a weenie. Said I wasn't good enough for his scouts. Then I whipped their butts. While Mom beat up the scoutmaster!"
"Yeah, but you beating up a bunch of little kids…" Short Fuse paused.
"Little? I was eight years old and the youngest kid in that pack was 12!" Leatherneck explained. "Some of them were in high school. And they still couldn't fight their way out of a paper bag!"
"You beat up a bunch of older bigger kids when you were only eight?" Quick Kick gulped.
"To be fair not all of them," Leatherneck admitted. "Half of them ran away screaming louder than Cobra Commander when I bit that one guy's ear. Didn't even try to fight me. Mom was so proud. We went out for hot fudge sundaes after that. And then went on a trip to Kansas City to hide from the cops for a few weeks. Good times.
"Maybe Leatherneck should introduce his mother to Beach Head?" Shipwreck quipped. "From the sounds of it, I bet they'd hit it off like a house on fire."
"More like each other," Sci-Fi snickered.
"Ha, ha, very funny," Beach Head glared.
"Great, just what we need. Two Beach Heads around here," Alpine groaned. "Even worse, two Leathernecks!"
"Brrr, scary," Bazooka shivered.
"Yep, my mother helped mold me into the man I am today," Leatherneck boasted proudly. "Thanks to her, I was the hardest gunny who ever slogged through the mud and muck of Camp Lejeune."
"And now we know who to blame," Roadblock groaned.
"And knowing is…" Dial Tone began.
"Why the Pit's aspirin requisition requests outnumber those for food, targets and ammo," Duke sighed. "Combined!"
"Okay," Quick Kick nodded. "So, are there any more interesting stories about your childhood…?"
"And by interesting he means psychotic," Shipwreck quipped.
"And before that, I was the toughest drill sergeant on Paris Island," Leatherneck said.
"That's nice," Short Fuse attempted to interrupt. "But let's get back to…"
"And before that, I was the roughest tech sergeant of the 1st Recon Battalion," Leatherneck went on.
"Fascinating," Quick Kick deadpanned. "Now, how about hearing…"
"And before that, I was the meanest corporal in Gitmo," Leatherneck declared. "Compared to that, any civilian badness just doesn't count."
"If only we could count Leatherneck out," Low Light muttered. "Not to mention this stupid show!"
"Yep, I'm darn proud to be a U.S. Marine," Leatherneck puffed up with pride. "The most famed and legendary unit ever to…mmmppphhh!"
"Huh?" Dial-Tone blinked as Leatherneck was suddenly yanked out of view. "What was that?"
"It looked like an old-fashioned stage hook," Shipwreck said. "Fashioned out of a really big boarding hook or harpoon. Now if only whoever used that would use it on the other two idiots…"
"Ha! Don't listen to that pompous, blowhard gyrene," Wet Suit appeared in Leatherneck's place. "The real roughest, toughest, meanest bunch around is the renowned unit known world-over as the SEALs!"
"Oh no," Roadblock moaned. "Not this old MO!"
"I knew this was going to happen," Duke sighed. "I knew it…"
"O-kay, looks like we've had a surprise guest crash the show," Short Fuse blinked. "Though we weren't quite done interviewing Leatherneck…"
"You are now," Wet Suit barked. "So on with the show!"
"Do you have too?" Sci-Fi groaned.
Bazooka realized something. "Why are we getting punished? We didn't do anything!"
"Uh, right," Quick Kick gulped fumbling at his notes. "So Wet Suit's real name is…um…"
"Brian M. Forrest," Wet Suit supplied. "Born and raised in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Growing up right next to the sand and sea played a large part in inspiring me to become a SEAL in the first place."
"Great, another random fact I never wanted to know," Low Light muttered.
"Because knowing is…" Bazooka began.
"Half the reason why most of the Joe team is well on the way to becoming alcoholics," Duke groaned pointing at the TV. "And there's the other half!"
"Ya see, SEALs are the ones who are too nasty to be Rangers, Night Stalkers, Delta Troopers or Marines," Wet Suit boasted. "The Navy keeps its SEALs locked up below decks until something bad becomes worse."
"Just like this show," Alpine moaned.
"Once a situation has completely gone to heck, that's when us SEALs get let out of our cages," Wet Suit continued. "Right before being dumped into the soup on a rubber raft with a knife, a gun, and all the ammo and explosives we can carry!"
"That explains the Curry and Sea Worm Soup calamity yesterday," Duke sighed.
"Again, not our fault!" Bazooka spoke up.
"And why I chose to watch TV instead of being B.A.'s taste tester?" Shipwreck added. "Man, did I ever make the wrong choice!"
"I see," Short Fuse commented at Wet Suit's narration. "Well, we all know SEALs are a wild and woolly lot. And that Wet Suit may just be the wildest, woolliest and roughest one of the bunch."
"You bet I am!" Wet Suit puffed up with pride. "I'm tough and unruly and I'm darn proud of it! Why? 'Cause I'm simply the best at what I do!"
"Like being sued for copyright infringement for stealing a famous catch phrase," Flint quipped.
"Eh, like that's never happened to us before," Shipwreck waved.
"But I'm more than just a rough, tough, mean-to-the-bones kind of guy," Wet Suit went on. "I'm also quite intelligent. Unlike certain cerebrally underdeveloped Jarheads I could mention."
"Oh boy," Roadblock groaned. "Wet Suit just can't pass up any opportunity to annoy."
"Obviously," Beach Head grunted.
"I'm well-read in both the classics and standard texts of military strategy and tactics," Wet Suit went on. "Such as Sun Tzu's 'Art of War', Clausewitz's 'On War', Rommel's 'Infantry Attacks', Maurice's' Strategikon'…"
"And Leatherneck's Big Book of Pain!" Leatherneck roared leaping back into view and tackling Wet Suit to the floor. "Of which I'm about to give you a complete demonstration!"
"Ha! Bring it on!" Wet Suit yelled fighting back. "The only books you ever completed were the ones that required crayons!"
"I'll snap your jaw like a crayon, ya lousy, gnarled Flipper Face!" Leatherneck shot back. "Right after I finish beating every inch of your sorry SEAL hide black and blue!"
"And I knew this was going to happen too," Duke remarked. "I really need to find new people to hang around with."
"Oh goodie, another stimulating philosophical debate between Tweedle Dip and Tweedle Dumb," Low Light quipped as Leatherneck and Wet Suit tore into each other. "And things had been so quiet around here."
"Well, it has been nearly three hours since their last fight," Lady Jaye noted. "That's gotta be some kind of record."
"Like how fast they destroyed that desk," Bazooka pointed to the TV.
"Both of those immature nuts are gonna have records after this," Beach Head vowed as Leatherneck and Wet Suit proceeded to destroy a good section of the Pit. "That's if they don't finally manage to kill each other first!"
"Just as long as they don't take the rest of us with them," Duke warned.
"Hey, watch it! Look out! Ahhh!" Short Fuse and Quick Kick cried as they were unwillingly caught up in the melee. "THAT HURTS! OWWW!"
"With two exceptions," Duke allowed.
"This is still better than the political debate," Shipwreck admitted.
"Help! Police! Medic! Wahhhhhh!" Short Fuse and Quick Kick wailed.
"Not by much," Shipwreck added.
"Hey, what the blue blazes is going on in here?" Torpedo and Gung-ho ran into the studio and attempted to intervene. "That's enough! Break it up!"
"Come on, guys! This is ridiculous!" Torpedo said as he struggled to restrain Leatherneck. "Can't you two get along for one day?"
"Yeah, calm down,mon ami," Gung-ho soothed holding Wet Suit back. "Ain't no reason to be going at each other like a pair of mad crayfish…"
"Hey, hands off!" Leatherneck roared punching Gung-ho in the face. "Nobody lays a hand on ol' Frog Legs over here except me!"
"And nobody beats up on my buddy Leatherwreck except me!" Wet Suit snapped tackling Torpedo.
"Well, at least those two finally agree on something," Flint noted as Leatherneck and Wet Suit proceeded to fight with their respective fellow service members. "They're at least making some kind of progress. In a messy, violent, twisted sort of way."
"Is there any other kind?" Alpine quipped.
"NO! HELP! SAVE US! AAAGGGHHHHHH!" Short Fuse and Quick Kick screamed as they futilely attempted to escape from being caught in the crossfire of their brawling teammates. "OW! MY SPLEEN!"
"We should really do something about this," Flint winced.
"Yeah, record it so we have something to watch on weekends," Shipwreck grinned.
"Already on it," Dial Tone smiled as he held the remote.
"Well, so much for trying to avoid watching another violence- and idiotic-filled display of pointlessness and stupidity," Duke sighed as the madness proceed to rage on the screen.
"Still better than any show about current politics," Low Light shrugged.
To those who don't know, Jeb Bartlett was the fictional inspirational president on West Wing.
Selena Meyer in contrast was the fictional self-absorbed incompetent vice president/then president on Veep. Jonah Ryan and Richard Splett were also characters on Veep who offered both bad and good takes on politicians and the political process.
Honestly Veep is more like a cautionary tale turned frightening prophecy! So those who can vote do! Vote for the crazy person of your choice but vote!