What would you do if you woke up in another country and no one could understand you?

Well, after panic subsides I’d figure out some form of communication with the locals. I ask “¿Donde esta el baño?” of course, the generic language testing phrase. They reply with seemingly gibberish characters. In other words, I don’t think this keyboard is able to convey their response. It’s gonna be a long day…

So I’m walking along what seems to be their main street. I pass a few food stands selling live squid. They’re all squirming and gross, and when I see a couple eating them I gag a little. After I gather my wits I continue walking. Again, another obscure food-selling stand. This time, a yellowish sea-urchin looking item. It’s gonna be a long day…

It all started just days before the Canoe Trip. We had been walking peacefully down Ashland street, collecting intel for our new mission. Conversation stopped abruptly as Lieutenant Cory noticed a troop of combatants on the horizon. Our men quickly sprung into positions for some serious whoop-a**. Unfortunately, due to bureaucratic commands we were forced to hold fire. As a result, our opponents promptly took the opportunity to attack. We scrambled, some obeyed orders, others fought back, and hard. I was about to open fire, but suddenly realized something. The pool…

Because of a mishap two years earlier, back in 1948, infantry units are now issued with a hand-held catapult. Its operated by two men, one aiming, the other readying the machine. I called over my comrade, Lieutenant Seebeck, to assist me with the catapult. I told him my plan. He replied, “Are you nuts?” Now the chains were building up tension, and just as I was about to fire, I noticed we hadn’t loaded the sling with ammunition. So, we quickly began to search for a large projectile, because the catapult is issued standard, the ammo is not.

I informed Lieutenant Cory of our situation and after numerous debacles he brought up the idea of using some force of leverage to detach a fire-hydrant from the ground. “Good idea,” I said, “But where will we gain the leverage?” Seebeck had the answer.

As I had been talking with Cory, Lieutenant Seebeck was in the nearby field, using his beastliness to push over and drag a park bench over to where we were standing. I asked him why he couldn’t have used that power to rip the fire-hydrant. He said that it would’ve been too easy. So we all helped him place the bench on its side, under the fire-hydrants lip and began standing on one end of it. We heard wood cracking beneath our feet but kept going. And with one gigantic leap from Lieutenant Cory we heard a pop like a bottle cap. I stepped off the bench and walked over to the fire-hydrant–or where there used to be one. It was now rolled on its side, in the street gutter. Seebeck, again using sheer beast-power lifted the heavy soon-to-be-shot-in-to-the-air object into the catapult’s sling. We were ready.

I manned the controls of the catapult, and before I could pull the trigger, one of our enemies invaded my bubble. Luckily Lieutenant Cory was there to shoot a numbing Stupidity Beam straight into my attacker’s cranium. “Nice one, thanks.” I told him. Now back to business.

Finally, it was our time for victory. The battle was fought hard. We had lost two men, one of which was Admiral Sarah. So with one last gush of awesomeness my comrades and I shot the fire-hydrant straight into the opposing side. One man screamed as the rocketing metal object flew past him, clipping off his genitals. The enemies were flung into the air when the fire-hydrant hit them. They soared overhead, eventually landing in the nearby park’s swimming pool. Commander Heidel ordered one of our men to unhook the pool’s ladder, inhibiting their escape. “A job well done, boys,” Heidel says, “A job well done.”

The End