Situation Report
Emergency Communique from SPC Mixon [0258]
The world has erupted into a fit of awesomeness and it is my belief that it is not just happening here but it is my duty only to report on the things which happen here at the headquarters and so my duties I will presently perform.
The snow came in a lightning quick nighttime maneuver and I must admit we were caught somewhat unawares. To make a long story about the beauty of snow short and aggressive we were snowed in. Incapacitated if you will. Yet we survived.
There came to be a large stowage of meaty goods in our freeze box which is some kind of futuristic device that makes life livable here… in the future. And also there were the other performance enhancing goods about like coffee and tobacco so there was no great worry.
While on a routine phone call to the Executive Director of a local financial institution I was received with overwhelming positivity towards my grant proposal which I had concocted that morning while I brewed the coffee. The details of the proposal are currently considered classified. The money, it seems, is ours for the taking.
Score one for the banditos.
To defend against the possibility of running out of papers I geared up for an extreme cold weather force march to the “local” gas station. While on my two mile walk through knee high snow (which I came to enjoy very much until I didn’t) I stopped into the local antique store. I came across the acquaintance of an older Irish woman whom I feel safe to call a “hippy.” She smelled of whiskey and radiated happiness. I asked her about an old Singer sewing machine. She says its sixty dollars. Then she starts asking me about me so I tell her about me and she smiled. Then she demanded a hug. Then she offered to drive me home with the sewing machine insisting that I pay her later even though I offered to pay her immediately. I shoveled her car out for her. It was the least I could do. She insisted that I take a fancy shirt and a Cardigan. They both suit me handsomely. I loaded up the sewing machine and she drove us up the hill and she came in and she hugged. But the key to the box for the machine had gone missing. Oh dear. With one look outside I knew that winter had swallowed the key whole and later some street sweeper would come and he or she would be sweeping the street and they would sweep our key up and take it away and we would forever own a beautiful sewing machine locked inside of a beautiful box and for one second all the tragedy of it was enough to make both of us laugh. We openly decided that we had bonded through the experience.
I am forced to admit, and submit for review, the presence of magics.
When she let me out in front of the Sanctuary, our yellow headquarters on the top of the hill, at my feet was the key. It is old and it is big.
I had begun to tell her, though I didn’t mean to, about all of the keys that I’ve been responsible for along the course of my life and how I’ve never lost any of them. Ever. Take that Sergeant Major Mendez you shit headed devil. Sputnik Mixon is too good at what he does and if you give him keys then the master of keys he will become. But I digress…
So there’s the key. And the box has been opened and now she is out there sitting beautifully on the pedestal that was made for her. A perfect machine. I made a vow to her right there in the foyer as I was dusting her off to learn her every piece and part and to keep them clean and to treat her as if she were part of my own body, or even more so given my poor personal hygiene habits. Gertrude.
I’m going to learn to sew. We all will. We must. There is about a mile of Egyptian Cotton sitting in our paper studio right now and if we do not sew it all into something Daisy May will eat it all in a matter of weeks. Especially with Nate at the wheels of pulp production. The man is a monster. He never stops. He’s been taken over by some kind of paper making mania the likes of which I’ve never seen and have only ever heard about as myth. I fear that we will be drowned in paper before the summer ever comes.
To all front lines personnel, to Alpha Squad and Bravo Detachment, to the envoys of the Federation, and the Boo Road Boys, but most of all to MotorCycle Awesome: We have a green light on Operation: Moonladder. Climb.
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The Paper Trail 