"Stand by for shit to get stupid."
In the opinion of this Marine, Baghdad was likely more interesting than the inside of his eyelids, but he dozed regardless. Three weeks into this bitch and he was finally in the back seat of the Humvee, letting Walt lead the team through the dusty streets. It was never really an issue who drove the thing, three weeks in and nobody had a license anyway. He hummed a little in his sleep, probably asking God to make sure the retards in the back never got one.
Trailers for sale or rent, rooms to let, fifty cents--his head leaned just out the window and he woke, breathing deep, blinking--
--the seat dropped out from under him, and there was a moment of blind panic, maybe Walt drove them right into a fucking mine, but then he landed on the ground and his gear poked and prodded him, clashed together and clicked, all of him, and it, intact. Fully awake now, he looked around. "How long was I asleep," he said, expecting the others to be nearby, "Did we drive all the way to somewhere awesome?" It wasn't the desert they'd started in, or even one of the oasis they'd driven through later on, straight up through Mesopotamia. Similar enough, but almost milder, and even less developed. No signs of a road, no telephone wires, and after a minute, he thought he could smell the ocean. No one answered his question quickly enough, and when he turned, he found nothing but a Ferris wheel. He nearly dropped his rifle in surprise.
"Holy shit, we invaded Coney Island!"
[Cpl. Ray Person fresh from the Iraq conflict, if fresh can refer to someone who hasn't slept or bathed in weeks. See his wiki page for a better idea of all the shit he's carrying on him. First person explains, anyone else can find him wandering around.]
Trailers for sale or rent, rooms to let, fifty cents--his head leaned just out the window and he woke, breathing deep, blinking--
--the seat dropped out from under him, and there was a moment of blind panic, maybe Walt drove them right into a fucking mine, but then he landed on the ground and his gear poked and prodded him, clashed together and clicked, all of him, and it, intact. Fully awake now, he looked around. "How long was I asleep," he said, expecting the others to be nearby, "Did we drive all the way to somewhere awesome?" It wasn't the desert they'd started in, or even one of the oasis they'd driven through later on, straight up through Mesopotamia. Similar enough, but almost milder, and even less developed. No signs of a road, no telephone wires, and after a minute, he thought he could smell the ocean. No one answered his question quickly enough, and when he turned, he found nothing but a Ferris wheel. He nearly dropped his rifle in surprise.
"Holy shit, we invaded Coney Island!"
[Cpl. Ray Person fresh from the Iraq conflict, if fresh can refer to someone who hasn't slept or bathed in weeks. See his wiki page for a better idea of all the shit he's carrying on him. First person explains, anyone else can find him wandering around.]