it comes in pints?

Trip Report

As those of you who paid attention may have noticed, I was missing in action for a couple of weeks. I couldn't give any information beforehand because it was a mission vital to national security. Since the mission has come to a (largely) successful conclusion, I can now divulge heretofore unreleased details of our trek.

My partner and I began our mission at the foul cesspool of anti-American corruption known as the Barbary Coast. There we boarded a top secret new stealth vessel and made our way cautiously 'neath the Bridge of Death. Not knowing just what awaited us, but knowing it could be rough going, we fortified ourselves for the journey.

The going was even rougher than expected, though not as turbulent as for our comrades further east. Provisions were adequate, but I soon discovered that I would have to forego my preferred medicine and stick to lesser breeds. It is a sacrifice I willingly made. I hope you back home appreciate it.

Our first stop was at the former home of a major American entrepreneur. We scouted the ground for several hours, familiarizing ourselves with the terrain, before continuing on.

We spent days at sea in cramped quarters. Little to do. Ennui. The sacrifices and risks we accept for the folks at home are great. but we shoulder the burden gladly.

Finally, we touched down on foreign soil. That's where we me our first great danger: pirates. Fortunately, after only a brief outbreak of violence, we won them over and sailed with them to a secluded cove. There we donned native garb and mixed freely among populace, dined on local cuisine and traditional aliments, learned some of their quaint customs and folk dances, performed to a strange and exotic melody with the odd title of "Macho Man". Truly, a unique people.

After leaving our newfound pirate friends, we sailed north to the land of deer. There we made contact with the local air force before making our way to the traditional meeting place. We wandered the coastal area for a couple of hours, observing the indigenous population and imbibing more local beverages, before returning to our vessel in the traditional native chariot.

Again northward, ever northward. Here I put together an ad hoc unit of intrepid volunteers to capture an elusive terrorist. Sadly, the one failure of the entire mission was that we did not locate this evil mastermind, though members of my unit managed to take down some of his confederates.

Our foreign adventure nearing its conclusion, we at last returned to American soil. Our vessel moored next to a piece of American history. A brief tour of the area, and we returned to our starting point in the world's largest outdoor lunatic asylum.

Upon our escape from that armpit of the western hemisphere, I again traveled north, spending the weekend in search of terrorists. The patrol was unsuccessful but battling the elusive blacktail gang is an ongoing campaign. My nerves are steeled, my knife is sharp, my rifle is accurate, and I'm heading back next weekend.

Posted by Ken S at October 24, 2005 03:39 PM | TrackBack (0) |