To: [color=#FFFFFF]The Vacuum loving VCR Comm. ID:Commissar Leon Mendel Priority:HIGH Subject:A Matter of setting who is who
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Dearest General *coughs* Blackbrood... Flood.... Rudd? Never mind I am sure you have a serial number stamped on your rear end somewhere. Right above the "Made in Kusari" stamp.
Any ways, I am sure that congratulations are in order... for something... not that it has actually been news worthy, or even that memorable. But I am sure that will change now that you are in charge of motivating the muppet babies and morons that compromise the fighter corps... fighter... ha, that would imply they actually could do more than writhe around in agony shot a few dozen times by their own comrades.
For the love of all things Red, point them at the enemy next time, and not at each other?
Now, you amazing pile of recycled cans of dog food, slapped together with duct tape and the odd transister... the last great speach you delivered ran something to the effect of "Danger-Danger Will Robinson," while you flailed your arms around in a desperate attempt to fend some creepy old man off of a pre-teen boy woefully unsupervised by his moron parents... oh wait that was an old Television show... I guess I haven't seen a motivational speech out of you at all then.
You've been placed in a trusted position, one that answers to the Premier's office itself. One that, were you to balls up, I am sure will be more than sufficient for me to stuff you into a little blue box and leave you on the curb for the next junker pick up.
Catch my drift?
Make certain you don't confuse the Communist manifesto for a book of Sudoku, and send our men out with the wonderful motivation that 4+4 = 8, that kind of complicated maths is truly beyond them... would be better if we'd actually employed some of old Commissar Whack-a-doodle's Primusian Monkeys... least they can add.