SCRA Recruitment Centre

[bluntpencil2001]

Ignoring the crying man on the floor, the Commissar spat out his cigar, stamping it on the floor,

"Thousand year old tobacco?! Isn't that dangerous!? Dammit, we've plenty of the ol' spic smokes left on the Warship Havana, and they're fresh! Ish."

He sighed, then looked worried.

"Sh*t, Weise, what the hell will the damn boffins say when they hear we've lit up bloody historical artifacts?"

Again, he pointed two guns, one at each applicant, continuing to yell, his vodka-laced breath able to be smelled from outside, most likely,

"What do you both think should be done, regarding this grievous destruction, which is your fault, both of you, of objects of great archaeological importance?! Eh!?"

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