As Commander Weise rounded the corner, he saw two men, one in an orange prison jumpsuit with a large red stain on the seat, and another in an orange pilot's jumpsuit with several scorch marks, and a large rip in the sleeve. Sadly, they were staring at the dummy commissar he'd set up, just to catch such dimwitted knumbskulls as these. Drawing his pistol, he yelled down the hall.
"Hey! You, in the orange!"
As they turned in dim-witted unison, he sighed, and gave them their last warning.
"As soon as I shoot one of you, the other one gets to run away. Okay?"
They looked towards each other, then back to him. The one in the prison-suit began to stutter,
"Uuuh, Sir, I'm, uuh..." Blam! Blamblamblamblam!
Eugen re-holstered his pistol, and wandered away, humming to himself, as the bodies of Slavko and Qiwei bounced off the floor.
"Something about orange coveralls just makes my day."
Jack Handey Wrote:I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without hate. And I can picture us attacking that world, because they'd never expect it.
