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Thes hyars Sage, Commander of the Special Air Operations Squadron SBSS Air Cav outside the UB-1-2 Balhawk, on the ground in the jungles of Afgannystan. Capn. thars gaters everwhichware. Kin ya show'em a photer of a gater.
After we done picked up the towels frum the Callyfonicans–makes my insides go wiggly jest to thin on it–we borrowed a bunch of Klucker outfits frum thet KKK feller thet got hisself arrested out Cinncinnati way. So nows our deeskizes are complete. The flight to Afgannystan was a mite uneventful. Thet sattylite navgationul seestem sure is sumthin. Ya just poke in the numbers an set back. Me n the boys got a lot of seven card played.
After'n the nav alarm commenses ta buzzin at the 50 mile point, we done started lookin fur a place ta set down. After'n a good bit alookin, we foun a big circle wherens sumbodies cut down a bunch a trees ta ranch cattle. We donned our deskize duds an climbed outta the ship. Capn, them Afgannystan peoples don' dress nuthin like we figgured. Fact they don' war nuthin tatall. They jes run round nakeder than a jay bird with'n white paint all oer theysownselves. Kinda look like whitewarshed Injuns.
Anyhoo, the Afgannystan peoples sure seemed friendly enough-- laughin n pointin. But we run inta a mite of difficulty when Slim kinda kicked atta youngun thet kept a sneekin up an spinnin his spurs. He done got hisself shot with sticker thorn frum a big long sody straw. Twas the dangedest thang I ever seed. Ol' Slim kinda jerked hisself into a ball an fell on his ass kinda balancin on one butt cheek. Then he commenses ta shaken and bouncin, then flops limper then a sketty noodle. Than sum Afganny commenses a whoopin an a hollerin behine us an when we turn back, ol' Slim twernt thar namore.
Bout thet time we run into an Afganny woman who speaks American purdy good–though she said thet she aint never heard nobody spik it like me before. Anyhoo, she goes on ta tellus thet she learnt American frum a missionary and thet if'n we had a hankerin ta git ol Slim back we hadda talk with thes feller. Well, Capn, gettin ol Slim back was worse then gettin a New Jersee carry permit. First we splained everthan to one feller then he taked us to nother feller an we had ta splain it all over agin. Then he taked us ta nother feller who done taked us ta nother feller. They always started with the same wurds. "Stoopeeda Sommabichie." which the Afganny lady said meant sumthin like, "Man, ya gotta hear thes."
Finally, we gotta see sum feller they called the Elder. He was kinda like the big chief or sumthin, so I had Crickside write down what we jawboned bout. It was purdy easy cause it had ta be translated ta American an back.
"Greetings Afganny people. Great Afganny leader." I sayd. "I come from America. The Afganny people taint our enemy tatall."
The Elder feller was jest kinda lookin' at me. I looked back at im ta show im I wernt afeared.
"We would like ta get our man Slim back."
Than the Elder feller says, "How do you propose to do that?"
I figgured thet might come up so I was prepared. "I'll trade you thes hyar Willie Nelson CD fur im."
Well thes Elder feller took the CD outta the case and stuck it on his fanger upside down an ganders at the r'flection frum the sun. Than he says, "I've seen enough. Give him his friend back." Then the Elder gits up real slow like and starts a walkin' away. Well sir, after'n bout five steps he kinda staggers and commences ta giggling. Not a giggle like he got the best of trade–which he'd didn't cause thet CD weren't thet good–but a giggle like he jest figgured out the funnybone of a joke. Then he snorts a couple of times then commences ta heehaw like a jackass bouncin down a rocky slide. Then he kinda falls ta one knee, still a heehawin, and rolls onta his back. Then two other fellers come n grab his arms an drag im off into one of them grass shacks, a heehawin all the way.
Anywoo, thet Afganny lady says thet ol Slim will wake hisself up sum time tomorrow.
What? Tarnation, Wiskey, caint ya see I'm reportn ta the Capn. All _____t,ya kin spik yur piece. Nope, I gots my fanger on the mute ______on. The Capn caint hyar a thang. Whatcha mean ya don thin we're in the rat place. I used thet sateelite seestem. Well I put in the lattytude more or less, then I put in the longeetude more or less. Whall, I didn wanna go all the way ta Kandoohar. I jest wanted ta git close. So I only put in the numbers more or less. Of course I put them in rat. I pushed the number than I pushed the more or less key. The more or less key! The one rat here with the +/- on it. Change sign? What the... Whar the hell we at? BRAZIL!
Crickside round up the boys. We gotta light a shuck pronto.
Capn, Sorry but sumthins come up. Gotta get. Thes hyars Sage, Commander of the Special Air Operations Squadron SBSS Air Cav outside the UB-1-2 Balhawk, on the ground in the jung, uh, location classyfied.
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