Drop Kick

Sitting in the mission briefing he felt violently angry.  That’s right – not just upset, but murderously, viciously, inhumanely aggravated.

It had been a combat experiment.  His lack of impulse control had been amplified.  It was thought that this would make him a better combat soldier.  He would be a machine, not having to think – his reflexes would take over.  He would shoot to kill before anyone could touch him.

Now he was in the briefing, being told about the mission plan and he was just getting hotter.  He felt like he was going to explode.  They were proud of him.  They didn’t know what was going to happen.  According to their plan he would be briefed, he would go behind enemy lines and do some real damage.  Yeah, he was going to teach the enemy a lesson they would never forget.

They had planned on making more of him too.  It was all about brain manipulation.  They would suppress certain emotions in the next batch.  They would turn off fear and amplify anger.  They would create battle ready machines.  It was a much better idea than robots.  Robots were still basically dumb.  There was no AI and there might not be for a long time.  Things hadn’t progressed as well as the computer nerds had thought.

But this – whoa what a plan.

He sat there trying to read the screen.  Someone was sitting in the row in front of him with their huge egg head in his way.  He could see the part in the abnormally straight hair on that goddam head.  It was so stupidly perfect.  The head kept bobbing in front of him, turning in the same direction that he was trying navigate to see the goddam mission plan on the goddam board.

That godawful ugly part ridden big huge head.  Why couldn’t the guy have sat somewhere else?  Why would he pick such a stupid spot right in front, blocking the goddam view?  There were spare seats on the other side.  Hell, there were spare seat everywhere but this clown had to sit right in front of him.

He couldn’t take it anymore.  He got up from his seat and began to walk back towards the entrance to the room.

“What are you doing soldier?” the sergeant called out at him.  The officer motioned toward the sergeant to let it go.  “He’s special, ” the officer whispered, “Don’t worry about him.  We want to see his reaction.”

“Yes sir, ” the sergeant responded unevenly.  It was to no avail anyway.  The strange soldier had already left the room.

The mission briefing continued.  The officer hoped that the soldier would be back soon.  He was an experiment but he needed to know what to do.  No matter.  He could always brief the soldier again later.  It was an important scientific experiment.  They had to let him do what he wanted and just observe him for the time being.  They could always abort anyway and save it for another day.

The officer was relieved as the soldier walked briskly back into the room.  The officer wasn’t relaxed for long.  Suddenly there was roaring sound as the soldier quickly approached the man who had been sitting in front of him.

The tall man with the parted hair didn’t get to say much.  The soldier lifted the chainsaw above his shoulders and sliced the man’s head off in a single stroke.

“Get out of my goddam way you bean-headed, part ridden slime.  I can”t see!  Get it!” the soldier was shouting.  The man’s torso collapsed in the chair.  His head rolled towards the front of the room.  Everyone was aghast.

Oh well, back to the drawing board.


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