Sweet bomb Silly - ebook

Chapter I General Black

On all fronts

It was 5.00 p.m. sharp when general Ashley W.W.W. Black’s jeep drove through the flower decorated gate of the Bombs and Grenades Factory ltd. in Czernievo and stopped in front of the Administration Office. On the doorstep of a small red brick building, there were colonel Henry W.W. Willwood, two nameless majors, four totally meaningless captains and sergeant Malvina ‘Nonpruderia’ Snowbeard, irreplaceable in such situations, waiting for him. When general Black got out of his jeep and stepped on an amaranthine carpet, the sergeant immediately ran towards him and, swaying her hips coquettishly, she chirped:

“Welcome, General, oh, welcome!”

Pleased with himself, general Ashley W.W.W. Black greeted the gathering with a wink, peeped into the contents of sergeant Snowbeard’s shirt and, suddenly raising his hand in a Nazi gesture, he shouted:

“Hello, soldiers! Hello, my invincible crew!”

Colonel Henry W.W. Willwood seemed calmed down with this not so serious behavior of the general. He realized that his superior was in an extremely good mood and there was no need to worry. He remembered quite well the situation from two years ago when, during an annual inspection in the Factory, general Black had impersonated a Roman archer-courtesan, and had provoked many excesses he would be glad to forget.

Colonel Willwood had known general Black for over twenty years and he was aware that the reason for those eccentric acts was some unpleasant incident that had happened a couple of years before, during his peace mission in Afghanistan. Due to his inborn carelessness, general Black got captured and, in compensation for bombing an Afghan village by the Allied Forces, he was forced to pretend to be a goat. And what it means to a heterosexual man, know only the mountain-dwellers who pasture sheep and share with them long weeks of loneliness. When the Allied Forces soldiers finally managed to liberate their brave commander, he was no longer the same man. He started wearing trousers made of the thickest possible fabric accepted by the army, organizing orgies with both wild and domesticated animals, and making up various quizzes for his subordinates, which often resulted in fights. Therefore, seeing his smiling face, colonel Willwood sighed with visible relief and broke from the rank. He stepped forward, saluted and spoke on behalf of the crew:

“Sir! Colonel Henry W.W. Willwood reports unit for inspection. All present, no illnesses, and there’s a first rate welcoming party.”

“At ease”, ordered general Ashley W.W.W. Black. “I hope your papers are in a perfect order, ‘cause I don’t feel like shooting anyone today.”

“Yes, Sir!” Colonel Willwood armed himself with an enormous smile. “Should you, by any chance, change your mind, I have a few officers always at your service.”

“That’s perfect!” General Black rubbed his hands. “But, before we start the inspection, how about a little bet?”

“Excellent idea, General. What sort of bet?”

“Well,” the general started to pick his nose, “don’t worry, Henry. I’ll think of something!”

As he promised, general Black tapped his temple with his finger, peeped at sergeant Malvina ‘Nonpruderia’ Snowbeard’s breasts and sentenced:

“I bet you 100 euros each that you don’t know the color of the carpet I’m standing on!”

“That’s easy, General”, said the colonel. “The carpet is red.”

“False!”, shouted general Black, offended.

“If not red, then it’s purple”, sergeant Snowbeard interjected.

“Wrong! Any other suggestions?”

“I know”, colonel Henry W.W. Willwood patted a nameless major on his back.

“The carpet is coral-red.”

“Missed!” The general almost burst out, laughing. “The last chance!”

“I know”, the sergeant pouted like a film star and dealt a final blow. “It is amaranthine.”

“No, no, no!” General Ashley W.W.W. Black triumphed over the defeated. “Do you want to know the color?”

“Of course, General.” Colonel Willwood didn’t lose his good mood. “Undoubtedly.”

200 euros richer, general Black suddenly turned towards his jeep, called for his driver, lieutenant Cox, and whispered something to his ear. Then he directed his eyes to the hosts and said:

“As I want to play fair, I will say the color of the carpet and lieutenant Cox will decide who is right. OK?”

“Yes, Sir!” Sergeant Malvina ‘Nonpruderia’ Snowbeard gave the winner a hot smile.

“Well,” the general started drooling over his female subordinate, “the carpet is burgundy!”

A golden opportunity

When lieutenant Cox stated that the carpet was burgundy, the crew of the Bombs and Grenades Factory ltd. in Czernievo, lead by colonel Henry W.W. Willwood, shouted out loud ‘Wow’, which was supposed to mean that their representatives did not give the proper answer and they accepted their defeat. Sergeant Malvina ‘Nonpruderia’ Snowbeard started collecting 100 euros from each of the officers, adding her own greenish banknote at the end. Then, she counted the money, adjusted her slightly falling right stocking and approached the general with a smile. Looking into his sparkling eyes, she pouted her lips and said:

“It was an insanity, thinking we could win this bet. Once more, you’ve proved that you are an exceptional leader. Here is your 800 euros.”

“What?” General Black seemed surprised. “But there were only two of you in the competition.”

“That’s right, General.” Sergeant Snowbeard didn’t lose her spirit. “But we’re all like one big family. Each of us was supposed to pay 100 euros, and here it is. That’s why your prize is 800 euros.”

General Ashley W.W.W. Black looked at the officers suspiciously, but he couldn’t find any trace of disagreement on their faces. Thus, he decided to take the money as fast as possible and share the joy with his subordinates. He quickly put the pile of banknotes into his pocket, hopped three times and cried:

“I’m so happy! I’m fucking unspeakably happy!”

When he finally landed on the ground, he did two forward and backward rolls, eased his breath and turned to lieutenant Cox:

“Lieutenant? Do you believe anyone here could take me for a ride?”

“I guess, not.” The lieutenant’s face suddenly turned red.

“They can cook the books everywhere, but not here!”

“Yes, Sir!”

“Besides, I don’t need an accountant to know if I’m being screwed over or not!”

“Yes, Sir!”

“Or maybe you disagree?”

“By no means, Sir!”

“Then, go back to your jeep and wait for me there. Departure at 8 p.m. sharp!”

“Yes, Sir!”

Accompanied by contemptuous stares of the staff of Bombs and Grenades Factory ltd. in Czernievo, lieutenant Cox returned to his car and started studying the latest issue of First-Class Military Accountancy. Although he felt like he’d been put through the wringer, he decided not to show the slightest sign of weakness. He ostentatiously put his favorite magazine on the jeep’s steering wheel and, ignoring the taunts of four completely meaningless captains, he started expanding his intellectual horizons. Meanwhile, overjoyed general Black checked in his pocket for the pile of banknotes, grinned and entered the Administration Office in a dignified manner. He was immediately followed by colonel Henry W.W. Willwood and sergeant Malvina ‘Nonpruderia’ Snowbeard. When general Ashley W.W.W. Black came into the colonel’s office and sat behind his desk, he heard a delicate, almost soothing music flowing from a hi-fi set which remembered the times of a peace mission in Iraq. The sounds of acoustic harp and sweet croaking of frogs made his eyes water and he spoke with a trembling voice:

“It’s not the same army as it used to be. And what kind of idea is that, to force an experienced and honored general to be accompanied by some whipper-snapper lieutenant who is an accountant at the same time!”

“That’s horrible”, colonel Willwood broke in.

“Do those shitfaces think I can’t say if someone screws me over?”

“Horror”, sergeant Snowbeard lifted her right eyebrow.

“When I was taken captive and abused in all possible ways, they were still wet behind the ears.”

“That’s all true.” The colonel made a stern expression.

“Those fuckers, they will see my worth when another war begins.”

“There will be a war?” Sergeant Snowbeard visibly brightened up.

“Oh, yes!” The general started to pull himself together. “But for now, it’s a secret.”

“And you can’t say a word, can you?” Colonel Henry W.W. Willwood reached for a bottle of whiskey.

“Absolutely.”

“Even to your friends?” Sergeant Malvina ‘Nonpruderia’ Snowbeard put a glass straight under the general’s nose.

“I can only tell you that the Allied Forces will strike unexpectedly and with incredible power. And we are talking about Bolivia, Uganda, or Guatemala.”

“And what’s this war all about?” Colonel Willwood finally poured a great portion of the beverage into his guest’s glass. “After all, there’s no oil there.”

“It’s not about the oil.”

“So what is this all about?” Sergeant Snowbeard fluttered her eyelashes.

“You won’t tell anyone?”

“Promise.” The colonel instantly crossed his fingers.

“It is about”, general Ashley W.W.W. Black finally regained his self-assurance, “strategic supplies of peanuts!”

The general’s declaration confounded the audience. They immediately assumed their superior went nuts. It was only after a while when they realized the idea of military intervention in one of the mentioned countries was so absurd that it might indeed be a figment of the highest rank officers’ rich imagination. Therefore, as colonel Henry W.W. Willwood didn’t want to lose the lifetime chance, he gave the sergeant a sign to put down every single word she just heard and enter the data into the computer. In the meantime, the general, completely unaware of the significance of the revealed information, took a gulp of whiskey, lit a cigarette and then, visibly relaxed, said:

“Before I give a speech to this year’s graduates, I have to check your balance sheet.”

“Of course, General.” Colonel Willwood stood at attention. “Just a second!”

The colonel came to a shelf next to the window and took down a file binder. He laid it on the table top, pointed the most significant parts of the balance to his superior and then returned to his place. General Ashley W.W.W. Black scrutinized the sheet, murmured something and after a while, he asked:

“Generally, it’s not bad. But how are you going to explain the loss of one third of gun powder for bomb production?”

“Well”, sergeant Malvina ‘Nonpruderia’ Snowbeard decided to take control over the situation. “We had a small accident.”

“A small accident?”

“It was more like a theft, General.”

“A theft?”

“One of the villagers attempted to appropriate the thirty tones of gun powder under the cover of darkness.”

“All by himself?”

“Well, no.” Sergeant Snowbeard made a weepy face. “He was assisted by the whole village.”

“How?”

“They tried to carry the powder out of the factory area with little shovels.”

“And nobody reacted?”

“Of course we did. We shot all the villagers and then bombed their village.”

“Why?”

“Just in case.”

“Very well!” General Black livened up. “So what happened to the powder?”

“Gone with the wind.” Sergeant Snowbeard got pale. “From those shovels, you know.”

The message about the loss of thirty tones of gun powder did not affect the general positively. He made a stern face, put out his cigarette and started pattering on the table top with his fingers. Only when his look landed on his female subordinate’s breasts, he half-smiled and asked:

“But you’ve razed the village to the ground, haven’t you?”

“Of course, Sir.” Sergeant Malvina ‘Nonpruderia’ Snowbeard stepped up to the superior and sat on the desk. “To the tiniest blade of grass.”

“So”, general Ashley W.W.W. Black put his paw on the sergeant’s thigh, “I approve the balance!”

Glory to the heroes

Before the general put his signature and the official stamp ‘verified positively’ on the balance sheet, he wanted to listen to his favorite Afghan tune. Sergeant Malvina ‘Nonpruderia’ Snowbeard was supposed to dance to the song. Aware of his superiority, the general sat back in the armchair and commanded the sergeant with a gesture to move her body in an exotic gambol. At first she was reluctant to play, but when she saw colonel Henry W.W. Willwood putting a CD with Afghan hits into the CD player she immediately understood that the wish became an order.

As she wanted to please her superiors, she started to dance, bending and flexing her body with all her might. After a few minutes she was covered with tiny sweat drops which were falling on the floor. The view of the sergeant, sweating and intoxicated by dance, heated general Ashley W.W.W. Black up to such an extent that he started singing male names and punching himself on the head. When he stood upright and screamed the name Djafar, so dear to his heart, he lost consciousness for a while and tens of strange little spots covered his body. Soon the tune died down and a blissful silence filled the room. Only when colonel Willwood changed the CD, general Black came back to reality, looked at sergeant Snowbeard cautiously and said:

“Come here, Little Brook. I have to punish you.”

“Sorry?” The sergeant, still breathless, goggled her eyes.

“You don’t need to be afraid, Little Brook. Come here!”

Slightly worried by the flow of events, sergeant Snowbeard peeked at her commander who gave her a sign that he controlled the situation. Therefore, she came to the general and asked:

“Why do you want to punish me, General?”

“You know why, Little Brook.”

“I have no idea, Sir.”

“Of course you know.” General Ashley W.W.W. Black started making strange faces. “You know it very well.”

“I really don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do, you do, you do!”

Completely upset, general Black cut the discussion short and started crying like a baby. He took sergeant Snowbeard by her hand and, mumbling something under his breath, he started smiling at her. When she began stroking his head, he suddenly pulled up her skirt and stamped both her buttocks as ‘verified positively’. Then he put the same stamp on the Factory’s balance sheet, signed it with a sweeping handwriting and, as if nothing happened, turned to colonel Willwood:

“So, Henry. It’s time for us to go, right?”

The colonel, used to the eccentric behavior of his boss, nodded his head, looked at the clock’s face and went calmly towards the door. Sergeant Malvina ‘Nonpruderia’ Snowbeard followed him completely petrified. She grabbed his arm and, trying to tidy up her uniform with the other hand, almost shouted:

“Let’s go! Everyone is waiting for us!”

“That’s right.” The general rose from the desk and wiped his last tears. “I have to rouse those boys and girls into fight.”

“Exactly.” Colonel Henry W.W. Willwood opened the door. “Action stations!”

The call of colonel Willwood mobilized general Ashley W.W.W. Black who drank his glass of whiskey, adjusted his uniform, and set off to the door. He entered the corridor first, leaving the colonel and recovering sergeant Snowbeard behind. Then, following the red arrows painted on the walls, he passed two corridors and ended up in front of the entrance to the production hall. Before going inside, he let the hosts catch up with him and then he opened the massive cast iron door. When he was already inside, he noticed two nameless majors, four completely meaningless captains and hundreds, if not thousands, of aerial bombs and grenades standing in rows and staring at him. The view of the subordinates, armed to the teeth, lent wings to the general, as in a flash he rushed by the conference desk and stopped by the rostrum, decorated with flowers and colorful balloons. He quickly went up three small stairs, cleared his throat and spoke to the iron army:

“Hello, soldiers! Hello, bombs and grenades!”

The gathering seemed to like the general’s words, since they uttered in unison:

“Welcome, our beloved commander!”

Flattered and visibly excited, general Black smiled at his army, scrutinized them carefully and spoke:

“You are the first generation intelligent mass destruction army. Thanks to you, the Allied Forces will be even better at targeting and hurting their enemies. Are you ready for an infernal fight?”

“Yes, we are!”, all bombs and grenades replied. “We will burn, blast and shred everything into pieces!”

“Remember, every day there is a constant fight for peace and democracy! And we will never let anyone destroy the foundations of our civilization!”

“We never will!”

“Therefore, all for one, and one for all! You must not forget about mutual respect and also that your lives are priceless to us!”

“Yes, Sir! Hooray, hooray, hooray!”

On borrowed time

Colonel Willwood had known general Black for many years and he knew that his superior just hated formal parties and public speeches. When general Ashley W.W.W. Black left the rostrum, the colonel came to him and led him to the back of the production hall, where the management of the Factory had organized some refreshments. In a tiny room arranged in a military style, there was a folding table, with two nameless majors, four completely meaningless captains and the host of the whole ceremony, sergeant Malvina ‘Nonpruderia’ Snowbeard, sitting behind it and waiting for their superior. When the general, accompanied by colonel Willwood, stood on the doorstep, the assembly rose and shouted:

“Welcome, General! Welcome, welcome, welcome!”

General Ashley W.W.W. Black gave his officers a sign to sit down, came closer to sergeant Snowbeard and asked:

“So, how was I?”

“Perfect, General!”

“Really?”

“It couldn’t have been better.”

“Wasn’t my make-up too pale?”

“Sorry?” The sergeant stiffened a little.

“I mean, do you think I looked good on cameras?”

“There were cameras?”

“Of course. Plenty!”

“We didn’t invite the media. But…”, sergeant Malvina ‘Nonpruderia’ Snowbeard bit her tongue, “I must have overlooked something.”

“I’m not angry.” General Black poked his interlocutor’s shoulder. “You know,” he lowered his voice to whisper, “I probably didn’t tell you about it, but I’m playing a special part here.”

“What kind of part?” Sergeant Snowbeard’s hands started shaking.

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“I won’t.”

“Even to the colonel?”

“Never, ever.”

“OK. So,” the general smiled coquettishly, “during this year’s inspection of the Factory, I’m representing certain cosmetic company.”

“And?” The sergeant started sweating.

“And I am their face!”

“Really?” Sergeant Malvina ‘Nonpruderia’ Snowbeard lost her nerve. “That’s great news!”

“Thank you, darling. But it must stay between me and you, OK?”

“I’ll be silent as the grave, General.”

“That’s great.”

Sergeant Snowbeard, totally confused, turned back rapidly and ran towards the makeshift kitchen as fast as she could. She stopped there for a moment, eased her breath and, trying to forget about the absurd conversation, she focused on her duties. After a while she started putting various meats, ravioli, salads and general’s favorite sauerkraut stew on the dishes. She also did not forget to serve the traditional broth with noodles for starters. When she poured the soup into a decorative tureen, she armed herself with a coquettish smile and gracefully came to the table. Not waiting for orders, she began filling plates with the broth, flexing her body like a cat. When she finished, she put the tureen in the middle of the table, looked at her commanders and sending them a beaming smile, she said:

“Dinner is served!”

The sight of steaming plates encouraged general Black and colonel Willwood to take their seats. They both rushed to the table, sat on metal chairs and almost simultaneously started devouring the sergeant’s broth. Their vigorous consumption allowed the other officers to find out what skills their female colleague was hiding from them and the world. When the canteen became filled with sighs of admiration for sergeant Snowbeard, someone unexpectedly knocked on the door. Colonel Willwood at once did a headcount, but he didn’t notice any absences. Surprised, he looked at the door and shouted:

“Come in!”

To all banqueters’ astonishment, a type K8-0 hand-grenade and a type S6-X02 aerial bomb entered the room. The iron soldiers saluted and, not waiting for the commanders’ reaction, reported:

“General! Officers! On behalf of the first generation intelligent army of mass destruction, we would like to thank you for protection, training and chance to learn various aspects of military service. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

The spontaneous reaction of the subordinates pleased general Black to such an extent that he put a spoon aside, rose from the table and said:

“Thank you, soldiers! Thank you on behalf of all command!”

“We thank you, General”, replied the grenade. “It’s a real honor to die for you.”

“Don’t exaggerate.” General Ashley W.W.W. Black came closer to his interlocutor.

“I really mean it, General. If you wish, I will explode right here!”

“There’s no need, soldier. There’s no need. What’s your name?”

“I am a type K8-0 hand-grenade.”

“Ok, but what’s your name?”

“Type K8-0 hand-grenade, Sir.“

“And you have no name?”

“That’s right, Sir.”

“And what are your interests?”

“Explosions, Sir.”

“Only that?”

“There is something else but I’m ashamed to say.”

“Say it, soldier.”

“But it’s not right.”

“It’s absolutely right.” General Black patted the grenade on the handle. “We are all military men here!”

“Well, yes”, the grenade got confused a little, “but there’s also a lady.”

“This lady also wears a uniform. So, speak, soldier!”

The words of motivation encouraged the grenade, so he looked into the commander’s face and said:

“Apart from explosions, I also like the pictures of girls. And most of all, I like the posters that can be hung on the wall!”

“I see.” The general was visibly disappointed. “Only girls?”

“Absolutely, General!”

“What about boys or animals?”

“No way, General! I am normal!”

The subordinate’s answer was not to the general’s liking. He glared at the grenade and sentenced:

“You don’t know much about life yet, boy. Not much!”

Scolded by the general, the grenade immediately blushed, his tiny legs started quivering and when he attempted to say something, he vomited. He burst out with sawdust and screws. General Ashley W.W.W. Black did not hesitate to kick it towards the wall. Satisfied with an accurate kick, he clapped his hands and said to the next visitor:

“And what’s your name?”

“I am a type S6-X02 aerial bomb”, answered Silly.

“And you don’t have any nickname either?”

“I do have one, General!”

“Really?” General Black livened up. “What do your friends call you?”

“Silly, General. Just Silly!”

The bomb’s clever response eased the tense atmosphere. The general clapped his hands again, approached Silly and when he was just about to ask her another question, his mobile rang. He answered the call immediately, listened to the message and went into a weird trance. He hopped three times, tapping the ceiling with his hands, and when he landed on the floor, he threw himself at the bomb and started kissing her with all his might. Surprised, but first of all much lighter than the general, the bomb couldn’t resist the pressure of his body and collapsed on the floor. When general Ashley W.W.W. Black stood up, the bomb was still lying motionless and looked as dead as a doornail. Only after a while she started murmuring something but she could not get up by herself. Meanwhile, overjoyed general Black started running around the table, spitting and screaming:

“War! Soon, there will be another war!”