Gay Commanders

Factiod: Commanders in the army do not have walkie talkies. But boy, would they love to. Lacking these, they resort to private, non-military means. For long distances, they call each other on their cellphones. In fact, they call so much, I don’t know why they army doesn’t have its own cell band. But for up close communication, they rely upon the last resort of manly men everywhere, the Intimate Whisper. That’s right: our commanders basically walk up to one another, cheek-by-jowl, and whisper into the ear of his fellow. It makes you wonder what they’re saying. Are they dull, day-to-day logistics that they withhold from us out of sheer Discipline (psss pss pss flaming hoola hoops will be at 12:11, not 12:13, pss pshss…), or important state secrets like the ingredient that makes the roast potatoes so good (vegetable oil, olive oil, shortening, and a bay leaf)? In any event, they do so often and with regularity. It is ever so humorous, however, when for some reason, the message does not quite get across, and the seconds pass in twos and tens with the commanders in question whispering fierce nothings a man to his fellow. Not Shirley Temple gay [Captain “Daddy” Crew, The Little Princess : “Let’s make the room a little gay, shall we?”], but YMCgAy.

Now, I’m obviously misinterpreting what is going on, and in fact, even as I smile, I know I’m smiling because of the distinct lack of truth my whimsy. I’m not going to analyze why it’s funny. Ok, maybe one sentence. Humorous irony. Correction: one sentence fragment. Er, two sentence fragments. Exactly.