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Click here"Still on the third floor." He muttered as he carried all the liquor up the stairs. The door he stopped at had the letters "I-Y-A-O-Y-A-S" stenciled in a semi-circle. Beneath that was an excellent rendition of an eagle with a bomb clutched in its talons. That sight brought a smile to his lips. He'd been around when it was painted, if he'd had his way it would have been a bomb-omb from Super Mario but he'd been out voted in the end. He kicked the door three times as hard as he could and waited.
Inside you could hear a few bodies scuffling around to get to the door and probably hide some drinks as well. A moment later PFC Becks opened the door. "Chill everybody, its just Bernard." He said as he wrapped his arms around him warmly embracing his "brother". "Welcome home. It's good to see you. Wanna beer?" He asked pulling him into the quad and shutting the door behind him.
The quad was a sort of common room shared by four rooms of two Marines each. There wasn't much to it, a big screen television in one corner and two couches, a few chairs and a coffee table. Today the table was completely covered at one end with half empty pizza boxes and the other with a combination of McDonalds and KFC bags and cups. Three trashcans had been brought in to deal with the empty beer cans. Between the seven men sitting around they'd gone through forty plus beers.
"Shit, you fuckers have been at it for a while." Kevin noted with an impressed whistle.
"Since four o'clock yesterday. Gunny's losing his mind." Becks replied.
"No he's lost his mind. I hate work; every day is the worst day of my life. Like today is the worse day of my life, but wait until tomorrow. Something will happen to make me forget all about what happened today." Jones added tipping a beer back then crushing it and tossing it aside.
"Quit your bitchin I just got back from Iraq." Kevin said hefting the bag of liquor and setting it down on the table. "Besides here's a gift."
The other five Marines smiled slapping him on the shoulders and they tore the box open and started distributing beer. Becks grinned as he snatched the bottle of Jack and opened it. "Guys he's right. He just got back from Iraq, we should quit our bitchin."
"Yeah we might as well let him enjoy his ninety six before he figures out he'd be happier in Iraq!" Jones shouted.
Kevin's expression instantly darkened as he realized he was happier in Iraq. If he'd stayed he wouldn't have found out. "Don't fuckin start. Iraq has been lookin pretty good since I got home."
"Why?" Jones asked reaching in and finding the bottle of 151. "Oh." He'd only seen three bottles of 151 in his entire life and every one had been bought over a woman.
"Pour me a shot and I'll tell you about my day."
"You ok?" Becks asked as he pulled grabbed a plastic cup off the stack and poured a double shot of 151.
"Just shut and listen."
This story needs an ending. Given how old it is it'll probably never happen.
He thinks you're wife should have presented you with another guy's bastard because he himself is sterile, so he has a bit of a fetish, you see (wife probably did it to him).
It took a lot to tell this story. I know that because my old lady did me the same way. I also read your comments in the review and can see how you feel about people that comment where they don't know what they've talking about.
i just read this entire story. would love another chapter. great writing.
your story is the exact way we all feel. we wish we could do the things you talk about in that situation. as a marine (0331) fuck the haters keep writing!! you should send the trunk to iraq.