Predator Press
[Mr. Insanity]
LOBO faced his court martial with rather uncharacteristic dignity.
"So let me get this straight," says General Hamms. "In order to defend the US from a Russian invasion, you wrecked a 35 trillion dollar war vessel."
"No," says LOBO adamantly. "The superintelligent giant squid did."
"It says here you let him drive."
"I didn't have a crew. Legless Jim ran out of Martini olives, and everybody was ready to mutiny."
Gasps rippled throughout the courtroom.
General Hamms points at the court reporter. "Let the records show that the defendant --former Brigadier General LOBO-- has admitted under oath that he left the US Warship Johnson negligently out of Martini olives under his command!"
"Order! Order!" demands the Judge, banging his gavel in a feeble effort to reclaim decorum under the booing and hissing. "Mr. Curr, how do you plead?"
"Guilty," he says. "I fucking hate olives almost as much as I hate those little supremacist Cheerios. Both of them exploited the Spaghettio, and made 'em run casinos." He paused dramatically. "Can't we all just be a grey quazi tomatoe-pasta pizza topping that stays crunchy in milk?"
And so General Hamms ceremoniously tore the bars, stripes and stars away from LOBO's notoriously-itchy uniform.
[Mr. Insanity]
LOBO faced his court martial with rather uncharacteristic dignity.
"So let me get this straight," says General Hamms. "In order to defend the US from a Russian invasion, you wrecked a 35 trillion dollar war vessel."
"No," says LOBO adamantly. "The superintelligent giant squid did."
"It says here you let him drive."
"I didn't have a crew. Legless Jim ran out of Martini olives, and everybody was ready to mutiny."
Gasps rippled throughout the courtroom.
General Hamms points at the court reporter. "Let the records show that the defendant --former Brigadier General LOBO-- has admitted under oath that he left the US Warship Johnson negligently out of Martini olives under his command!"
"Order! Order!" demands the Judge, banging his gavel in a feeble effort to reclaim decorum under the booing and hissing. "Mr. Curr, how do you plead?"
"Guilty," he says. "I fucking hate olives almost as much as I hate those little supremacist Cheerios. Both of them exploited the Spaghettio, and made 'em run casinos." He paused dramatically. "Can't we all just be a grey quazi tomatoe-pasta pizza topping that stays crunchy in milk?"
And so General Hamms ceremoniously tore the bars, stripes and stars away from LOBO's notoriously-itchy uniform.
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