Janissaries

Georgetown, District of Columbia, United States

3:30 A.M, 25th of June, 2015

*RING*RING*RI-

‘’Agh! Enough!’’ I seethed in frustration as  I fumbled with the alarm on my Ipod v6.  I’m accustomed to Ben Franklin’s motto ‘’Early to Bed, Early to Rise’’, but not this damn early! I thought to myself as I wormed my way out of bed as slowly as possible.  As the fourth of July draws ever nearer, I’ve been finding myself getting up earlier and earlier as My men and I scramble to sign, fill and complete the ever-growing stacks of paperwork before the parades and related festivities begin.

The reason why I’m up this early however, Is a different story. The U.S. government, with the last bits of wisdom and sensibility it had left, created a program last year that handpicked certain youth from the ages of 12 to 14, and assigned them ‘’mentors’’ that supposedly would test their knowledge of tactics, weaponry, military history, and other skills after noticing that their pool of future officers was drying up fast. The chosen children would then immediately be given an officer’s commission when they reached 16. I was one of the ‘’Mentors’’ lucky me, and that meant even more more bore and paperwork.

Sometimes the only relief from it all was watching MLP:FiM with some of my staff officers, we kept it a complete secret from the rest of the 18th Army of course, as the image of the famous U.S. General, Andrew Şahin, waring a patch of Twilight Sparkle’s cutie mark right next to an Iron Cross didn’t do very well for the ‘’Handsome, Brilliant, and Cunning’’ image. Watching George Carlin’s ‘’It’s Bad for Ya’’ and ‘’You are all Diseased’’ always gave me a good laugh and cheered me up as well. I Smiled as I booted up my computer and searched for a few clips of MLP and the aforementioned comedian before I got down to business.

I eventually went through this

and this.

and finally this.

After some MLP and a few of Carlin’s inspirational shouts of ‘’Bullshit!’’ I finally headed down to my car, put my keys into the ignition, and drove off towards the Kennedy Center for the program meetings, the past ‘’Intelligent Candidates’’ I had been assigned hadn’t been very impressive, but I still had hope.

Boy, was I in for a long day..

Downtown Washington, District of Columbia, United States

5:45 A.M, 25th of June, 2015

I Parked my Car at the Kennedy Center, as for whatever reason they had decided to hold it here, of all places. ‘’Wonderful’’. I thought to myself as I got out of my car, ‘’ A place of great plays and culture turned into a bureaucratic cesspool filled with mindless politicians’’. None of the past results had been great, and many of them simply collapsed from the sheer ruthlessness of the training. As I got in the elevator, which to my amusement was playing the theme from  Benny Hill,  one of my Staff Officers, and a very good friend of mine, Nestor Çelik, walked in beside me. Nestor was Turkish, like me, but often spoke in a wide variety of languages just to annoy me, chiefly German.

‘’And how would you be this fine morning, Herr General?’’ ‘’Fine, Nes, just fine.’’ I muttered as I pressed for Terrace on the elevator. He was always in a happy mood, which sometimes tended to piss people off, his personality perfectly matching the patch of Pinkie Pie’s cutie mark on his right shoulder. He had been enlisted in the Engineer Corps, but was given an Officer’s commission through Candidate School. He also had a very childish personality, sometimes one would even mistake him for one, we were both young of course,  Nestor had signed on underage at 15 and I did the same at 16. We were 20 and 21 now, and I’m still amazed I had gotten bumped up to ‘’General’’ in the short time of merely five years.

Eventually the elevator doors opened and we both stepped out.  We both headed down to the Eisenhower Theater, where they were preparing for the new ‘’Recruits’’ to arrive. ‘’Think we’ll get any promising ones this year?’’ Nestor asked me as we glided down the hall. ‘’I doubt it.’’ I replied. ‘’If their policy of lowering the passing grades in schools becomes any worse, the whole of the military may become a living copy of the guy from  Encino Man.’’ I joked as we neared the doors. We both gave a good laugh as finally walked into the room in full dress. Nobody was here so far except the IT crew and a few bored-out-of-mind parents.

I quickly scanned the room for any Officers, any of them seeing Nestor and I with MLP patches, and It would the be the end of any reputation and respect I may have had. Seeing that no-one much of Importance was around,  I climbed back into my seat. Nestor and I put on headsets booted up the laptops we had brought, went on steam and Started playing Day of Defeat: Source.

‘’Bob Dylan!’’ we both yelled quietly, a friend of ours on Steam had invented the joke of a battle cry after a player with the same name had gotten a legendary 50 man kill streak and not one death, we hailed the man as an FPS god, and it had stuck ever since. 15 minutes into the game Nestor already had a 11 man kill streak when a sniper ended his parade. I was good on a real battlefield, but never with an FPS. The bullets were simply too fast and way too damn many! ‘’Bob Dylan’s love, Bob Dylan’s life, Bob Dylan!’’ We casually laughed as we launched into a new round.

Unbeknownst to us, of course, A mysterious, dim pinprick of a light in the west started to shine, growing ever-larger ad ever-nearer to the two friends, too busy enjoying themselves in their moment of respite to notice..