Operation Harvest

REQUISITION

‘This is OFC, respond, over.’

‘Roger that OFC, this is C-78-15000 base, we read you over.’

‘Governor still hasn’t changed the name yet eh? Over.’

‘Heh, nope.  Over.’

‘Well we’ve been getting reports, and apparently the planet already has a name.  Over.’

‘Wait what?’

‘...’

‘Please repeat.’

‘...’

‘Dammit why aren’t you responding?’

‘You didn’t say over, over.’

‘Oh for the love of...  please repeat that over.’

‘The planet already has a name.  It’s Equestru or Equestree or something, over.’

‘I’ll be sure to tell the governor, over.’

‘Roger.  Have civilian transports arrived safely?  Over.’

‘All present and accounted for, over.’

‘Is the colony finished? over.’

‘Roger that, all essential buildings have been constructed and we are currently working on bunkers over.’

‘The Major suggests that you get started on that planned extension over.’

‘Are we having guests?  Over.’

‘We should be receiving a battalion, over.’

‘We’re not expected to fight are we?  Over.’

‘Negative, it’s just a precaution.  Report in 7 hours, standard Gleyan 1/1 time, over.’

‘Affirmative, over and out.’

‘Over and out.’

The sniper looked about himself from atop the tower, peering round the anti-air emplacement next to him.  Other than the work crews, there didn’t seem to be anyone around, which was odd considering it was only 9:00.  He watched them cut large swathes into the forest using industrial bulldozers and some chemical weapons where needed.  Now and again it would get interesting; a dangerous creature indigenous to the planet would venture out and would be either scared away or put down by the guards, but for the most part nothing happened.  Turning away from them he watched the entrance to the compound to his right.  The brush was too thick to see through, and as a result even less was visible making it even more boring.  He finally turned his gaze towards the sky, the moonlight glinting off of his armour.  He looked back up, this time with his helmet on and watched for any sign of movement.  Far off in the distance he could see silhouettes of pegasi flying around what seemed to be a city made of clouds.  He briefly wondered what would happen if one of the ships flew through it, then dismissed the thought.  Then something caught his eye.  Far above was a black spec leaving a white trail behind it, something which animals didn’t do.  Picking up the radio, he broadcasted on all the Gleyan airway frequencies.

‘All jets in vicinity of home base please identify.’  There was only the crackle of static.  ‘I repeat, please identify.’ This wasn’t looking good.  Walking up to one of the other guards who was currently taking a mid-day nap, he knocked on his helmet.

‘Wa... Huh?’

‘Wake up sunshine, we have a problem.’  Grumbling, the soldier stood up, taking his helmet off and wiping the sleep from his eyes.

‘What is it?’  The sniper pointed up at the object.  He took out his binoculars and zoomed in on it.  Sighing, he turned to the assortment of men sitting about the AA gun.  ‘Set the gun up, we’ve got a spy drone to destroy.’  They got up quickly, eager to do something, anything at all.  After half a minute of set up they fired a salvo of missiles straight at the target.  At first it seemed to ignore them, but as they got closer it started its evasive manoeuvres.  Left, right, left, up, down, it was dodging every one.  Just as they thought it was all over, it’s rear lit up, hit by a missile it hadn’t managed to shake off.  It fell, leaving a trail of smoke as it plummeted.  The AA officer slapped one of the men on the back in congratulations, then quickly returned to his bored state.  ‘Well, back to my nap I suppose.’

}------------{

‘There’s too many of them!  We need reinfor-’  The feed cut off.  That was the eighth battalion of the day.  Ven turned from the tactical map to the slit in the bunker’s wall and peered out over the burning city.  Their positioning on the mountain gave him a clear(ish) view of the battle, though the smoke was a real pain in the arse.  The line was holding firm, but the situation wasn’t looking good.  More than 8,000 men had been killed, wounded or gone missing in the last four hours alone, not including the 1,500 captured.  He became aware of a flashing light behind him and to his horror, looking back at the tactical map, he could see nigh on a thousand yellow dots appearing, each representing the individual Anteeist soldier, and all converging on the salient the men had themselves stuck in on the left flank, a row of bombed out buildings and make shift trenches.  Any other day he would have pulled them out of there to a better position, but this wasn’t any other day.  Their morale had gone to shit, and if any part of the line broke, they would all break, no doubt about it.   The attendants and officers all had a noticeable look of fear on their faces.  Mentally slapping himself awake, he went to his private console, right next to the map and contacted the 1795th Conscript battalion.  They were new, fresh out of boot-camp.  He really didn’t want to do this to them, but he had no other choice.

‘Lieutenant-Colonel, respond.’  For a few moments there was just static, but soon enough a response followed.

‘Ready and willing general.’

‘I need you to advance on the salient and support the remnants of the 267th battalion.  I’m uploading the latest map updates now.’  He played around with the console and sent what was basically a screenshot of the tactical map they had to the battalion commander.  When the Lieutenant-colonel next spoke he sounded desperate.

‘You, uh, you want us to move there sir?’  Ven sighed.

‘Yes soldier.’

‘But, um, isn’t there another way?  Maybe an airstrike?’

‘That would only be buying us time.  We need to fix this problem for good.  I will contact you for your next set of orders once you have successfully repelled the attack.  Good luck.’

‘But sir it-’ he cut him off then focused the virtual map on the green dots of the 1795th battalion.  A counter hovered alongside the force as they moved displaying the number of soldiers still alive based on their heartbeat: 371 men.  If they could get there fast enough they would have a fighting chance.  Going back to the salient he watched the dwindling numbers of the 267th decrease.  They were spread ridiculously thin, with only 97 men left... now 96 across an area of 700 metres.  The yellow dots were slowly disappearing, but that didn’t have much of an impact on the overall assaulting force.  He smiled grimly to himself as a large cluster of them bunched together all disappeared almost at once, most likely hit by a shell.  Serves them right for doing something stupid like that.  He had been focusing on the salient for too long.  He scrolled back to the middle and right flank and watched the dots blink out of existence.  The line was holding, and the artillery were pounding the no-mans land, displaying a remarkable aptitude for area denial.  Still, the situation could have been better, but for now it would have to do.  The console started flashing, bathing him in an unearthly green.  It was a video call.  Answering it, a frame opened up, an officer coming into view.

‘Gleyan 1543rd heavy battalion ready for action, sir.  The dropships have just finished bringing the last of us.’  Oh yes, thank the one, yes, a new regiment, and their numbers, 1,000 exactly, this was what he needed.  He checked their distance from the salient, about three kilometers, even better.

‘L.C. you must move up to the salient immediately.  The line is in danger of breaking and they need relief now.’  He uploaded another map screenshot to the soldier.  The officer didn’t seem too disconcerted.

‘Anyone going to support us?’

‘Those 371 men advancing on the salient are the 1795th conscript battalion.  They’re fresh, so don’t expect anything special.’  The soldier nodded.

‘Don’t worry sir, we’ll take ‘em.’  Ven returned to the right flank and redirected a few ‘extra’ platoons to the frontline.  After a few minutes of resource management, focused airstrikes and general frontline logistics, his adjutant interrupted him.

‘Sir, the 1795th have made it to the salient.’  Hopefully they could buy the heavy battalion some time.

‘Good, bring them up.’  The room was suddenly filled with the sounds of artillery and gunfire, a few of the more experienced officers, so to speak, reaching for their guns in shock.

‘Fuck!  Sir they won’t stop coming!  It’s an onslaught!’ The officer was screaming into his mic, his voice very shaky.

‘Just hold them off for as long as you can.  There are a thousand men coming to reinforce you in about an hours time.’

‘I don’t thi- Oh god, medic!  Stay with me Gregir- I don’t think we’re going to make it that long sir!’  There was a very distinct sound of someone screaming.

‘Well you’ll just have to.  If it’s any consolation, there’s an airfuel strike inbound, eta four minutes.’  More screaming.

‘Piece o-, fine, but sir I seriously think you’re about to have another wiped out battalion on your hands.’  Unfortunately the plan didn’t require them to ‘make it’.  All they had to do was make sure no Anteeist got through, wiped out or not.  They were effectively cannon fodder, it’s just that they were too green to fully realise it.  Well, there wasn’t much he could do for them now.  The fleet was tangled up fighting the Anteeists, keeping the supply lines open, and all the air support was either up there or providing overwatch for men further down the line who probably needed it more than they did.  He had heard that the bulk of the offensive, around 3 million men, were charging over a small patch of dirt about 70 kilometers east, but he wasn’t sure, you couldn’t be sure about anything the state this battle was in.  He felt sorry for the poor bastards who would have to stop that wave.

‘Major, call me if it’s urgent.’  The adjutant nodded and set back to work.  Ven left the bunker through a door and came out onto a balcony on the front of it.  The cold wind whipped about him, his nose turning numb.  He pulled out his high powered binoculars (Which was more like a telescope) and focused on the right flank.  He could see the tracers fly both ways, shells exploding continuously all around the Gleyan line.  Now and again there would be a large puff of blood as a shell met its mark causing him to wince.  Shifting attention to the ‘middle’ of the line he could see that they were doing quite well.  An Anteeist retreat was underway there and the men were obviously happy as he could see from their raised arms and what looked like smiling faces.  They didn’t seem like they were going to return...  His adjutant opened the door and stuck his head out.

‘Sir, battalions 195th, 654th, 832nd and the 12th signal battalion are reporting a fullscale Anteeist rout on their front.  Ven nodded.

‘Good.  Get the 654th to move to the right flank, they’re going to need the help.’

‘What about the salient sir?’

‘I can’t commit too many men to the job major, or the whole line will start to break.  Besides, they’ve already got a full strength battalion coming to their rescue.’  The major nodded and left.  He looked at the salient and saw that he could in fact see nothing.  The dust and debris kicked up, alongside the smoke from a burning building, was making it impossible to see in there.  He doubted the soldiers could see themselves.  It really was turning into one big shit storm.

}------------{

‘So what you’re saying is, you were banished to the moon for a thousand years, and you forgave your sister?’ Asked Amax, his hand resting on his stomach.  Luna nodded sleepily.

‘Yes, of course.  She didn’t want to do it, but it was the only way.  Besides, it was kind of... peaceful up there.’  He look sceptically at her.

‘You enjoyed it?’

‘Not exactly, though it did give me time to think.’

‘About what?’  She was silent in thought.

‘Well apart from thinking of how I was going to get back at her,’ Amax laughed, ‘I thought about, well, everything.  Nightmare Moon hated it though.  She obviously didn’t like the idea of her host having freewill.’  Amax looked around at the ponies.  The party had moved onto the slow songs (why there were slow songs being played at a promotion party he didn’t know) and the DJ was taking a break, sitting on the far end of the hall.  She was surrounded by ponies, presumably fans.  Spotting him staring, she waved with her hoof, to which he waved back rather hesitantly.  It felt weird waving to something without hands.  He resumed his conversation with Luna.

‘Well I know a few people who could take a lesson from that.’ She looked happily at him.

‘You do?  Perhaps you could write a friendship report!  I’m sure Celestia would be ever so pleased to see that we’re teaching something to you and your friends!’

‘A friendship re...’ He had no idea how to react to that.  It was a very interesting concept, though for the life of him he couldn’t really see the point in one.  Maybe a psych evaluation thing?  ‘That sounds, um, interesting, but I don’t think I’ll have the time.’  She looked at him in pity.

‘Don’t you get to rest?  Any time to have fun?’’  Ooer, think quickly.

‘I, er, ha, no I don’t, lot’s of um, marching, yes and drills, especially the drills.  It’s, phew, hard work.  Hell I don’t even know what fun is!’  He smiled and brushed his head for dramatisation.

‘Oh, you’re just like me when I came back, unaware of what fun is.  It is a most glorious thing, filled with happy thoughts and warm feelings.  Come, I must show you its wonders!’  What had he gotten himself into...  She stood up and started to walk then stopped.  ‘Um, I’m afraid I don’t know what exactly we could do for fun.  There seem to be no stalls or games of any sort.’  There was a shimmer of light in Amax’s eye.

‘I have an idea,’ he said pulling out his deck of cards.  ‘Ever heard of a game called blackjack?’  She sat back down, staring at the cards in curiosity.

‘Blackjack?  What is this, blackjack?’  Amax smiled.

‘Let’s just say it’s a very fun game.’  As he dealt cards, she nuzzled them, wondering what to make of it.

‘But how can 52 cards be fun?  And they all look exactly the same!’  Amax turned two of the cards over.  ‘Oh.’

‘Now, this game requires a bit of skill and some common sense, but I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it soon enough.  Now you see, this eight means that...’

Luna slammed her last two cards down onto the table.  ‘I win again!’  While she sat looking very pleased with herself Amax just stared at the table in shock.  Jimothy beating him at card games he could understand, but a pony who had just learnt what cards were, how was it possible?  He put the cards down resignatedly.

‘Wow, again...’

‘Oh, don’t look so sad.  My sister tells me I’m a fast learner.  Besides, I’m sure you’ll get better if you practice enough!’  He pulled all the cards back to him and stacked them into a pile.

‘I wish I had the time...’ He mumbled.  Luna started looking around for something to do, then remembered the list.

‘We should probably get back to work now.’  Amax had completely forgotten about that, and wished she hadn’t reminded him.

‘Oh right, the list.’  They were silent for a minute, the sound of music and chatter filling their heads.  Amax took the pad out of his satchel and turned it on.  It brought him to the main menu.  Luna sidled up next to him and looked at the screen.

‘What’s that?  She asked, pointing to a picture of a camera, the caption saying ‘films’.

‘Oh that?  That’s where the films and video clips are.’  She looked questioningly at him.

‘What’s a film?’  Oh this was going to be good.

‘Well, they’re moving pictures.’

‘Like a divination spell?’  The hell was that?

‘Uh, I suppose so.  Just watch.’ He clicked on the icon and scrolled down the list to find a suitable film, one that didn’t contain blood, violence, swear words or all three at the same time.  It wasn’t easy.  ‘I’m not sure if I have a, oh wait here you go.  This one’s a montage of failed robberies.’  As they watched, they both laughed at the mishaps of the would be robbers, and Amax wondered just how the hell it was that he came across videos like it.

The smoldering remains of the spy plane were scattered about the field, but luckily for the Gleyans, its data drives were still intact.  There had been some ponies around, but they had left as soon as the soldiers arrived, still scared of them.

‘So, anything interesting?’ Asked a lieutenant who’s name the sniper didn’t really care to remember.

‘Well,’ said the sniper ripping out the drive, ‘If there is, it’ll be on this.’  He tossed it to the officer who caught it clumsily and glared at him.

‘Then there’s no time to lose,’ he turned to the assembled work force. ‘Everyone, you know what to do.  Clean this mess up and search for scavengable parts.’  He walked back to the jeep and got in.  ‘Hey sniper, I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be driving this.’

‘Yes sir!’  Rolling his eyes, the sniper ran up to the jeep and got in the drivers seat.  ‘Where to,’ he said grinning.

‘Now’s not the time soldier.’  He was no fun.  At least Banna would play along.

‘Yes sir.’

Banna couldn’t get any sleep with the loud music resonating through the castle.  He had slept through thunders storms, artillery and orbital bombardments, but a funky beat was too much for him.  Sighing very heavily, he got up and put his jumpsuit on.  He started putting on the armour but then thought better of it.  He was in a friendly bastion, he would be fine.  It’s not like anyone was going to try and fight him.  Regardless, he adorned his bullet proof vest and strapped his utility belt round himself.  Pushing open the door, he peered outside.  On his left was a guard who seemed to be sleeping while standing.  Been there, done that, he thought.  Turning right to where he thought the music was coming from, he passed row upon row of corridor and hall, but didn’t seem any closer to finding the great hall.  He happened upon some doors that looked like the entrance to the great hall; gold adorned doors with ornate markings, and the music was coming from there.  He pushed it open and found that it was a balcony beneath the great hall.  He walked out onto it and looked up.  There was light shining brightly from it, the source probably the party and many ponies were leaning on the railings, looking out across the city.  He did the same.  Canterlot looked a lot nicer at night, the bright lights having a mesmerising effect on him.  Far off in the distance he thought he could see Ponyville, and beyond it, the Everfree forest stretching out into the horizon.  He felt an extra strong gust of wind, but paid it no heed.

‘Beautiful sight, is it not?’  Banna jumped at the voice and turned to see who it was.  Celestia was standing right there with a letter hovering in the air, a pen scratching words onto the paper.

‘Uhm, yes, it is.  Reminds me of home.’  She joined him, watching the city.

‘Oh?  And where is this home of yours?’  He sighed and looked up to the stars.

‘About 15 quadrillion kilometers away from here.’

‘Wow.  That’s a long way away.’

‘Tell me about it.  The further away I go, the worse it gets.’  She cocked her head up.

‘It?’ He sighed again, a much longer sigh than before.

‘Sometimes I wake up at night in cold sweats for seemingly no reason.  Others I start to shake regardless of the weather or the situation.’

‘What do you mean, shake?’

‘I shiver.  Then there are the flashbacks.  Every so often I will be walking, or talking, or doing some other simple task, I see something that reminds me of home and BAM!  I have a flashback.  It wouldn’t be much of a problem, except I stop moving at all when I have them, and it can be for minutes at a time.’  Celestia looked quite concerned.

‘Do you know what’s wrong?’  Banna took a long look at the stars.

‘My doctor tells me it’s home sickness.’  Celestia finished writing the letter and sent it off in the usual fashion; a green flame ignited and it turned to ash then was blown away in the wind to an unsuspecting dragon or pony.

‘Well why don’t you go back home?  Don’t they let you go home in the army?’  He laughed.

‘Only in a body bag.  The way this war is going I don’t think any of us will ever see our families and home again, least of all me.’  She looked a little taken aback.

‘Is it really that bad?’  He nodded.  They resumed looking out across the city.  ‘So why did you say least of all you?’  He seemed distant.

‘Hm?’

‘You said that were the one least likely to see your home and friends.  Why?’  Banna tried not to think about that.

‘Oh, well, my home...’  He found it hard to finish the sentence.  ‘is... gone.’  She wasn’t sure what he meant.

‘Gone?’  He nodded, a lump forming in his throat.

‘Yep, it’s gone, nothing else to say on the matter.’  He fell silent, and luckily for him, Celestia thought it better not to pursue the topic.  ‘This is my way out.’  She looked at him, wondering what he meant.  ‘I had the choice to keep fighting or join the Gleyan Colonisation Force.  And I chose the GCF.  That’s why I’m here.’

‘To colonise our world?’

‘Nope.  To find a new home.’  She put a hoof on his shoulder, something that wasn’t exactly that easy considering he was considerably larger than most ponies.

‘Well you’ll like it here.  It’s peaceful and the ponies are all very nice.’  He smiled faintly.

‘Yeah, they’re good peop- uh, I mean ponies that live round here.’ He stood up straight.  ‘I think I should go find Amax.  Do you know how I could get to the great hall?’  She giggled ever so slightly.

‘Yes, of course.  Come with me, I will show you the way.’  They walked back inside, Celestia shutting the doors behind her with her magic.  I’m never going to get used to that... thought Banna.

}------------{

Ven sat in the back of the APC staring at his helmet.  It had glossy blue inscriptions and decorations covering it denoting him as a war hero, but he couldn’t understand why.  What kind of war hero would lose a battle at one of the most important times in the offensive?  If he truly was a war hero, that line would have held and the salient would not have been ploughed through.  Exactly 1,483 men had died in that pit, and now the number would forever be etched into his skull alongside everyone else he had gotten killed.  There had been no wounded as they had all been executed; the Anteeists didn’t take many prisoners during an attack because it would slow them down.  He looked around at the soldiers in the APC with him.  Two guards and his adjutant.  The guards stared ahead with blank expressions, not moving a muscle in their faces except to blink, almost like dolls.  He wondered if they blamed him for the break in the line.  Maybe that was why they were expressionless, they hated him.

‘Sir,’ said his adjutant, ‘You did the best you could.’  Was it really that obvious how he was feeling?  He looked at his reflection in his helmets visor and realised just how red his eyes were.

‘No, if I was doing the best I could someone, anyone would be alive.’  The adjutant shook his head.

‘There was nothing you could do sir.  None of us expected stormtroopers.’  Ven didn’t feel any better.

‘Yes, but I could have sent more men.  You said yourself back there that we could’ve sent the free battalions to assist the left flank.’

‘Sir you know full well that if you had done that they would have spotted the weakness in the lines and pressed the advantage, now stop wallowing in despair and sit up straight.  There’s a war on you know.’  He brushed some of the dust and debris off of his shoulders.  ‘Besides, you’re the only general higher than a brigadier still alive now.  Everyone got killed in that commando raid.’  That was something Ven still didn’t quite understand.  The generals were supposed to be well protected , yet despite that and the generals being spread out across the battlefield, they had all been killed simultaneously as though it had been planned.  It was all very suspicious.  The only thing he wanted to know was why not him?  His position hadn’t been unassailable, far from it.  He had learnt just before they had left that for four kilometers in front of the bunker it was completely devoid of any kind of patrol or camp because the soldiers had assumed they were to retreat all the way behind the mountain.  A bumbling idiot could have gotten to him, so why did they leave him alone?  He’d have to think about it later, he had a speech to write.

‘Jerry, take a pen, I need to prepare something for the meeting with the council.’  The adjutant nodded and took out his data pad and the accompanying stylus.

‘So, Field Marshall sir, what would you like to say?’  Ven raised his eye, and the two guards glanced at the assistant officer.

‘Field Marshall?  What do you mean?’

‘Well, Field Marshall Beyr is incapacitated so-’

‘WHAT!?’  The adjutant flinched, not expecting that reaction.  Ven’s mind reeled.  While he had been told all the generals had been killed, he didn’t think they meant the Field Marshall as well, the most protected figure after the Chairman himself, maybe even more.  The officer wasn’t even present on the planet.  He was supposed to be a tens of thousands of kilometers away in a semi-indestructible battleship surrounded by destroyers.  ‘How exactly is it that this happened?’  Jerry blinked.

‘Oh, he choked on a cake.’  Ven looked at him, his expression blank.  That was it?  No legendary last stand?  No prestigious death by assassin? Just muffled by a muffin?

‘I see.  So you’re assuming I’m going to be the new Field Marshall?’

‘But of course.  Look at the history of the army sir, if there is an officer missing, the next capable soldier is bumped up to the next rank.  You’re the capable officer sir.  Everyone else is dead, and while their assistants and advisers can cover their roles, they definitely can’t take the reigns of the Field Marshall, it’s simply to big and carries too much responsibility on them.  Why do you think they chose to be assistants rather than try for the promotion?’

‘You don’t get to choose whether you’re an assistant or not Jerry.’  He chuckled.

‘Whatever you say sir...’  Ven looked out of one of the small windows, the dust covered glass making the outside world a pain to look at.

‘What’s to stop them from bringing a different Field Marshall in from another campaign?’

‘Sir, may I remind you that there are thousands of different theatres of operation and none of them look like they’re about to end soon, this one included.  I think it’s safe to assume you’re next.’  His logic was sound.

‘Well that’s just great.  Now I have to serve an extra 10 years.’  Well, no use complaining.  ‘Now then, as I was saying, Dear friends, no wait, they won’t like that, change that to My lords...’  In the drivers compartment, the two soldiers sat, one driving, the other staring out the window idly.

‘Whozzat talking in the back?’  Asked the driver.  The idle soldier opened up a small sliding hatch behind him and looked into the back.

‘It’s the general.  I think he’s giving a speech.’  He said flatly.

‘What, to two people?  These higher up types are weird,  I tell you.’  They continued on in silence, the sound of the General’s voice lingering in, and the driver couldn’t take it anymore.

‘Hey, switch on the radio will you?  I’m getting tired of hearing his voice.’  The idle soldier complied, tuning the radio to his favourite station.

‘khkhkhkhkhkhkhkhk- ...God damn it what else is there? Here we go - It appears that Gleyan governments across the system are seizing planetary resources for the war effort. Well that’s just great, then what the hell are we supposed to do now big brother government? Let me tell you if they take things too far – which they already have for Christ’s sake! – we’re gonna’ see some major uprisings and don’t you forget it! I’m prognosticating it and you better believe your fruity effeminate arse it’s gonna’ happen! Not only that, but we’re seeing an increase in resources being route-sorry re-routed from domestic, constructive and defensive sectors to the military sectors.

Uh-oh, not only that, but employees won’t even earn a wage from it! I mean what the fuck is this?! – Excuse my fancy – but I mean, we’re going back to communism now? Cause’ that’s what it is, old – style totalitarian communism. And they even think that communism is too harsh a label for it, they like to brand it ‘Capunism’ – ‘Oh well you can’t really call it communism we actually call it Capunism because meh meh meh meh meh’ SHADDAP!!! I don’t believe this, uh, ladies and gentlemen. I just can’t.

Hahaha! But that don’t matter for me baby! See, I’m from Saxet baby, the best planet in the system! This isn’t gonna’ affect us, are you kidding me? This is why I love being a Capitalist, I’M MAKING MONEY BABY! IT’S WHAT I DO!

Anyways I wanna take your calls over this horrible overthrowing of communities such as your own big brother government, and don’t call up unless you have some kind of sustenance, ya’ know? Something with something to say based of intellectual thinking! Anyways...”

“1434 – 09, what’s your opinion on this horrific enslavement being put out by our governments?”

“You’re a racist, Mr. Ghost. You really are – a – hambone! You’ve been supporting Tina Gaelin, you’re a fan of R.D! Mr. Ghoooooo-“

“AWW-WHAT-THE-THE-THE-THEY’RE SINGING A SONG ABOUT ME! THEY’RE SINGING A GOD DAMN SONG I MEAN GOD’ SAKES!-“-khkhkhkhkhkhk’