Wartime, Pt. 1

I was just resting in a repair hanger when my humans came back from there 20 minute vacation. My pilot was named Bill, every aircraft knew that. Oh yeah, machines can talk to each other. Humans may think we are just machines, we tried telling them, but it didnt work. Honestly I was actually kinda happy we can't talk to them. Some humans are annoying, Billy is one of them.

He wasn't all bad, until he eats burritos. Chicken, Extra cheese. But, out of all of them, Extra Beans.....oh God. He needs to find something else to eat other than that. I have been a training aircraft forever, I swear he needs to eat something else, spaghetti, burgers, kerosene, anything! OK maybe not kerosene.

"Oh God he got Taco Bell again." An F-22 said in a upset tone.

I groand as, of course, he's my pilot, it's going to be a fun day of training. He had two large bean burritos and a chicken burrito. I swear if he farts in me I will fly myself to the ground. He was a burrito fanboy, it's actually quit hilarious. Heh, even when he doesn't fart he still stinks. How do I know? HE SITS IN ME!

Anyway as he was eating, and I was passing the time by talking to my fellow comrades.

"Did you guys here about that poor Abrams that got sold for scrap?" I said as I, was trying to get rid of the boardom.

"I heard that his crew was killed." A Raptor said.

"I thought a human took a shit in him or something?" A Nighthawk stated amused.

"Thats disrespectful ya know!?" A very loyal Tomcat said, he's also a dick most days.

"Meh...I still think he shit in him."  Nighthawk said unamused now.

"Hey look, he's finished already." Tomcat said.

He was right, in a matter of 1 minute, Billy was finished with all of his food. Well shit...

"Heheheh...good luck Warthog, and ah, you might want to get cleaned afterward." Tomcat, that fucktard.

"Yeah well, fuck you Tomcat."

I swear I hate that fucker, but, he was the favored one out of all of us sadly.

Billy made his way twords me. He looked at me, admiring my 30mm cannon.

"Well...might as well get you ready for training."

"Good luck War-."

"Shit the fuck up Nighthawk."

20 minutes later on the test range....

"Is it ready Billy Boy?"

"Yes General! I loaded it, cleaned it, and checked to perfection!"

"You semm quite optimistic Billy."

""Ye-s sir *hughh* I am r-ready to..." Billy was clutching his stomach.

"Boy are you OK?" The general asked.

"Yeah, just eaten something bad I guess."

I watched in amusement as Billy was trying to make his way towards me, each step seemed like he was going to puke.

"Sure you can fly Billy?" General was trying to not laugh.

"Yeah I just-" Billy was cut off when he let out the biggest fart imaginable twords Warthog.

Warthog soon dissapeard in a flash of Taco Bell magic. And Taco Bell smell.

"Billy...how did you do that?" General asked.

Billy couldn't think of anything so he simply said.

"My Taco Bell farts are magical, sir"