A couple of years ago, we brought you The Misadventures of the MING Man, Episode 1. MING man gave an account of his adventure that led him to hang out with old friends and new under a bridge. MING Man disappeared after that adventure and failed to tell us anything about himself. He has now re-emerged from the underbelly of society, though. Where has he been? At this point, we really don’t want to know. The aroma of hooker perfume and weed that is leaking out of his pores tells the story.
Here is what you really don’t know, though. Is he real or fiction? Could he be one man or multiple people? Guess you have to read the series to find out! But for today, he tells us his war stories.
The Army Misadventure
I figure you guys think that I am going to start by telling that same tired-ass basic training story. Blah blah fuckity blah Drill Sergeants were hard asses. We got the shit smoked out of us and I saw more dicks than one heterosexual male should ever see. Basic training is not what makes your career interesting because everyone has been there. It’s your experiences after it. I guess you fucking assholes want to hear my war stories. Again, a lot of people have deployed and all the stories are the same. “No shit, there I was, balls deep in (insert lie about getting laid here) and then bang! We get mortared.” In the military, not all war stories have to do with actual combat. We like to call these the misadventure or shenanigan stories.
The Dependapotamus Misadventure
What is a dependa?
Before we get to my story, I need to lay some groundwork. Not a day goes by where I don’t want to punch myself in the cock and my buddies in their cocks for setting me up with this creature. These pieces of shit set me up with a dependapotamus (dependa). For those of you who do not know what that is, it is a wife or ex-wife of a soldier who makes a career of marrying service members for their Housing Allowance (BAH). They are also hideous to look at. These disgusting creatures will marry any dumb private so they can collect the poor dumb bastard’s benefits. Why? Do I look like Steve Irwin? I can’t begin to figure them out.
“I’m talking Mel Gibson fucked up. Goddamn Gary Busey on a bad day fucked up”
The Mission Statement
Everything started out fine. A typical Friday night for single soldiers at Joint Base Let’s Get Fucked Up. Me, Private First Class MING, and my equally stupid new friends wanted to have a night out on the [typical shithole town outside a military installation]. We got our safety brief from the First Sergeant and listened to the commander piggyback off what Top said. Now it is Class Six time to purchase booze and smokes. We commenced to pre-gaming, gaming, and post-gaming at the barracks. Looking back, none of us actually knew what quantities of booze were appropriate for pre-gaming. We left the barracks in a cab two hours later dressed like we bought all of our clothes from a military surplus store. Our destination? The bar. Our Mission? To get drunk and get laid. Seems simple right? This is where you are wrong.
Execution…or lack of it
I was new and naive to army barracks life. I had no clue that there were predators out there that wanted my money. Sure, I knew about the surplus of tattoo shops, laundromats, car lots, and liquor stores. Those were entrepreneurs trying to make a buck. But the dependa is definitely the most dangerous. They hide in plain sight and are unsuspecting. They appear completely harmless, and even fun until they catch you at the watering hole like a goddamn gator waiting for its prey. For their enjoyment, my buddies failed to warn me. Hell, my command didn’t even warn me.
After three hours of being rejected by all the local hotties, I was getting desperate and I was fucked up. I’m talking Mel Gibson fucked up. Goddamn Gary Busey on a bad day fucked up. My buddy Johnson says “Hey MING. Go talk to that girl over there. She is checking you out bro.” I looked over at that 100-pound soaking wet hottie and knew I was in love, man! And she was checking me out. All 300 actual pounds of her were looking at me like I was a damned chicken wing.
I approached and we talked but I do not remember a word I said. Whatever it was, she liked it and we moved to leave. I can hear my buddies laugh in the background as she is leading me out. Holding my hand like it is a damn bull ring through my nose. Do you ever wonder what sheep feel like being led to slaughter?
Panic Mode
I do not remember much after I left the club. We were all over each other in the cab ride back as I recall. I blacked out after that (for my dignity I am saying after here) and woke up in the worst way possible. The next morning I woke up tied to the bed with a handkerchief tied around my mouth and blindfolded…
You know what? MING Man here is getting a little tired of talking and ran out of coffee watered down with whiskey and stripper sweat. If you want to find out what happens to our MING Man and how he makes his escape, find out on Episode 2.
Who does this guy think he is, @TuckerMax