Caribou Starts An Army
Stinky and Caribou decided little Ray was gonna be 4F.
He was younger, he whined a lot and he was stupid. Stinky
said that that was common among Mormons. Ray's father
was a short tyrant with lots of black hair on his arms
and he was always pushing his glasses up his nose. Little
Ray would bullshit on and on about the Great Salt Lake
with his postcards of the Tabernacle Choir. This jerk,
this asshole was not gonna be in their army. Stinky
said no. Ray insisted. Caribou said no and he still
insisted. He'd do anything to be in the army. Anything?
Caribou wanted none of it till Stinky pulled him aside
and lectured him about the nature of real armies. Accord‑
ing to Stinky, armies were made up of people willing
to do anything. Little Ray's desire had to be tested.
They shook on it.
They decided to allow little Ray in the army only if he
agreed to take a physical. The little dope agreed. They
went behind the garage. Caribou and Stinky stood hands
on hips, humming and hawing, kicking the old tire you might
say, as little Ray stood there embarrassed and naked. They
agreed that it was an interesting specimen with its fat
little tits and stubby chopper. Stinky had him bend over
for a closer inspection. His cheeks were speckled round
with freckles. Even his asshole was red. All those freckles
looked like stars and that big red asshole was like to some
supernova in a red and white universe, centered by an honest
to God black hole. To stop all those freckles from ending
up in Ray's asshole, Stinky took a stick and plugged it up.
Shortly thereafter, Stinky and Caribou deserted. The army
had gone chicken shit, taking in creeps like Ray.