Note: Although these missions actually happened, I feel the need to state they are entirely fictitious. Some truths have been changed or re-arranged for dramatic effect. Literary allusions are used in a very innocent way.
Note: This ‘story’ is rated AO. It contains coarse language, violence, adult themes, some torture and mental cruelty. No animals were actually harmed during the missions.
The Storm Clouds Gather
Dropbear slammed his fist on the table. “This is not good enough” he spat.
The onlookers cringed and whimpered. Dropbear eyed each member threateningly. “I repeat, when ANZACs aren’t losing, they are winning! When you are FIRST you are winning. If you are not first, you are not winning. Which bit don’t ya understand?” A lot of head shaking too place, and Cotal wrung her hands whilst trying to look conciliatory with a very pleasant smile. It didn’t wash with Dropbear who was immune to that wile.
“Grrrrrrr” growled Dropbear, “meeting is closed. Back to your ’puters.” Dropbear and Wombie flicked the electric prods on and the meeting dissolved in a flurry of agitated fauna fleeing the room.
Dropbear sighed and started to bandage Wombie’s paws. “Where is snake?” he asked curiously. Wombie shook his largish head, and whimpered: “Our under-funded Dirty Tricks Department is targeting the pirates again. We have rather high hopes for this attack.” Dropbear nodded, “yes, snake has made some good moves lately. We’ll wait for his report…and… only he has a knack with those sandgropers”. They both shuddered and glanced behind them.
Later that night whilst on the PC and being hissed at by his partner, Dropbear found inspiration.
Plan 129
“Alright” said Dropbear with a malicious glance at the assembled group, “Plan 129 is now in its operational phase. We have yet to hear how Plan 128 went, but Snake will be reporting in the next few days. Now some of you have wondered out loud” he shot a glare at Hurley who promptly disappeared under the table “why we don’t just play more Galciv”. The group murmured and Dropbear sensed he had hit a raw nerve. “Why? Because that is not the ANZAC way!” The crowd grudgingly nodded and ajm37 clapped spontaneously. Dropbear warmed to his speech, ever the thespian.
“Four score and seven days ago our fathers, and mothers (Dropbear nodded to the female fauna present) brought forth on this continent, a new Empire, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all fauna are created equal”. The room nodded vigorously. “Of-course those who hold the electric prods are presently more equal than others” he said, whilst pushing the on and off button rhythmically. The room cowered again.
“Now we are engaged in a great cold war, testing whether our Empire so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. With that in mind, it is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us. To bring those who threaten our way of life to their knees.” He waved the electric prod around his head, with every eye in the room mesmerized. “You have your missions. Go forth and do what must be done”. The room erupted in a chorus of agreement. The die was set.
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