“Ok assholes, listen up. Today we are on a god damn defensive!”
“What the fuck! Best defense is best offense!” Exclaimed Jack disgusted, and threw a piece of paper at the Sarge.
For this, he was punished with doing 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and 10km run!
“Few more years of this bullshit and I’ll get fucking bald!” sighed our hero, and inhaled a cigar “Still, I know I am right! Can’t beat the emus if you’re a sitting duck!”
And with this golden thought, he continued doing push-ups until late afternoon.
***
And guess what? Reality proved Jack right!
For the very next night, while the soldiers were sitting in their little trenches, behind a fuckton of sandbags, with machine gun nest set up all over, the unexpected expected happened!
Jack and Sarge were playing a game of Risk with bullet shells when suddenly, a scratchy little noise interrupted their fun.
*Scrrr Scrrr Scrrr*
“What the fuck was that noise!?” Roared Sarge and jumped up, rifle at the ready.
“Relax man, it’s just your god damn guts. Jeeesus. Go to the shithole, I ain’t listening to that all night!”
No sooner he said that, an emu head popped out from beneath the plank they were using as a gameboard.
The emu looked at Jack, and Jack looked at emu. For a good few seconds, they stared at each other, as if it was some kind of date or love at first sight.
Then Jack took the plank, knocking over all the shell pieces (“Hey, what the fuck are you doing! I was winning that one!”) and whacked the bastard on the head. Over and over again!
Pieces of its brain flew out and it was dead.
“It’s a fucking tunnel! These emus are right under us!”
Soon an alarm was set. Several satchel charges were placed, and the tunneling effort was foiled. Or so it seemed….but….
“Jack, you bastard, there might be another one. Take this!” Sarge tossed him a machete, and pointed to the thick bushland behind the trench “Cut the fuck out of that greenery, see if there isn’t a hole up there or else were’s screwed!”
Jack didn’t hear shit, because he was too busy admiring the machete. Oh, a fine piece of metal it was!
“Shit…I bet you could make a nice close shave with it! I’ll ask that Colonel bastard to let me keep it for personal use!”
Then he went behind the lines and chopped the devil out of whatever plant life he could find while laughing like a maniac.
In fact, so absorbed he was in his task, he didn’t notice the actual tunnel opening not far from where he was chopping. And soon enough, a whole gang of emus had his ass surrounded.
“U!” Exclaimed a particularly thicc bird in broken Aussie. His eyes were burning with hatred, and he was armed with double machine guns and clad in full metal jacket.
Nuff said, that emu looked like one tough bastard.
Jack pointed to himself, faking confusion “Who, me?”
“Ye, u…—“ Before the emu could finish the sentence, its head was slashed off and flew at a nice round arch.
“CUCK!!!!” screeched his comrades in terror. Panicked, and forgetting whatever training they got back in the emu boot camp, they charged at Jack and engaged him in melee!
Now then. You can probably imagine what happened next.
A bloodbath, that’s what. Jack wasn’t having shit with the feathery bastards, he chopped them into pieces and then he chopped whatever pieces remained into even smaller pieces.
And then he pissed at them.
****
A single emu survived. He was but a conscript and was told by his veteran comrades to sit back and see how pros do it. That saved his life.
Now, sticking his overly long neck out of the dighole, he remained a sole witness to that carnage. Not waiting until he becomes the next target, he took flight, making sure to collapse the tunnel behind him. Forget the tunneling attempt, he just wanted to make sure this man-demon couldn’t follow him!
He then gave a report to his superiors.
“Coo Coo Cuck Coooo Cock Cunt Reeee”
(The emu dialect, tho it sounds similar to aussie, is rather incomprehensible when translated to human tongue.)
And thus, the emus first heard of Mad Jack.
Needless to say, at this point in the war, they underestimated the protagonist. But they will rue the day they underestimated him!
They will rue!!!!
***
Back at the camp, the soldiers were having an emu barbecue.
“Man, you chopped them up so nicely, you should be a chef once the war is over!”
But Jack, sucking on a particularly thicc piece of emu rib, laughed it off.
“Haha, what the fuck are you saying, maaan, ahahhaa”
But seeing the other soldier didn’t seem to be joking, Jack serioused. He growled menacingly, embers of rage blazing in his eyes. That’s when the poor conscript knew he fucked up, you don’t fuck with Jack…ever!
“Yo man, ok, you don’t have to be a chef if you don’t wanna…gughaaa?!?!?” Before he could finish his lame-ass excuses, the rib was stuck in his throat and that silenced him the fuck up.
“The war is not over. The war will never be over! Aaaahahahaha!”
And thus, Jack was sentenced to more pushups.