Posted By: Jillybean<email@example.com>
Date: 23 June 2005, 4:23 pm
"What do they call it?"
Johnson glanced over the young Private, chewing on the end of his cigar as he debated whether or not his subordinate was trying to wind him up. "Son, have you never heard of classical music?"
Jenkins blinked, throwing a desperate look in the direction of his mates. "Uh . . . no, sir."
Rolling the end of his cigar against his tongue, Johnson regarded the young marine. "What do they teach you at school?"
"Sir," Mendoza grinned at them, scrubbing at his closely cut hair. "They teach us how to shoot, sir! Unlike you, sir."
"Watch that mouth," Johnson growled. "And put your damned helmet on."
Grumbling under his breath, Mendoza pulled the skull cap over his head, fastening the webbing under his chin. "It's so damn hot here. Why didn't we pull the cooler shift? Uh . . . sir," he added, off his superior's look.
"Cause I'm too pretty to shiver," Johnson retorted.
Bisenti reached across to pat Jenkins' shoulder. "You alright?" he murmured.
"Sure," Jenkins said quickly. "Fine." He tugged on his chin strap. "I'm just great."
"I still say we'd have been better off in that canyon," Mendoza leaned back in his seat. He lifted his battle rifle, blowing any dust out of the mechanism.
"You know the statistical chances of anything jamming your gun being dislodged in that manner is around three in ten?" Bisenti asked, letting go of Jenkins and sitting up again.
"You know the statistical chances of my next words being 'shut up, Bisenti'?"
"Ladies," Johnson tugged on his cap, eyeing the drop zone that was rapidly approaching. "Are you finished with your tea party?"
"So, what's it called, Sir?" Jenkins asked.
"The Clash, sonny boy, it's called the Clash."
"It's ancient," Bisenti grinned at his CO's offended expression. "Sir, it is."
"It's called 'Rock the Casbah', boy and classics never die."
"Hey like you!" Mendoza exclaimed.
Jenkins allowed himself a small laugh.
"Why we gotta listen to this old stuff, Sarge?"