The Enemy's Maneuvers

"The arena had become a labyrinth where split-second decisions and constant attention were required to keep colliding with something; the enemy's maneuvers were an unceasing threat."
--pg. 85


An unceasing threat. Bomb drills and air raid sirens. Jugs of fresh water squirreled away in the crawlspace. 50s era bomb shelter dug in the backyard: concrete lined with naughahyde. I carry four rolls of duct tape on my person at all times. Deploy the trained dolphins to sniff out bombs in the ocean. Surrender all Water Bottles.

There, that guy with the beard-- don't he look Different? Go bust out his kneecap with a rusty crowbar. That'll learn him. Add your seven-year-old daughter to the FBI watchlist. JUST IN CASE. She's been asking a lot of questions recently. You found nuclear plant blueprints mixed in with Babar and The Berenstain Bears.

Add another strip of duct tape to the door and add another layer of tinfoil to the windows. That'll block out anything. Sit there in the dark drinking Jim Beam and cradling a shotgun. If a tree branch scrapes against the side of the house try not to shit yourself.

Increase your investments in Death Rays. For every village bombed, for every man, woman, and child burned, broken and blackened you get a nickel. Go into debit and put a down payment on that big screen Plasma T.V. Now how can you argue with the news? Look how big their heads are!

Put on your blindfold and stumble around in the dark. Are you elected yet?