Mowing the Yard or “The Green Horde”
Mowing the Yard
Because of Main Battle Unit equipment failure I find myself surrounded by my arch enemy, the dreaded…Green Horde! And they are emboldened by the recent rains. I fear the worst is inevitable…the camp will be overrun by the little green bastards! WAR IS HELL!
As the sun strolled over the eastern horizon the day dawned with a glimmer of hope. My battlement was repaired but untested. The enemy, I knew, was dug in and proven in battle to be tenacious. I, alone with my single war implement, stood at the verge of the day’s arena. I beheld my enemy gloriously arrayed on the field of battle in verdant splendor, a fantastic and formidable foe!
The lust for victory was overwhelming. Driven by primitive forces I stepped onto the bloody plain and was compelled to join the fray. My war machine thundered as I threw myself headlong into the center ranks of the enemy. The Green line faltered as I charged in, but they showed their warrior fibre and quickly regrouped. I was undaunted and fearlessly fought step by step blade to blade against the Horde.
Slowly the tide began to turn as I and my machine mowed down line after line of the fearsome enemy. One on one they were no match for me, but en masse they were a force to be reckoned with. And as they marshaled their numbers in thickening swarms my progress was slowed, but never stopped! I battled the Green Horde there under the mid-day sun until exhausted and battle worn I vanquished the last remnant of the teeming scourge. The fallen corpses of my enemy lay at my feet to be trodden under and sent back to the earth from whence they came. What had been, only moments before, a melee of tumult and chaos was now a silent relic of the carnage and horror of war. I had taken the day, the battle was mine. I gathered my weapon and somberly retired from the field. It will be an ephemeral victory.