No shoes, No service
The team had gathered for its last practice before the M1 Rattle Battle meet, Haul Ass version.
Howard finally arrives, but instead of packing gear he's pushing one of those chairs with wheels, his right knee firmly planted on it, and with the attached foot wrapped in some sort of cast.
WTF happened to you? Seems he walked into his ammo storage room in bare feet and somehow managed to drop a full can of LC onto his foot from a height of somewhere's around 18 - 24 inches. Damn.
When we asked WTH were you thinking, he said "funny, the XO was asking me the same question at the hospital".
We still shot the match and did fine, but with one member short our scores weren't included in the final tally's.
Out of luv for our brother we had a nicely printed and framed sign made up that says "No shoes, No service".
The XO nailed it the the door of the ammo room.
Consider yourselves advised....
anonymity is underrated
Unfair. Unbalanced. Unmedicated.
Newton's Third Law is a motherfucker.
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