“CALL OF DOOOOOOOOTY!” you’ll scream as you tumble out of
the back of the plane, plummeting towards the ground with a promise of
thunderous impact. You’ll smile as you
wave your hands around and wait for orders from a British person, preferably voiced
by Bill Murray (the British actor, not the comedian) who will tell you exactly
where to fall and how to avoid dying.
Years of playing Call of Duty, you see, have conditioned
you, one of the Army’s latest batch of paratroopers, to see every situation as salvageable,
unless it’s significant to the plot for you to die at a given moment. And since a major villain has yet to emerge
at this point in whatever war you’re fighting, and he seems unlikely to do so
during a training jump in the middle of West Virginia, you decided to leap out
of a plane without a parachute to see what would happen.
As you continue to race towards the ground, air streaming
past your face in a terrifyingly pleasant way, you’ll start to get a little
worried when no disembodied British voice appears in your ear to tell you how
to break your fall. As you continue to
plummet you will, for a moment, pray to Jesus, both black, white, Korean and Tentacle,
to spare you from this fate. When
nothing comes of that you’ll accept that you’re going to die and hit the ground
at an admirable 200 kilometers per hour.
This will give your body enough force, upon impacting the
ground, to liquefy your organs and shatter your bones as it vainly attempts to
dissipate the potential energy built up during your fall. Later, when someone happens upon your corpse
and reviews the scene, they’ll inform the search effort that “They found you
but it looks like motherfucking Gallagher found you first.” This will make the search coordinator laugh,
which is good because laughter is important in retaining a healthy outlook in
life.
Congratulations on Jumping Out of a C-130 Without a
Parachute!
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