It is war...

"It is war... And in war, we win... yes?” Asked my Russian malware fighter friend.

“Yes,” I said as I got ready to open fire on a malware base in Russia.

I shot my way through the door and was seen by a malware purveyor guard.

One hit with my taser and he was on the ground… With his radio having gone off.

Dispatch: “Thought we heard something, what happened?”

Me: “Not sure what you heard, everything’s fine down here dispatch.”

Dispatch: “OK, have a nice day.”

I walked over to where another guard was guarding the malware this base is hiding and shot him with a sleep dart.

Dispatch: “Everything OK over there?”

Me: “Sorry, I just knocked the radio down when I was in the bathroom. Please don’t tell my supervisor.”

Dispatch: “Oh, I see. Yeah, Yeah. OK.”

I collected the malware. Yes, we do win in war.

Foxtrot Lima Yankee down!

"Eyes on Tango," I said as I spotted the fly on the kitchen window.

Another one had gotten in, and Rocky was in a tizzy.

It was my job in the household to kill flies. And I was pretty good at it.

After missing a swat, the fly flew around the kitchen, outside of my view.

“Where are you?” I shouted.

The fly appeared in my vision again.

“Tango spotted, next swat’s got your name on it.”

I moved in slowly, but surely and saw the fly moving on the edge of the counter he was on.

“Uh Oh! Don’t kill yourself, or anything… that honor is mine.”

Another swat grazed the fly and it bounced into the sink, wounded.

“Please, stay alive a little bit longer… so I can kill you myself!”

I turned on the sink and watched the fly go down the drain.

“Foxtrot Lima Yankee down!”

The Chicago Typewriter

"I found a typewriter over here." I said to my partners investigating a malware storage base.

"What? People still use those?" My partners in malware fighting said.

“No, it’s a Chicago typewriter… A Tommy Gun.”

“Oh… what should we do?”

“It seems to be connected to some kind of platform here. I’m not sure what it’s doing here.”

At this moment, the gun comes to life and starts shooting randomly.

“A sentry gun! Watch out!” I warned my compadres.

We ducked and covered in safe places until the gun ran out of ammo.

I decided to make a call to Headquarters so they could collect the gun.

“Headquarters, I’ve got some kind of robot gun over here. Can you roll a collection unit to our location?”

“10-4, we’ll send some guys over to you.”

With that, I ended the call.

“Well guys, HQ is on their way. Let’s move on.”