We had an incident in our unit. One of our pilots went out on a three day pass, partying for a full weekend on the town reporting for jump call less than half an hour before our actual jump and crawled into his 90 ton Antithesis, hung over and running on zero hours sleep over a period of 72 hours. I don't think I need to tell you what happened next. I am sure you saw the reports on the universal news communication channel. My question for you is this, "How by all the hells of all the recognized religions, do I get it thru my pilots' respective skulls, that a full eight hours of sleep is crucial before jump call?".
Signed,
Sleepy "Mecha Pilot" Smurf
Dear Sleepy "Mecha Pilot" Smurf,
I am indeed aware of what took place on Mandor's fourth moon, Titan 27m. If there is a conscious soul in the entire universe that has NOT heard of what happened that day, I will personally buy that entity a round of Snavurm Busters at the classiest dive in town. I would like to take the time to reiterate the events of that cluster-frak though, just for continuity.
Apparently, the pilot jumped his mecha into combat and landed several kilometers off target from the rest of his platoon. At this point, the rapid descent, oxygen mix in the pilot's cabin and his complete lack of sleep for over 72 hours, combined with the nice cozy 82 degree cockpit temperature and the warm fuzzy feeling of the form fitting body length pilot's chair, to put the dumb Snavurm to sleep. He accidentally engaged the mecha to auto walk at a slow but steady rate of 3 kilometers per hour, forward. The mech drudged its way over the berm of the hill it was on, down a grassy pasture, thru a small woodland area, across a small river and out the other side, completely ignoring all enemy contact and exiting the area of operations. The enemy forces completely ignored him, thinking he had sustained damage to his control system or something, and his unit, already one man down, were too hard pressed in combat to even give him a second thought until after the engagement.
Meanwhile, our intrepid hero's Antithesis, plodded down main street, slowly stomping flat every other automobile parked on the left hand side of the road, stripping power lines from all poles on the street, knocking over, squashing, or scattering, all garbage containers that had been set out for collection on the left hand side of the street, and leaving behind footprints in the asphalt, 10 feet wide, 20 feet long, and 15 feet deep, that were so imbedded that they ruptured the local water system and quickly, each became an erupting geyser style fountain in the center of the town's primary transportation artery. Marching on, the sleep walking mech, went in a straight line, leaving the curving main street behind, and began to systematically bulldoze it's way thru the First Saturnarian North Star Nova Cluster Baptist Church who, at the time in question, were absorbed in their quarterly women's auxiliary, charity cake walk, and fellowship luncheon. Trailing decorative red, white and blue bunting, lower leg actuators splattered with cake and icing, and followed by a swarm of elderly old dears, who resembled nothing more than several hundred infuriated Aunt Bea's from the Andy Griffith Show armed with spatulas and umbrellas.
At this point, the mech veered left due to a tilt in terrain, and began to mow down the church's youth center, located next door. It was bring your favorite pet to church day, in the youth building, and hundreds of bright eager faces looked up at their teacher with myriad furry, winged, scaly, wiggly, much loved and adored pets in their laps. When the left lower foot actuator crashed thru the vestibule doors, complete panic and bedlam ensued. Hundreds of children were injured in the incident, but thankfully not one pet got even the smallest of scratches (screw the human rights guys, at least the ASPCA isn't up our arses over this one). Anyway, at this point, the pets got involved, followed closely by their owners and the whole thing devolved into a giant angry parade of destruction, finally culminating on the lawn of the hamlet's courthouse, as the somnambulist mecha tripped over the statue of some old fart in a snavurm hide coat, wielding an antique gunpowder rifle. They say the pilot was still asleep when the mob ripped open the cockpit hatch plate and put the rope around his neck. On a positive note, the children were given the rest of the day off from Sunday school, Mrs. Oakbutton won the blue ribbon for her coconut rum double layer cake, Jimmy Thompson's squirrel built a nest in the skull of the dead pilot, and they are still finding pieces of apple cobbler in the rain gutters and chimneys of every house in town.
The lesson here is this, "Get a good night's sleep or you will wind up hanging dead in a tree in some hick town with a squirrel nest in your left eye."
Sincerely,
Monk "Don't let a squirrel build a nest in your eye socket" Malone
Submitted by Ron Frye#879655