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The Marines, the SAS, and the Metropolitan Police (Stateside: read the Marines, Delta Force, and the NYPD), who are all rivals, have challenged one another to a survival course to see who are the best. On the last day of the course the Instructor says he's taught them all they need to know, and they should now be fit to head off into the woods and catch themselves a rabbit. They are to skin and cook it, and then eat it, this being the final part of their survival test.
"Okay," he says to the SAS, "You guys go first." Almost immediately the SAS have melted into the darkness. There's deadly silence for a few moments... then a barely-audible 'phut-phut'... more silence... then suddenly the instructor feels a tap on his shoulder. Standing there are the SAS with a rabbit, cleanly killed by a double-tap to the back of the head.
"Very good," says the instructor, clearly impressed. "Okay, now it's the Marines' turn." The Marines put down their beers and porn mags, smudge on their camoflauge paint, grab their weapons and, with bloodcurdling cries, charge into the woods. There are shouts, shots, and bursts of flame for some five minutes. Then the bombardment ceases, the shouts get louder and the Marines crash back into view, one of them holding up a rather burned and bloody rabbit.
"Well, you got the job done," says the Instructor. "Okay, Police, your turn." And flat-footed, the Police stroll off into the woods, hands behind their backs. Soon there is silence. And apart from the odd burst of radio static, there is no sign of them for hours. Only just after midnight do they return, holding a creature which is most certainly not a rabbit.
"What the fuck d'you call this?", asks the instructor. "This isn't a rabbit, it's a fucking squirrel! I told you to get a rabbit! Go back and damn well get a rabbit!"
There's no sign of the Police for another few hours, and it's nearly dawn by the time they arrive back at the camp. "Well," says the Instructor, "I hope you've got your act together this time." He looks at the Police, and his face turns to thunder. "What the fuck do you call that?", he roars, looking at the battered, bloodied squirrel the Police have brought back with them. The Police shoot the wretched creature a menacing glance. "Alright, alright," sobs the petrified squirrel, "I'm a rabbit, I'm fucking rabbit!" |
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