Since my parents were recently killed by wolves in a tragic boating accident, I didn’t have anywhere to go for the holidays. I didn’t want to do retail or customer service, so I entered a winter internship program for the international terrorist organization known as Cobra. Since I couldn’t update my Livejournal or Myspace with pictures of me taken in the bathroom mirror, I kept a diary.
Arrived at Reykjavik and was met by Cobra representative. Flew from Reykjavik to the Cobra North Pole Operations Center on a stealth transport plane. At least, I was told it was a stealth plane. Neon yellow wings, giant snake decals, and a fuselage made of plastic didn’t seem very stealthy to me, but what do I know?
I arrived just in time for the Welcome Banquet. I met Cobra Commander! He’s a lot shorter than I expected. It’s really distracting being able to see yourself talk in the reflection off his helmet.
Note to self: I squint when I talk. Did I always squint when I talked? Stop squinting when you talk.
Was awoken at 4 A.M. by the late arrival of my roommate. He’s some sort of eco-terrorist from Reed. Looks like I’ll be sharing this “Storm-atory” room. Went back to sleep, woke up at 8, and headed to the “Cobra-teria” for breakfast. Already starting to tire of all the terror and snake puns around here.
Reported to the Cobrauditorium at noon for our first briefing. Destro told us how lucky we were to be taking part in one of Cobra’s most diabolical plans of all time. Operation: Viper Claus will be a full-scale assault on Santa’s Workshop. I was met with blank stares when I asked how destroying a bunch of toys furthers Cobra’s global terror agenda. Starting to think I should have just gotten a bartending job.
Spent all day in firearms training with Major Bludd in preparation for the assault. About half the interns were killed in field exercises. I’m not sure how that happened, since we weren’t using live ammunition and these “laser rifles” they gave us are about as powerful as a flashlight. I’m beginning to see some problems with this organization.
Bumped into an Air-Viper in the Cobra-teria and he exploded. A Trouble Bubble exploded after I leaned on it during firearms training. Roommate later mysteriously exploded after falling off the top bunk in the middle of the night. I don’t think this place is OSHA compliant.
Surprise surprise, Operation: Viper Claus was a big fucking bust. We snowmobiled, parachuted, and trekked in before dawn to find guess fucking who, G.I. Fuckin’ Joe, just waiting for us with their film crews ready. I swear to God they only had to glance at one of our troops or vehicles to make them explode. Cobra Commander and I barely escaped by grabbing onto one of the skids on Destro’s helicopter as he fled. Those G.I. Joe jerks even flew little kids in to film a Public Service Announcement on frozen pond safety after they kicked our ass.
I didn’t notice until now, but this place is a Goddamned sausagefest.
Since today was the last day of the internship there was a Farewell Banquet for the 23 surviving interns. Cobra Commander got fucking hammered on Smirnoff Ice and ended up cornering me, slurring on about how awful his high school experience was. I really didn’t need to know about how the kids in the showers made fun of his scaly testicles. But now that I know, I realize that knowing is half the battle.
The other half is lasers.