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Pulled apart

December 4th, 2018 Leave a comment Go to comments

Why hell, boy, of course I remember the damn Taffy War! I was in it! I fought alongside thousands of pastel soldiers against those heathen salt water bastards. Hell yes. Nearly lost an eye when they shot salt pellets at my face too. Me and those men were knee deep in wax paper and were lucky to get out alive, though obviously not all of us did. Lost my best friend in that war, you know. Poor old Mickey.

There were all kinds of rumors flying back then about the capabilities the salt waters had built up. No one knew anything about them yet. They were a new breed in the candy world, and a damned mutant one at that. So we knew they were a threat to our territory and weren’t going to take any chances, and the commander sent us on the attack. A bunch of our platoons were dispatched to the coast to beat back their advances and hit them where they lived. We were playing offense, hell yes.

So nobody realized what we were walking into, especially us grunts. All we knew was that tourists were flocking to these resort towns and it was because of these new salty shits. We felt threatened, what can I say? There wasn’t no damned Googlin’ or what have you, there was just your guts, and we all felt the same way. So we dove straight into the thick of the sticky maw of the enemy, determined to show them what was what. Me and eight buddies got tattoos before we shipped out to celebrate the moment the night beforehand. Just two of us left now, but Mickey was the first to go.

I hope you never have to see what I saw, son. It’s haunted me ever since that third day in action. Damn it. See, we were stalking through the hills outside one town when we were ambushed. Those salty asses attacked our flank and the next thing I knew half of us were dead and Mickey was burning to death from an exploded sugar mine. Goddamn it! The mission ended up being a success, but I think about Mickey every night. Hell, his screams wake me up to this day. It was the only day I ever cried.

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