Army Operating With Mannequin Troops, Says Soldier-Reporter

cting quick on the heels of Thursday's stunning blow to Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, the journalism's newest reporting hero, Spc. Jerry Wilson, shook the civilian world again when he revealed at least 30% of the Coalition troops operating in Iraq are, in fact, mannequins. White House and Pentagon sources would not verify or refute the claims, as they fled running from the hard-biting overnight sensation rocking the national media.

The allegation, if proven true, could be more bad news for an embarrassed U.S. government, who had to answer to Wilson's charges Thursday that American troops were being put in harm's way by being sent into battle without proper armor, due to military cutbacks. The question stunned Sec. Rumsfeld, who had only come to shmooze photos with the troops and receive questions on how come the U.S. military was so awesome, dude. Spc. Wilson described instances when U.S. troops dug through dumpsters to find refuse they could use to layer the tanks for better safety.

Wilson followed that coup-de-grace on Saturday, at a ribbon-cutting ceremony for a newly unveiled Kuwaiti McDonald's, charging that at least 45,000 of the U.S. soldiers serving in Iraq and overseas are mannequins, realistic-looking plaster models of real troops. A startled, non-English speaking Ronald McDonald had no comment.

"It's a tragedy, nothing short of a tragedy," Spc. Wilson eloquently spoke, addressing the many burger-loving Kuwaiti citizens and throngs of media, "that the United States would send its troops into danger so under-prepared to meet the threat of real, living terrorists. In a live combat situation, a solider has to be able to depend on the man guarding his back. If that man is, in fact, a doll, it makes for high casualties and even higher numbers of men killed in action."

Such news, if verified, gives fuel to opponents of the war in Iraq who accuse the Bush administration and its invisible allies of initiating the "regime change" with poor planning and a military force not ready for a combat operation of such a scale.

Defense Secretary Rumsfeld has been under fire for his answer to Thursday's question, "You go to war with the Army you have, not the Army you might want or wish to have." Rumsfeld, hiding under his desk at the Pentagon, was found by reporters and offered a Woody Allen-esque stuttering reply. "That's a good, uh, good question. We, er, that is to say, the government… who we all are, the government, you know… we are looking into, um, the, er, charges of this, uh… what was the name of the guy you wanted again? Oh, Rumsfeld! He left for the day. I'm, uh… Fumsreld."

While no one would go on record to confirm or deny the allegations, some sources in the Pentagon agreed to speak on the condition of anonymity, and that we at the commune would buy lunch. Applebee's, of course.

"What do you think we meant by 'stop-gap' measures to deal with the military shortage?" said one four-star general, whom we'll call General Mills. "It means, 'Stop asking for more troops, 'cause we got none—here's some replacements from the Gap, though.' You got a problem with it? Enlist, wiseguy."

Soldiers in the field were less willing to talk with us, even off the record, and some could not even open their mouths, refusing to move entirely while in our presence.

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I'm happy to inform everyone following my adventures I have made some headway in my efforts to redesign how the commune is managed. Red Bagel finally agreed to cut some of the office fat and fire three employees whose jobs are redundant. Of course, the catch was I had to be two of the employees—I'm not even sure how the physics of that works out, it would apparently at least involve him firing me twice. Needless to say, I put off accepting that deal until I can reach some sort of agreement with him in which other redundant employees are fired and I'm allowed to retain my position. But still, it's progress.

Don't let this leave you with the impression I like firing people. It's the least favorite part of my job, or it would be, if I was allowed to do it. I suppose it might rank in the bottom 5, actually, maybe between cleaning Bagel's birdcage and plucking the feathers off Bagel's bird. It would easily be one of the four or five least enjoyable parts of my job description, if they'd let me do it as I've been asking for years.

I've fired people before, of course. At my old website, poopoftheday.com, I unfortunately had let my mother go when it became apparent the website wasn't making enough money to support more than one employee, or even one, and although she wasn't technically being paid for her services, it sent a clear message to potential future stockholders we were serious about making major changes. Mom was quite upset, and refused to give me a ride to work after that, but it takes a strong stomach to run a tight ship. And hard abs.

In fact, between you and me, I fired quite a few people during my tenure running the commune last year, and only had yet to inform them they were let go. Editor Bagel, in his infinite exact opposite of wisdom, saw fit to retain those employees to keep doing whatever the hell it is they do here, but that would have been far different if I had the paper to print those memos firing them all. It wasn't easy for me, from any angle, as mom was quite dismayed to find out I didn't have the opening to hire her on after all. I had planned a real swift and brutal housecleaning here at the commune, for the good of the company, and like mom is quick to remind, I never clean anything. But some day, I'm sure, all the anchors holding the commune down will be severed and we'll be free to sail free.

You might be wondering, what does it take to make a good boss? I assure you, it is not, as Mr. Bagel believes, "deep pockets and an occasional bare-assed paddlin'." Not that I would mind having either. No, the secret to good management of a staff is trust. I repeat, in italics, trust. Once you have your employees' trust you can do whatever you want to them and they'll never see it coming. Of course, plotting out their firings years ahead of time and claiming it was a necessity caused by the current market is the easy part. Getting there trust—how in the world does a boss do that? Being infinitely smarter and correcting their mispronunciations of simple words isn't the way.

If I had to follow Red Bagel's example, apparently dressing like a riverboat gambler and calling all your employees "suh," regardless of their sex, is the way to success. Spending more time chasing pigeons in the park with a cane made of human bone rather than in the office, this must be one way of earning employee loyalty. Or it could be as simple as picking the smartest member of your staff and subjugating him to the most humiliating meetings and stick him in the most demeaning position available. Who knows, perhaps it's all these things.

Of course, who really needs the commune? According to the letter from FCC Chairman Michael Powell, nobody. And I have to agree. Maybe it's time I gave up on turning the commune into my alternative news website ideal, and concentrated on spreading my wings and soaring to new heights. Of course, I have the feeling I'd get swatted down by Bagel's bone cane if I tried.

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You know how you can really piss off a total stranger? Insist they don't know anything about tennis. Everyone from John McEnroe down to Tommy Chong will take offense at a statement like that. Doesn't matter if they've never picked up a racquet before in their lives. It's like a self-esteem thing or something. Everybody likes to think they know about tennis.

Or even better, lump them in with an entire group of people who don't know anything about tennis. You'll be lucky if you make it out of the room alive.

"I don't care what anybody says, the Russians don't know shit about tennis."

This works even better if they're not even Russian, because then they're twice pissed. Once because you think they know jack about tennis, then all over again because you thought they were Russian. You're begging for a belt-whipping at that point. Even if they themselves think Russia is kind of cool, they'll still assume you're trying to start some shit by the insinuation.

Don't even try bringing it up in a fancy restaurant, unless you know how to Jackie Chan your way out of there. People who eat at fancy restaurants are especially insecure about their grasp of tennis. It's like the saying goes; there are a few things you just can't bring up in pleasant conversation. The KKK, botched abortions, tennis, gay sex… there are a few more, I can't remember the whole quote right now.

After you've got a guy fired up about you thinking he knows dick about tennis, a good strategy to push him to the edge is to accuse him of making up words. This is classic. If he says something like "Actually, I'm quite familiar with tennis, I've been a member at the club since I was an adolescent." You counter like "Adolescent? Cripes man, are you autistic? Speak English." I once had a guy try to kill me with an ice statue of a duck after I used that one. Thank God ice sticks to your hands, or I might be walking around wearing a frozen mallard hat to this day.

Every once in a while you'll come across some hotshot who actually is a tennis pro of some sort, the dude looks like Ivan Lendl because he is Ivan Lendl. Don't worry, you're not as screwed as you might think in this situation. If he starts quoting off obscure rules or matches, just start mixing up sports. "Well, that makes sense, if you're bowling, but I'm talking about tennis." If the dude just won't give up, the coup de ville is to say "Oh, you're right. That IS tennis. I was thinking about rugby. You really play tennis? Pretty gay, dude." They you walk away like you can't believe you wasted your time talking to him. I did that once at Wimbleton after I wandered over from a stag party across the street where the toilet was busted and that guy was so pissed I thought his mustache was going to kill me all by itself.

All this just goes to show that everything in life has a purpose. It's like golf. I used to think golf was pointless until I realized what it really is. They give you weapons, stick you in a little car and say drink all you want. It's like being in South America, anything goes. The holes are just there so you have old people to slalom around.

Same thing with tennis. For years I thought it was there just to keep weekend TV from being too fun. You know, some kind of conspiracy run by bars and movie theaters and shit. Then I realized it's like a built-in argument starter. Dude doesn't even have to speak English, if you can pantomime "You don't know a goddamned thing about tennis" you've got yourself a bar fight, in any culture. It's like a gift from the shit-starting Gods.

Bricks out.

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