SG Vol. 1 pt. 26

Back in the classroom, I’ve got a small bag of sugar-free gummy bears and I’m sitting at my desk in the front of the room.

“Now, let’s go over your fuckups from the beginning,” I tell them.

Valkyrie looks the most disappointed in herself already.

Let’s start with her.

“Valkyrie,” I say, “you fucked up the most. You took point leading in the first simulation, and there was not a single fucking bit of strategizing. How stupid are you? Do you think that, just because you get appointed leader and organize a flight wing, that that’s everything that needs done? And Vic formation when you know Cutter-class are present? You lined everybody up into a nice row of fucking idiots to get shot down. Furthermore, you flew directly for the objective rather than clearing your surroundings. Had you investigated even a tiny little bit, then it wouldn’t have taken Shitger until the end of the simulation to discover the valley that would have given you sorry little fucks backdoor access to the objective. I gave you the easiest simulation involving Cutter-class and you still fucked it up. In what fucking world do you think the enemy is going to let you approach them head-on without shooting your sorry ass out of the sky?”

Valkyrie’s head has been hanging lower and lower the more I shout at her.

I get up from my desk, walk over to hers, and start placing sugar-free gummy bears on it.

“One for being a fuckup. One for being fucking stupid. Two for leading yourself and the rest of the worthless maggots to their deaths. And three for moping like a sad little bitch because you’ve realized just how fucking pathetic you are,” I explain, adding on an extra sugar-free gummy bear just because. “Shitger!”

“Y-yes, sir!” Shitger shouts back.

“You’re, surprisingly, not a complete fucking idiot. But, you exposed your blindside to the enemy, your reaction times are shit, and you get tunnel vision. Because of that, you get to eat Mr. Brown, Mr. Black, and Mr. Grizzly,” I explain, dropping three of the sugar-free gummy bears onto his desk. “Muscles. You’re too stubborn. Rather than fall back to try and reassess the situation, you charged forward. Even after you crashed, rather than do the smart thing and stay low, you tried to fly back up and got swatted down like an insignificant fly wanting to fuck the first bug zapper you could find. Two bears.”

Somebody’s giggling.

I spin around just in time to catch Samurai try to wipe her smile off her face.

“Something funny, Samurai? Something funnier than a maggot thinking she can take out long-range targets with a couple of tiny P90s? First off, you would have to be the most accurate fucking pilot in service to pull that off accurately and quickly enough to not get yourself shot out of the sky, like you did. Not only that, but you had a full fucking armament of missiles. Why the fuck, if you are so damn insistent on trying to kill them from that distance, would you not use your missiles? They wouldn’t have been able to shoot them all down. If even one missile would have made it through, that could have given Shitger the opportunity to get into the valley without getting shot down. If you’re going to die, make your death worth it. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Samurai answers.

“Ten fucking bears since you pissed me off with that shit.”

I throw the bears at her, some of them landing on the floor.

“Breeder and Worm,” I redirect my attention to them, “I’ll address you two together since you always make the same mistakes and are just so attached by the hip. I don’t give a shit what you two do at night when you think everybody is asleep, but you don’t need to stay on top of each other in combat. All you’re going to do is get in each other’s way. And, if somebody gets heavily damaged during an op, you let them deal with it. You don’t try to fucking play hero and escape with them. That slows you both down and puts you both at risk. If any of you ever get shot down or heavily damaged and are incapable of continuing the mission, you either land and wait until after the mission is complete or you fly away on your own. Otherwise, we need everybody capable focused on the mission, and those who are going to slow it down need to get the fuck back or stay down.”

Five bears go onto each of their desks.

Only one of these brats is left, and she looks ready to cry as soon as I look in her direction.

Never mind. She is crying.

This is why I saved her for last.

She’s just…

I toss the rest of the bag onto her desk.

There were about ten left in there.

“Eat them. All of them,” I order her.

She looks up at me with large, watery eyes.

“Now,” I order.

Filly jumps in her seat, grabs the back, and lifts it up as a tear rolls down her cheek.

“All. Of. Them,” I repeat.

Her stomach is already grumbling, and not because she’s hungry.

“Problem, Filly? I saw you smiling when listening in on that story I was telling earlier. You were laughing with all the others. Are you going to try and skip your punishment while making the rest suffer?” I ask her, leaning over in front of her desk now so that our eyes are right in front of each other.

She quickly shakes her head.

“Then. Eat. If you make me say it one more fucking time then I will personally hold your mouth open and shove them down your throat,” I threaten her.

Finally, she brings the bag up to her lips, opens her mouth, and empties the bag into her mouth.

But, that’s it.

“Chew,” I order.

She starts chewing.

Ten seconds later, I give her a new order, “Swallow.”

She swallows.

“Good. Now, was that so hard?” I ask her.

She looks ready to faint from fear.

Stepping away from her desk, I stand in front of the room and look everybody over.

“Eat,” I order the rest of them.

The rest of these worthless cadets eat their sugar-free gummy bears. I keep a close eye on them to make sure that each and every one swallows and doesn’t try to get out of doing it.

“Aren’t they just fucking delicious?” I ask. “Savor the taste because they won’t taste nearly as good coming out of you, regardless of whether they come out through the top or the bottom. Now, sit there in silence.”

Time to wait.

Fifteen minutes later both Filly and Muscles are holding their stomachs.

Grumbling can be heard coming from the rest of their stomachs.

“Now then. We’re going to go on a run. Three laps around the airfield. If you shit yourself, you’re going to finish your laps while shouting as loudly as you can, ‘I pooed my pants! I’m a little baby who can’t hold in my poopoo! I pooed my pants!’ Do I make myself clear?” I ask them.

I’m sure some of them would be cracking smiles at this point if it weren’t for their troubled stomachs.

This might be crueler than anything my old instructor ever put us through. She was a crazy old and sadistic woman, but she never did anything as inhumane as feed us sugar-free gummy bears. Then again, I don’t even think they were around back then. She probably would have if they were.

She’d be proud of me right now.

“Let’s go!” I shout.

They hesitate to stand up.

“Did I stutter? Get your asses out of your seats, now,” I shout at them.

Shitger and Valkyrie are the only two to get up.

Muscles and Filly are doubled over on their desks.

Samurai is trying to keep a straight face, and Breeder and Worm are holding hands trying to comfort each other in these troubling times of indigestion.

This might be too cruel.