by Timothy V. Gatto
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CHAPTER 30 The next day Patty did his usual black marketing. He stopped off at the frog and got an early start on his drinking. It was sunny, but extremely cold and windy. He couldn't believe that it was spring. It felt more like mid winter. The stop at the frog was a necessity. His body was almost numb because of the cold. The hot whiskey and tea he drank not only gave him a slight buzz, but also returned some of his circulation. Besides the tea and whiskey, he popped some speed. It wasn't long before he was ready to party. It was too early to party in town, so he decided to go back to the compound and get some company. At this time of day, the majority of the crew would be down at the NCO Club, so that's where he headed. The crew was in the club celebrating their previous night's victory over the BC, but the party was officially for passing the CRE. It really could not have been any other way because the BC was the one buying the drinks. The launching area was there too, after all, they had been the other half of the crew on duty. A few Air Force officers were there too. They had been invited to stop in by the Commander. They were TDY from Vietnam to do a stint at the local bombing range to the northeast of Foxtrot. They were also buying drinks. By the time Patty arrived at the club, everybody was well on their way to a good hangover. The guys were happy to see Patty. His stature had gone up with the crew for standing up to the BC. As much as the crew liked him, the BC and the First Shirt disliked him. That made him even more popular among the guys. Patty was sitting at a table near the bar with Wagner, Big 0, and Phillips. Patty was drinking cans of Falstaff and shots of bourbon. He was feeling no pain at all. The guys were complaining about the country music on the jukebox so Patty got up from the table, walked over to the jukebox and reached around the back and hit the reject button. Hank Williams stopped singing about being so lonely and Led Zeppelin started in with "Whole Lotta Love" This freaked the officers out. They hated that hippie shit. They told Patty to turn that shit off. Patty acted as if he didn't hear them, and sat down at the table. The Commander walked over to the jukebox, rejected the song, and same other cowboy began to sing about his pick up or horse, or whatever it was that cowboys sing about. The conversation at the table was getting good. Phillips was telling about how he had gone to bed with his girlfriend's mother. They had all heard this story before, but Phillips just got funnier each time he told it. The Air Force officers were telling war stories to some of the officers of Foxtrot, and Patty couldn't help but overhear. One of the officers, a young Captain, was particularly offensive. He not only talked louder than the others, but the things he said were really disgusting. He really seemed to be in love with his job, and his job was bombing North Vietnam. Not that bombing North Vietnam offended Patty, it didn't. What bothered Patty was the way he described it. One of the Army officers asked him how they managed to avoid civilians, the Air Farce officer answered that they didn't and that in fact, it was one of the prime objectives. "Not officially, of course." He laughed. "You're kidding, aren't you?' Asked Lt. Collins. "No, I'm not lieutenant." the Captain answered. "Fuck them little gook babies. Fuck all them slimy gooks. Every time I drop a bomb I see a little gook arm go flying in the air. If it were up to me, I'd nuke the whole fuckin' place." Patty looked at the man. He was drunk, and so was Patty. The war offended Patty because he felt that it was useless. He had been for it in the beginning stages, but when he saw that the politicians had no intention of going all out for victory, he was sickened by the senseless slaughter for no apparent reason. He wanted the U.S. to pull out. This Captain talking about killing gook babies represented all of what he had leaned to despise. "Is that what you wanted to be when you were a kid Captain. Did you tell your mother you wanted to grow up and be a baby killer?" He asked sarcastically. "Who the Fuck said that?" asked the Captain. "I did." Patty replied. You're a real wise ass, aren't you sonny?" said the Air Force Captain. "No, I'm not a wise ass, I'm just sick of hearing about you heroic exploits in babycide." Patty said defiantly. "You never been to "Nam. You don't know shit kid. If you went there you would understand." he said. "I hope I never understand the things you understand. Killing enemy soldiers is one thing. Killing innocent civilians is another." Patty said. "Nobody is innocent over there." the Captain replied. "And who the fuck are you, God? Who gave you the right to decide who should live and who should die?" Patty was pissed. "Fallica, At Ease!" The BC commanded. "Sit down and shut up. This man is a guest at our club."" "Yes sir," Patty said and sat down. The Air Force officer glared at Fallica. Patty sat at the table and glared back. "I guess the Army sent all the punks to Korea." the Air Force officer said loudly to no one in particular. Patty rose from his, seat and turned to the BC. "I don't have to take that shit from this asshole sir!" he yelled. "Who you calling an asshole, punk?" said the Air Force Captain. "Who do you think?" Patty answered. That was all it took. The Air Force Captain came off of the bar stool and toward Patty. Fallica didn't expect it and took a hard right under his left eye. He fell back over the table, knocking drinks and cans of beer on the floor. The Air Force officer stood over Patty in a fighting stance. The blow had sobered Fallica up considerably. Rage seemed to consume him, He picked himself up off of the floor and out of the corner of his right eye he saw the Captain's foot coming toward him. He dodged to avoid the blow and found himself on the floor again. instinctively, he kicked out at the Captain and his foot caught him just below the knee, on the leg he had his weight on. He went down too. As they were both getting up off the floor, Patty took a swing, and landed a blow against the Captain's cheek. Patty got up, the Captain went down. The next thing that Patty knew, The BC and some of the other men were restraining him. Fatty was being held from the back and he couldn't move. The Air Force Captain was being helped up. Suddenly, the Air Force Captain pushed the person away, and lurched towards Patty, punching him in the right ear. Patty heard his ear ring loudly. He tried to break free of the man holding him. He later learned that it was Lt. Collins. He was held too tight to break free. Some of the guys from IFC grabbed the Air Force Captain before he could inflict more damage to Patty. The club was silent. All eyes were turned to the combatants. The BC was glowering with rage. "Leave the club Fallica. I want you in my office first thing in the morning!" He screamed. Patty walked away in a furious rage. He'd be there tomorrow he thought, and if the Captain wanted to press charges against him for the fight, he'd press charges of his own against that asshole Air Force Captain. The next morning Patty reported to the Captain. As he expected, the Captain had drawn up an Article 1S. Patty refused to sign it. The Captain told Patty that he would bring it to a court martial. Patty explained to the BC that the Air Force Captain had hit him first. The BC disagreed, and told Patty that he had four officers that would testify that it was Fallica that threw the first blow. The BC also explained that he could also charge Patty with in subordination. He promised Patty that if he signed the Article 15, he would not restrict him to compound, nor would he reduce him in grade. Patty signed. Fallica was called down from the hill later on that day. He was read the punishment. Restriction to compound for thirty days, a fine of two hundred dollars, and reduction to PFC. Patty stared at the Battery Commander with his mouth open. "You promised no restriction and no bust!" he protested. "Do you have anything in writing?" He asked. "No, all I had was your word." Patty replied. The Battery Commander looked at Patty with disgust. "Fallica, you're lucky I didn't charge you with mutiny over that dog thing on the hill. Consider yourself lucky to have any stripes at all." He said. "I want to appeal to the Colonel!" Patty said. The Captain stared and started to turn red. "Don't threaten me Fallica!" he screamed. "I'm not threatening you sir. It's my right to appeal." Patty replied. "Go ahead and appeal. You just go ahead. Do anything you want to do. Just be prepared to face reality." he said coldly. Patty went up to the hill and drafted his appeal. In his letter to the Colonel, he explained exactly what happened. He made two carbons. One of the carbons he kept, and one he sent to the Colonel in a letter. He delivered the original to the Captain the next morning. As Patty was leaving the Orderly Room, the First Sergeant waved him over to his desk. He reached into the drawer. "Put these on." he said. Patty reached out and took a small package from the First Sergeant. He opened it. Inside were PFC pins. He put them on. Back at the barracks the crew was furious at the situation. SSG Brown had even come up to see how Patty was taking it. Brown told Patty he should have taken a court martial. He offered to speak to the Colonel. Big O wanted to put a contract out on the BC. He thought that he could have his arm broken for less than fifty bucks. This worried Patty because he knew that it was possible, and he was in enough trouble, so he told Big O not to do it. The weather cleared up and the days were getting warmer. Suddenly, in a matter of days, the vegetation turned green, and life around the compound became busier. Patty wanted to get the hell off compound. Besides driving him crazy, this restriction was really bad for business. Murphy was doing some errands for mamasan, and Patty was worried that he might take the whole operation over. The nights were still pretty cold. A few of the space heaters on the hill had taken a shit. Patty enjoyed taking them apart and putting them back together. Everyone congratulated him on his mechanical expertise when he fired them up and they actually worked, but Patty had no idea why they worked. He figured that they just needed cleaning. Fallica was knee deep in carbon and diesel fuel when a call came up to the hill ordering him to come down for Friday retreat formation. This incensed Fallica. He asked SSG Brown why he had to go. Brown told him that they probably would read his Article 15 to the Battery, and the Captain would want him to be there. Patty was fit to be tied. He put on his field jacket and took the truck down to formation. The formation had already started when Patty drove up. He jumped out of the cab and fell, in with Paddlefoot's crew. Paddlefoot asked him why he was so dirty. Patty explained that he hadn't had time to wash up. He really felt disgusting and out of place. The First Sergeant addressed the formation. He accused the unit of shamming. He told them that from this day forward, there would be no more shamming at Foxtrot. Somebody in the formation wanted to know what the hell shamming was. He was told to shut up. The First Sergeant then turned the unit over to the BC. The Captain came out with his lieutenants and they replaced the platoon sergeants and the First Sergeant. The Captain yelled out for persons to be decorated front and center. Patty was pissed. He couldn't believe that he was actually called down from the hill to watch this. He wished that the Captain would have a stroke or something. Fallica was lost in his reverie of revenge when he felt a nudge at his elbow. He turned toward the nudge, annoyed. It was Paddlefoot. "Go on Fallica." he said. "Go on what?" he asked. "Go on up to the front of the formation." he said impatiently. "Yeah right. Real funny." Patty said. "I'm serious. Get up there." he said this loud enough so that more than a few people were looking at them. Patty guessed that Paddlefoot was serious. He couldn't believe they were actually going to read his Article 15 with him standing in front of the whole formation. Fallica was mortified. Besides his shame, he looked like a hobo, covered with soot as he was. He walked to the center of the formation and stood at attention. Inside he wanted to hide. He actually wanted to cry, he was so embarrassed. The BC came in front of him and stood at attention also, with Lt. Collins at his left. Lt. Collins started to read from a paper he had in his hand. "To be promoted to Sergeant E-5, Specialist Four Patrick J. Fallica." he proclaimed. Patty was dumbfounded. He turned his head and looked at the lieutenant. He smiled at him and winked. Patty then turned and looked at the BC who was not smiling at all. "You look like shit Fallica." The BC said under his breath to Patty. The Battery Commander and Lt. Collins stood on both aides of Patty and removed his PFC pins and in their place, put on the sergeants chevrons. "I'll get these back before you leave Sergeant Fallica." The BC whispered v "No you won't." Patty replied confidently. Formation was over after the playing of retreat. The flag went down, and the Battery was dismissed. Paddlefoot came over to Patty and told him to report to the Orderly Room. Patty wondered what the hell was going on now. He felt that he lived in the Orderly Room lately, and almost told Paddlefoot he should move his bunk in there. He saw the Colonel's jeep parked in front. The First Sergeant told him to report to the Colonel. He walked toward the BC's office, knocked on the door and waited until he heard the Colonel tell him to come in. "Sergeant Fallica reports." Patty saluted and after the Colonel returned the salute, he dropped it and stood at attention. "Sit down Sergeant." The Colonel said gently. Patty sat down. He was acutely aware that he looked terrible with his sooty black fatigues, and his black eye. "I received your appeal Fallica." The Colonel said. "I received your appeal and I amended the punishment. That's why you got promoted today. As I said, I amended the punishment so you could get promoted. I saw your name on the promotion list. By the way, you just barely made the board." The Colonel paused and sat, looking for a reaction from Patty. He didn't get one. "I didn't want you to lose two stripes over this affair. I figured that one was enough. You see, your orders were cut before you received the Article 15. I still had a dilemma on my hands because the Captain doesn't have the authority to bust an E-5 or above. That authority rests with a field grade officer. Since you were promoted before the bust, the Captain couldn't impose the reduction. It's a catch twenty two. Am I making any sense?" "Yes sir." Patty could see what happened. "I came out this afternoon to administer the Article 15 myself. After I read the charges, I felt that promoting you to E-5 was not in the Army's best interests. I was going to remove the fine and the restriction, and leave the reduction in place. The reduction by the way would have been from E-5 to E-4." he said. "So am I busted hack to E-4?" Patty asked. "If I didn't talk to Lt. Collins you would be giving me the stripe back at this moment, but it seems that there was a difference in opinion about who hit who first." "The Air Force Captain hit me first Sir." Patty said defensively, "That's what Lt. Collins said. He volunteered the information by the way. I believe him. I'm going to throw out the Article 15 entirely. "Thank you Sir." "I want you to understand something Fallica. I want you to understand that because we have a democratic government doesn't mean that we have a democratic army. We do the job that the commander in chief asks us to do. We don't vote on it or have individual opinions on it. That part of an issue is left up to the citizenry and the government. We are only instruments of that government. Other countries have military establishments that get involved with issues. Since the military establishments have such raw power in those countries, it inevitably ends up in a military dictatorship, or a government that no longer bends to the will of the people, but to the will of their military." "I understand sir. " "I want you also to understand that the man you fought with was sent out of Vietnam because he is suffering a major depression after missing his military target and hitting a civilian populated area. The flight surgeon has sent him to ASCOM to he evaluated because they believe him to be suicidal. Part of what he said in the club was no more than an act. He a deeply troubled man who will probably never be the same again. I would like you to draft a letter of apology. Not for defending yourself, but for butting into a conversation that you didn't belong in." "I'll do that sir." Patty said earnestly. "I also want you to think about what I said on a democratic army. Do you know that the Russians got their ass kicked in Finland because they elected their officers by a popular vote. It seems they elected them by popularity instead of military skills. They scrapped that procedure. I know about the incident with the dog. If anything like that happens again, I'll have your balls. Do you want to keep your balls Sergeant?" "Yes sir." "Then get out of here and fix the rest of those space heaters. If I ever hear your name again it had better be about something good." "Yes Sir." Patty saluted and hurried out of the BC's office. He winked at the First Sergeant as he walked past his desk. "Fuck up and move up" he thought. He got into the truck and started up the hill. The crew was enthusiastic about the promotion. Patty was the center of attention as the crew slapped him on the back and shook his hand. He had to excuse himself after awhile to head to the latrine. Once inside he turned to make sure that nobody followed him. When he was sure he was alone he walked up to the mirror and looked at the stripes on his collar. "Sergeant Fallica" he thought. "Hot shit!"
CHAPTER 31 Patty would close the hood and bring his arms inside the parka. Using his fingertips, he would open the hood from the inside and slowly his head out inch by inch. " I'm being born!" he would exclaim. It always got a laugh. Fallica found another routine. He called it driving the First Sergeant crazy. The crew had been playing with a Frisbee on the hill. Murphy had told Patty the next day, as they were walking through the admin area that he wished he had brought it down from the hill so they could play. Patty ran to the side of the BOQ and he made believe that he was throwing the Frisbee to Murphy. Murph didn't understand until Patty exaggerated the next throw and yelled at him to catch it. Murphy caught on and simulated a spectacular catch over his head. "Great catch, Murph!" Patty yelled. At just this moment, Granny and the First Sergeant were leaving the orderly room for the messhall. Granny saw them playing. "What are you guys doing?" he called. "Playing catch, Gran, what the hell does it look like?" Patty said. "What the hell are you playing catch with? I don't see anything." "You can't see anything because there is nothing here. " Patty was suddenly inspired. "It's all a big sham. We're shamming." Murphy caught on immediately and started to laugh. "Yeah Gran, we're throwing the sham. Were shamming." He said through his laughter. The First Sergeant glared at then, turned and walked briskly toward the mess hall. Granny called to Patty. "Throw it to me!" he cried. Patty made an imaginary throw towards Granny, and he simulated making the catch between his legs. "Check that style'" Murphy shouted. "What a sham artist!" Patty exclaimed. The First Sergeant turned and saw his company clerk throw the so called sham over to Murphy. "You're really shamming now Gran!" Patty called to him. The practice of shamming spread throughout the Battery like a rumor. It wasn't long before it had developed into an art. People were shamming on duty and off, catching the sham behind the back, in the air, and even upside down. Shamming was a very imaginative sport. It was adopted quickly because it could be played anywhere, anytime, and because it drove the First Sergeant crazy. First Sergeant Marshall could do nothing to stop the practice, and this just added another reason for him to drink. He drank more now than he did when he arrived at Foxtrot. He told himself it was because this was by far his worst assignment, He swore in letters to his wife, that it would also be his last. This just wasn't his type of Army anymore The younger soldiers asked "why" all the time. He wasn't used to soldiers questioning authority. His way of doing things left no room for questions. He had put in his paperwork for retirement to be effective at the end of this tour. Captain Williston didn't appreciate this new game either. He noticed that even his officer were playing. He knew that unless he could find a reason to stop it, any protest against shamming would be interpreted by the Unit members as just another way to break their balls. He was also worried about the First Sergeant. He noticed the drinking. He also noticed that Marshall would sometimes go into a fog at times. The Captain talked about it with the Battalion Commander. He described it to him as "going vacant", One minute Top would be there, and the next minute, he wouldn't. He had seen him do this a couple of times. Once in the BC's office, they were talking about this new thing that the men had invented. The First Sergeant thought that Fallica had started it. The Captain replied that he wasted a reason to outlaw the game. The First Sergeant didn't reply. He just stared out into space. The BC tried to get him back by yelling his name. Nothing happened. He was gone, somewhere in the ozone layer. Captain Williston stared at him for a few minutes, and as if by magic, the First Sergeant just resumed the conversation as if nothing had happened. During a telephone call with Battalion, the BC caught him doing it again. He seemed to be getting flustered with the questions they were making him answer. He saw the First Sergeant rummaging around his desk looking for different papers and talking a mile a minute. Suddenly he just stopped talking in mid sentence and started staring at the wall. It made the BC nervous. Williston worried that one of these days he might not snap out of it. Shamming went on. It was amazing how the seriously they played. The men had actually invented rules and regulations, Most of the rules were as simple as the game itself. The number one rule was that the action had to look as real as possible. For instance, you couldn't just throw out a hand if somebody yelled "catch!" Also, if a sham were thrown at two people, one of them had to call it, they both couldn't catch it. Another odd rule was that if a person missed it, that person had to go get it. This could he hysterical when it landed somewhere like the orderly room roof, and a player climbed up to retrieve it. The Koreans started playing it too. The security guards started throwing shams on guard duty. The people in the village had fun in the streets with their own shams. Sometimes visitors from K-6 or ASCOM would think they had entered a lunatic asylum on arrival. They would stand open mouthed as men leapt in the air and made fantastic catches. The attraction of this game was that you could be as good as you wanted to be. Every heroic catch you could imagine could be made with a sham. After a little exposure, they too would become converts to the sport. Shamming epitomized a tour of duty in Korea. Playing this game with something that was really wasn't there to begin with, was similar to playing with weapons that you really couldn't shoot, or making love with women you really couldn't love. The whole country was a contradiction. Everyone walked around with spit shined boots they didn't have to shine, lived in squared away barracks they didn't have to clean, and did a job that very few people back in the world appreciated. It made as much sense as catching a sham.
CHAPTER 32
Brown was already there waiting for them, leaning back on a stool. Patty always felt that he were at a meeting of the underground because it was always so dim in the shack. He had meant to replace the undersized light bulb, but it had always slipped his mind. Brown smiled and asked Wagner and Fallica to make themselves comfortable. This meant pulling up a five gallon paint can. "I'm getting short boys." He started. "Going to go back to the world. I never thought I'd see round eyed women again, but I guess they can't live without me." Wagner and Patty laughed politely. This was as close to humor as SSG Brown ever got. "The crew has to have a new section chief. I've been thinking about this for a long time. I've discussed the situation with Lt. Moore, and he told me that he would accept any decision I make." he continued. "I thought that this was all decided!" Patty interjected. "Kool is going to take over. That's what we planned. That's why I took this stripe!" "Wagner doesn't want to be section chief." Brown countered. "Can't make him do it. Besides, he's getting short too." "Then who's going to do it?" Patty asked. "I can't do it. I'm only eighteen years old for Christ sake!" "Well, I thought about it. I figured that you didn't want all that responsibility, even though I think you'd make a great section chief. I'm going to get Adams to come over from the other crew." Brown stated. Patty looked at Wagner. He was just looking at Patty, and Patty knew that Kool knew about this already. "You're an asshole Wagner. You're really letting the crew down. Adams is an asshole. He wont fit on this crew. He's all fuckin Army. He'll be a pain in the ass!" Patty was angry. "Fuck you Fallica!" Wagner replied. "Why don't you do it?" "Because nobody will listen to me, I'm just a kid compared to everybody else." "So what?" Wagner asked. "So, they won't take orders from a kid!" Patty said. "They'll listen to you because you're a Sergeant Fallica, and that's all they'll see." Brown told him. "Wagner will be your assistant, he'll help you out." "That's exactly what I mean. Kool would be the last one to take orders from me. He's got more time in the chow line than I got in the Army!" "I'd take orders from you. I might argue with you from time to time, nut not in front of the crew." Wagner said. Patty looked at Wagner again. He could see in his face that he was being serious. He looked at Brown, he was serious also. Patty couldn't believe that this was really going down. He never expected it. "I don't think I could pull it off," He said quietly. "They'd crucify me. " "Then we better get Adams over here so he can get to know the crew before he takes over." Brown said with a deep sigh. "Anybody but Adams!" Patty pleaded. "Anybody?" Wagner asked. "I know what your doing Kool." Patty snapped, "Then it's got to be Adams," Wagner shot back, "Just remember what happened today when you start bitching about him." Patty knew he was cornered. This was a set up and he knew it. He knew that nobody on Brown's crew had any use for Adams. Fallica's next statement was inevitable. "O.K., I'll do it." Patty said, his voice filled with resignation. "But you better help me Kool. You still. got four months in country, you're not getting off the hook for four months." "See Fallica, you're already sounding like a section chief." Brown said happily. Patty left the guard shack with very mixed emotions, He had always wanted to be a section chief, but he thought it would be at a much later date. It had never occurred to him that he could actually handle a section now. He wondered what the crew would say. He also wondered if he could really do it. He had two weeks to get used to the idea. He had told Brown he was only eighteen years old. He was lying, He was eighteen and a half, with no time in grade. Big O was twenty five, Murphy was twenty, even Phillips was twenty two. He was the youngest guy on the hill. The next day was incredibly sunny and warm. It seemed as if Spring was going to he pre-empted for Summer. The crew didn't want to hang around the Admin area after work, they wanted to get right into town and party. It was only nine thirty when they walked out the gate for Inchon. Patty was the one with the ideas. He told the crew about an open air market near the Frog that sold nothing but toys. He asked the crew if they wanted to check it out. They did. Phillips said he wanted to try some of that hot whisky, so they guys decided to hit the Frog first. They took the bus to Inchon. It felt good to feel warm dry air on their faces. Everybody was in an extremely good mood. Patty was surprised at their reaction to the news that he would be the new section chief. They didn't seem to care. They were just happy that it wasn't Adams. Moving through the alleys in Inchon always fascinated Patty. Korea, especially Inchon, was like a giant Disneyland. Little things, such as a drug store, or a bar were like new experiences he could sample. Fallica was still amazed that drugs were sold over the counter, He would sometimes buy drugs when he didn't even want them. It was the thrill of the purchase that excited him. They were greeted warmly upon entering the Frog. The waitresses there knew that they would spend a lot of money. Some places in Korea didn't want the American business because it wasn't worth the hassle they had to put up with. Inchon was different. The few Americans they had in this city of five million didn't show up enough to make a pain in the ass of themselves. It didn't take long to get a good buzz. Patty and Wagner had taken some speed before they got too blasted. It was almost one in the afternoon when they left The Frog. Big O was pretty drunk. It was really easy to tell. Since he had no teeth, he would spray everybody he talked to. Big O never wore his false teeth when he was drinking. The way he slurred his words with no teeth made understanding him nearly impossible. Every once in a while he would crash into the side of a building. Nobody really cared though, somebody would always get a little more drunk than the others. One of the best things about being drunk in Korea, was that you really couldn't offend the Koreans. This was because most of the Koreans couldn't understand slurred, drunken English enough to be offended, and the rest of them thought that Americans were all crazy to begin with. It was hard to get in trouble unless you actually hurt somebody. Seeing all the toys in the market brought out the kid in most of the crew. Phillips was intrigued by the different multi colored kites. He bought a box kite, a ribbon kite, and a few kinds he had never seen in his life. Pope thought that the little battery powered toys were fabulous. He bought a bag of different toys he claimed he was going to send to his nephews. The Korean shop owners took pride in their wares, and seemed to have a great time showing them to the Americans. Patty got a kick out of watching the guys paying the full asking price. They had no idea that things weren't done like that in Korea. The shop owners fully expected to negotiate on the price. Haggling was part of shopping. Tim had taught Patty the art of haggling. It was almost second nature to him now. Everyone but Patty had a bag full of toys. Fallica figured that he was just too busy to play with any he might purchase. Besides, he didn't want to lug them around for the rest of the day. He had no intention of going back to the compound until the next morning. Just as they were about to leave, Big O spotted the guns. Tucked away in a corner of the market, was a stall that specialized in toy guns of Every type. They were really amazing, If you didn't know that they were toys, it would be easy to mistake them for the genuine article. Reeger wanted to buy them all. He looked at each and every one of them. He almost bought a replica of an M-16 until the shop owner brought out an AK-47. It was love at first sight. The only difference between the real rifle and the toy, was that the bullets were red plastic, as was the clip that held the magazine in the rifle. Big "O" loved the way it came apart in three pieces. He assembled it and disassembled it three times. The crew watched Reeger as he screwed the receiver group onto the stock, and then screwed the barrel onto the receiver group. it wasn't the rifle that was so interesting to the crew, it was Big "O's" face. Watching "0" playing with the rifle, was like watching a man possessed. Finally they grew tired of him playing with it, and told him to buy it and play with it later. They took taxi's to Whiskey Mary's. The place was pretty quiet during the day. Jimmy had a big poker game going on though, and it must have been for pretty high stakes, because the Koreans were watching every move the players, made. The money on the table was a sizable amount. Patty figured that Jimmy wasn't going to be available to party with them for awhile. They sat and drank beer and flirted with the few girls that were there. The front door was open because of the warm weather, and the sunshine poured through the windows. It was really turning into a mellow afternoon. Nobody noticed Reeger pulling the bag up from under the table except Murphy. From the look on Big O's face, it was apparent that he was into mischief, He had on a that weird smile and darting eyes that signaled, to those that knew him, he was about to pull something off. Murphy watched Reeger as he pulled the stock of the rifle from the tag. He bent down and came up with the receiver group. Some of the others noticed him screwing it onto the stock. Nobody said anything as he reached down under the table again and came up with the barrel. A girl who had been watching the game noticed Reeger screwing the barrel onto the receiver group, and quietly nudged one of the girls standing next to her. Patty and Wagner were deep into conversation and hadn't noticed anything, until the place grew deathly quiet. They stopped talking and looked around. Every person in the place now had their eyes firmly fixed on Reeger. By this time the weapon was completely assembled and he stood up and rammed the magazine into the slot. It came together with a loud click.. He then smiled that crazy man's smile and pulled the bolt back, and then let it slide forward, chambering a round with another loud click that made some of the Koreans jump. The crew looked at each other as Reeger slowly walked over to the table where, a few minutes before, people had been playing poker. The Koreans seemed to shrink with every step that Big O made. Patty realized that they thought the rifle was real, and felt a wave of panic rise from his belly. He wondered if anyone at the table had a gun. He wanted to call out to Reeger, but he was afraid that the noise would spook somebody into blowing Big O's head off. Reeger walked right up to the table. One of the players pushed the money towards him in a panic. Big O just laughed. It was a killers laugh. Patty believed that in his drunken state, Reeger really believed he had a real gun. "I don't want your money!" He said drunkenly. Big O was drooling and weaving from side to side. Murphy could be heard in the background trying to stifle laughter. The Koreans fully believed that this, crazy American was walking around with an AK-47. Wagner tried to diffuse the situation. "Reeger, put that gun down!" He yelled. Wagner was scared that somebody was going to shoot Reeger too, but it didn't stop him from appreciating the ridiculousness of the situation. Every person on the crew was vacillating between hysterical laughter, and fear that Big O would get shot. It immobilized them all. "Get the fuck up and get against the wall!" Reeger cried. The Koreans obeyed. Even the girls that were standing around the table went over and stood against the wall. "Put your hands behind your heads!" Big O ordered the frightened people, moving his gun as he talked. The scene in the bar looked like a scene off a Hollywood lot. The Koreans were standing against the wall with their hands behind their heads. Patty noticed that jimmy was as scared as any of them. In spite of the potential seriousness of the situation, he was hard put not to fall apart with laughter. Tears were actually running down his eyes. Some of the guys couldn't hold hack the laughter. It sounded like groans when it did escape. "Turn around and face the wall!" Big O ordered them. The Koreans turned and faced the wall. "Don't kill me!" One girl sobbed. This was too much for Patty. "O, put that damn gun down!" He yelled. This command from Patty actually made things worse. It seemed to add just the right amount of realism. Almost all the Koreans were moaning and pleading now. "Shut up! Shut up or I'm going to let you have it!" O yelled at them. They didn't shut up. "0.K.!" He screamed, "Get ready, here it comes! Bang mother fuckers! Bang! The people against the wall screamed as two little red plastic bullets looped nut from the barrel and bounced against the wall. By the time the Americans had regained their composure, and the Koreans had realized what had just happened, Big O had walked out of the bar and was now on the streets of Inchon. Patty recovered from the scene in the bar and was the first out after Reeger. Wagner followed close behind. Big O was nowhere in sight. The two didn't know which way to give chase, but it didn't take long to figure it out. Over to the right, the street ended in an intersection. A cop in the middle was jumping up and down while hysterically blowing his whistle. The traffic there was stopped. Patty and Kool took off in that direction. As they passed the intersection, the cop was still waving his arms and stopping traffic. Cars, cabs and buses were stacking up all over the place. Rounding the corner, they expected to see Big 0, but he wasn't there. They continued to run down to the next intersection a short distance away. Looking first to his right, and then to his left, he saw Reeger on the sidewalk. He was standing and staring at a drunken beggar that was puking on all fours next along the curb. Wagner called out to Big O. Reeger turned and faced them. "Hey guys, This guy's drunk!" He shouted, and with that he gave the old bum a small push with his foot. The drunk fell over. Big O then put foot in the man's back and turned towards Patty and Wagner, rifle resting on his hip. He looked like a big game hunter posing with his latest trophy. "Go ahead, take my picture!" He called out drunkenly. Just at that time, the cop from the other intersection rounded the corner. He took one look at Big O in his pose, and must have thought that Reeger had shot the drunk. He went right into his traffic stopping routine. Later on Patty and Wagner figured the reason he didn't shoot Big O was because he was worried that Reeger might start a massacre, and he wanted to keep people away from him. Wagner saw a taxi coming from the opposite direction. He ran out onto the seat and flagged it down. The driver, unaware of what was happening, stopped. Patty grabbed Reeger and pulled him over to the cab. Wagner had the back door open, and Patty threw him into the seat. "Munhak!" Wagner screamed at the driver. The taxi driver, aware that something was going on, screeched his tires and headed for the compound. Wagner and Patty kept glancing towards the back until they were out of Inchon, and they were sure that nobody was following them. Once they were sure they were in the clear and the pressure was off, they started laughing. The taxi driver was laughing too, even though he had no idea what he was laughing about. Reeger was in a daze, half asleep and half awake. Looking at him, Patty was aware that even though he was responsible for the situation, he didn't have a clue as to what was going on. He was that drunk. The cab stopped outside the compound gate. Wagner and Patty talked to the driver and split the fare. While this was going on, they didn't notice that Reeger had let himself out of the taxi, slipped inside of the gate and was walking towards the Orderly Room. Wagner noticed that Reeger was gone first. We nudged Patty who turned around. Wagner pointed towards Reeger. Patty took off, trying to get to Reeger before he made it to the Orderly room. Patty was a couple of steps too late. Reeger was inside before Patty got there. Wagner followed behind Patty. The First Sergeant was doing paperwork at his desk when Big O burst into the room. He looked up from his work. "What do you want Reeger?" He snarled. "I want to see the pig." Reeger slurred. The First Sergeant started to get up from the desk with murder in his eyes, until he saw the rifle in Reeger's hands. He sat back down. In a soft calm voice he asked Reeger what it was he could do for him. Patty started to tell the First Sergeant what was going on, but the First Sergeant told Fallica to shut up. Patty figured he would shut up. "I don't want to see you. I want to see the head pig!" Reeger snapped. The BC opened his office door to see what the commotion was all about. He looked ready to voice his displeasure at the noise going on outside of his office, when he saw the rifle in Heeger's hand. We quickly shut his office door. Nobody could blame him. "Get out of there you fucking coward!" Reeger yelled. The BC stayed inside of his office. Patty noticed that Sergeant Lance, who was coming onto charge of quarters, was slowly inching his forty five out of his holster. Reeger saw it too. "Put that pistol on the floor!" he said. Lance put the pistol on the floor and gave it a kick towards Reeger. This was too much for the First Sergeant who was sweating profusely. He had a look of sheer terror on his craggy face. Patty imagined him dropping to his knees at any moment, begging Reeger to spare his life. That was pretty close to what he did. "Reeger, put that rifle away. Please Reeger, put it away and we'll forget this whole thing." He pleaded. "Not a chance!" Reeger replied, spitting as he talked. "Get ready Top, here it comes!" Marshall shut his eyes tight as he prepared for the bullet to enter his skull. Reeger stood over him with a look of mad glee etched on his face. Slowly he squeezed his finger, and the little red bullet popped out of the end of the rifle. It bounced against to bald spot on the First Sergeants head. He looked up. Reeger fired two more shots that hit him in the chest. "What the hell'" He asked. "What the fuck is this?" The First Sergeant looked down at the top of his desk, and saw three little red bullets sitting on it. A smile started to appear on the corners of his mouth. Reeger still stood above him with the rifle pointed. "You're history Reeger. I'll make sure you pay for this forever." He said menacingly..
CHAPTER 33 SSG Brown left and Patty took over as section chief. The first few days it had felt odd. Trying to keep track of every-thing that was going on was confusing. Wagner helped him, and for that Patty was grateful. Between making sure that the check were pulled and the different details were completed, guard rosters, and commo guard rosters had to be done every morning. Since the weather had warmed up, more outside work had to he done. The unit was preparing for a defense combat evaluation and that took a lot of work. Bunkers had to be repaired from the effects of winter, the fence had to be mended, commo wire to the different positions had to he checked and replaced if necessary. In short, everything on the hill had to work. This meant sandbagging. The Army had a fetish about sandbags. The bunkers were sandbagged. The walls of the vans were sandbagged, If the Army could invent portable sandbags, vehicles and people would be sandbagged. The Platoon Sergeant had tasked Patty's crew with filling at least five hundred sandbags a day. The plan was to fill sandbags every working day until seventeen hundred hours, or until the five hundred were done. Since they were down on a deep maintenance status for the next two weeks, this meant physical labor for a complete eight hour day, This was strange to the men on the crew who were used to working on the equipment. The first day of the detail, Patty gave the men a little speech. He tried to motivate them by promising them they could knock off after five hundred were filled. He wasn't expecting the reaction. The crew told Patty that five hundred would take all day. They didn't think his incentive was any big deal. Filling sandbags wasn't the hardest job in the world, but it was boring. Patty took the crew into the sand pit on the western aide of the mountain. Reeger, who was now a private after his escapade with the rifle, held the sandbag open, and Patty filled it with shovels of dirt. They did about ten of them in about twenty minutes. The rest of the crew watched them. "This isn't so bad." Patty said. The crew said nothing. They all just sat on the sidelines and watched. Reeger and Patty filled about ten more sandbags. "You know, " He said casually to no one in particular, "this is a pretty good way to get in shape. I'm working up a pretty good sweat." The crew didn't even acknowledge him. Patty and Keeger filled about ten more sandbags. "Would somebody come down here and relieve Reeger?" He asked. No one volunteered. Fallica looked up at them. They were all looking away. "Rope, get down here and relive Reeger." He said. Larson slid down the bank and relieved Reeger. Patty was grateful that he hadn't protested. They went back to filling more sandbags, this time Patty shoveled while Larson held the bag open. They filled about ten more sandbags. Patty was getting tired, but he wanted to lead by example. He didn't want the crew to think he wouldn't do the same things he expected them to do. He wanted one of the men to offer to take his place, but it didn't happen. He started to get angry. "Anybody want to take my place?" He asked. The only answer Sergeant Fallica received was silence. He filled about ten more sandbags with Larson. He was getting really angry now. He tried to shame them into participating. "You know guys, we got three more shovels and about four hundred and fifty more sandbags. It would be nice if some of you guys decided to be part of this instead of letting a select few do all the work." Patty couldn't keep the anger and irritation out of his voice. Somebody snickered. Patty looked at each one of the crew and tried to tell which one of them did it. It was impossible to tell, because they all had smug looks on their faces. He lost his patience and threw down his shovel. "Goddamn it! Get your asses down here and start filling these fucking sandbags. I'm the freaking Sergeant here, and I shouldn't have to do all the work!" He screamed at the crew. The men started to smile but said nothing. Phillips started to clap. They all started clapping. "It's about time you told us to do something." Murphy said. "We were getting sick of you trying to bullshit us. Nobody likes a Sergeant that begs." Patty flushed. He was confused at first, but then he thought about it. They were right. He was the Sergeant. He was, after all, paid to tell them what to do. We wasn't being paid to do it himself. The crew jumped into the pit and started filling sandbags. The normal chatter returned as they went about their business. Patty had tried to relieve Larson, but Larson refused. He had called Patty Sarge. It was the first time any one on the crew had not called him Patty or Fallica. It sounded a little weird to him, but it made him feel good. The work went very slowly. The crew was detailed for two thousand sandbags a week for two weeks.. At the rate they were going, it would take a month to fill four thousand bags. Patty would have rather had the other crew's job of painting and replacing worn sandbags. Sitting at the edge of the pit, he tried to come up with a way to speed things up. After a full day's work, they just barely came up with the five hundred sandbags. The other crew drove up in the deuce and loaded them up. Patty noticed that some of the guys had developed blisters. He would have to get them some work gloves. The blisters also meant that the work would go even slower tomorrow than it did today. Patty went to the village that evening. He still had the sandbags on his mind. Mamaan had asked his houseboy to tell Patty to stop by the moklie house, so that's where he went. The moklie house reeked of kimchee and sweat. The local farmers had been working in the rice paddies all day, and were rewarding themselves with some liquid refreshments. The place was crowded. Some of the men outside were playing a game with some sticks. Patty had seen Koreans play the game before, but he could never make any sense out of it. To him, it just looked like they threw the sticks on the ground. Mamasan was telling Patty that she needed a few fans from the PX. She promised Patty triple what they cost. Of course he said he would oblige her. He was just about to say good-bye when they heard a commotion outside. Mamasan went out to see what was happening, and Patty followed. Two Korean men were arguing about something. They were yelling loudly at each other and pointing to the sticks that Patty had seen them playing with when he walked in. The shouting grew louder, and suddenly, one of the Koreans punched the other in the head. The man that was punched fell down. That was it. The fight was over. Patty had seen this before. He never saw Koreans get into fights like the ones he had seen back home. It seemed that over here, they would argue with each other until one would throw a punch, The one that got punched would fall down, and that would be it. Patty asked Mamasan what it had been all about. She told him that they had argued over the game they were playing. They had bet five hundred won, which was a full day's wages. The loser had protested, and the fight broke out. Mamasan also explained that the man who threw the punch had lost face for losing his temper. In other words, the man who got smacked won the argument. That was the Korean way. Later that evening, sitting in the Seaman's Service after a massage at the Olympus Hotel, Patty got a brainstorm. Tomorrow he would try something very unorthodox on the hill. Patty stayed with Lydia that night. He had a great time as usual, but he got the feeling that something war wrong. She didn't joke around with him as she usually did, although the sex was better than ever. When Patty arrived at the mess hall the next morning, he wasn't surprised at the crew's lack of enthusiasm about going to work and filling sandbags. The only person on the crew that wasn't bitching was Wagner. He would do the same thing as he did the day before. He was helping the maintenance crew tear down his radar. Instructions were given to the crew. Patty wanted them to get up to the hill and start filling the sandbags. He told them he would be up there in a little while. There was some thing he had to do in the admin area. The crew left without him. Patty borrowed the platoon leaders jeep and headed out the gate. We was back in less than an hour. He headed up to the hill. Down in the sand pit, the men were filling sandbags. They had only finished about fifty from the time they had started. Patty figured as much. He walked over to the side of the pit and told them to take a break. They didn't have to be told twice. He asked them for their attention once they had relaxed a bit. They gave it to him. "What would you give to get out of this detail?" he asked. "Anything." Phillips replied. "Would it be worth a couple of bucks to you guys? They all agreed that it would be worth it. "Everybody dig into your pockets and come up with some scratch." He told them. "What the hell are you doing Sarge?" Rope asked him. "I got some hired help coming up." He replied. As if on cue, four middle aged Korean men came into view. They walked over to Patty. "Is this your hired help?" Murphy asked. "They don't look like much to me." "Give them a chance. " Patty said as he peeled off hills and paid them. "They have to do better than we're doing. The Koreans took the money from Patty and jumped into the pit. They started to work immediately, chattering good naturedly with each other as they worked. The crew watched them critically for a few minutes. They worked at a good steady pace, and in fifteen minutes, they had matched the pile of sandbags that the crew had filled in the previous hour. "They're doing pretty good." Rope said, lighting a joint. "The two on the left are faster than the other two." Murphy pointed out. "I bet that the ones on the right fill more than the ones on the left." Phillips said. "How much are you willing to bet?" Murphy asked. "Five bucks." Phillips replied with a grin. "Your on." said Murphy. "Wait a minute." Phillips said looking at his watch. "We'll start at fifteen after and go until fifteen to eleven. Half an hour. "0.K" Phillips jumped into the pit. He walked over to the papasans he had bet on, and explained what was going on. He told them that he would split the money with them they smiled and nodded their heads. Murphy saw what Phillips did and jumped into the pit and did the same with his papasans. The rest of the crew gathered around the pit to check out what was going on. Everyone wanted in on the action and started placing side bets on the papasans. Patty marked off the area that each team of papasans would stack their bags. At ten fifteen he dropped his hand and the race was on. The men stood at the sides of the pit and cheered the papasans on. They sweated and filled sandbags like men possessed. The crew urged them to go faster, and the papasans responded. It was close. The two teams of sandbaggers alternated the lead. one team would start to surge ahead, and the other team would notice and pick up the pace. It was a real race. At the end of the half hour, Phillips team had won. Murphy handed the money to Phillips, and Phillips jumped into the pit and split it with the papasans. To the Koreans, it was worth it. To them it was a lot of money. Larson counted the sandbags. By eleven thirty, they had over three hundred sandbags, they broke for lunch, and told the Koreans to come hack at thirteen hundred. They got on the deuce and went down to the mess hall. When they came back, the Koreans had finished another hundred sandbags. They apparently didn't want to eat lunch. The races went on throughout the day. Sometimes the guys would team up with the Koreans and make four teams. They had a ball. The Koreans would shovel, and the GI's would hold the bags open, and tie them off. By the end of the day, they had the whole week's quota. Patty figured that they had better hide some of the bags. He didn't want the Platoon Sergeant to know that they had finished. He figured that they could milk this detail all week. He asked the papasans to come back the next day. The other crew came to pick up the five hundred bags they left out, and the crew finished the day by smoking joints and walking down the hill. Patty was a hero, and the crew was getting the job done. It had all worked out. The next day was even better. Patty brought up three cases of beer and ice. Between the Koreans and the crew, they filled more sandbags than they did the previous day. They had almost two weeks of work done in just three days. They continued to bring the Koreans up to the pit for the rest of the week. By Friday afternoon, they had over six thousand sandbags. The next week they just sat around and drank beer and smoked joints. Every afternoon they would pull out five hundred sandbags for the other crew to pick up, and they would knock off. Thursday they didn't even go to work!. After the other crew left with the bags on Wednesday, they stacked up the bags for Thursday. This was the best detail they had ever pulled. It would be a long time before they would forget the "papasan races"
CHAPTER 34 Mannik fit in with the crew immediately. His sense of humor was always right on target. The First Sergeant singled him out immediately for persecution. To the First Shirt, he was another wise ass assigned to the IFC. McCoy on the other hand was a little more reserved than Mannik. He was from Texas, and was as tall and thin as Mannik was. He was older than most of the others on the crew even though he had only been in the Army less than two years. He was a target tracking operator and Patty could see that he was really good at it. Patty also realized that McCoy was an alcoholic. He didn't drink much on the hill, but Patty knew he was drinking. Drinking on the hill was something that Patty had never encountered. He could accept the pot smoking, the guys had a way of overcoming it once they got on the equipment. Drinking was another story altogether. He doubted as to whether anyone could get sober from alcohol on cue. Patty didn't want to turn McCoy in. He really liked him and respected his intelligence. He had a wry, cynical sense of humor that could crack Fallica up. He was also one of Patty's biggest supporters on the hill. In the space of a month, he had shown the ability to manipulate the crew into following Fallica's every idea. In this respect, he was a bigger help than Wagner. Warner was from New York. Unlike Patty he was from upstate. Upstate was like being from another country to Patty. Warner was nineteen years old and he left his wife and two year old son back in the world. He was happy to get away. Warner liked to party, and he and Mannik were inseparable from the time they first met. Same of the crew was also getting short. Wagner didn't seem to go out with the guys much anymore, preferring to stay close to the barracks. He had less than a month left, and he was scared of getting the clap, or being run over by a kimchee bus. Murphy had less than two months left but it didn't stop him from doing anything. Rope had already left, and like anything he did, he did it quietly. Patty missed having him around. The crew had a reputation. Lt. Moore affectionately called them Fallica's "gang". He liked the crew and would switch with other officers so that he could pull duty officer on the hill with "Fallica's gang". The other crew knew about this and they resented it. They were an older group, top heavy with rank, and they considered themselves more mature and professional. When the Battery was selected to go to Annual Service Practice, the other crew was chosen to go based on their professionalism and experience. They went to B Battery and did poorly, scoring eighty six percent. ASP was a once a year event when a Battery would fire a live missile at a simulated target. The other crew's stature was considerably diminished after their poor showing at ASP. Patty didn't miss the opportunity to remark that they should have sent his crew. One warm Sunday in late June, Patty was walking through the IFC area. He noticed most of the crew behind the generator building, and he walked over there to see what was up. As he approached the group, he noticed a box behind Mannik. Next to the box was a can, full of diesel fuel. "What are you guys up to?" He asked. "Nothing." Mannik said too soon to satisfy Patty. "I know you're up to something. You answered too fast, Mannik." "We're having rat races." Murphy told him. "Rat races?" Patty asked, "What the hell are rat races?" "You promise you won't tell anyone?" McCoy asked. "I'm not a snitch McCoy." "Yeah, I know you're not Sarge, but you might not like this. It's not exactly humane if you know what I mean, but after all they're rats, you know. Slimy, disgusting, disease infested rats." He explained. "Yeah Patty", Reeger added, "The fuckin things that make it sound like its raining when they get together on top of the hootches in the vill. "I know what rats are." Patty said. "How do you race them?" They crew looked at each other, waiting for somebody to speak. It seemed to Fallica that nobody wanted to make the first move. "I'm waiting." Patty said crossing his arms, and tapping his feet like his father used to do when he was a kid. "We'll show you." McCoy said. McCoy slipped on an asbestos glove, and Warner did the same. They put their hands into the slit in the bowl where the flaps were folded over, and the two came out with medium sized adult rats. Patty flinched. They were disgusting, He hated rats. They were all over this country. Sometimes he believed that Korea had more rats than people. Warner took his rat and dunked it into the can filled with diesel fuel. Mannik did the same. They took them out, dripping with diesel. Murphy stepped over and took out his zippo. Mannik and Warner dropped to their knees holding the rats on the ground. Murphy put the lighter to the tail of Warner's rat. Reeger came over and put his zippo to the tail of Mannik's. They both started to ignite at about the same time. They were thrashing wildly as the flames grew larger and started to travel up their tails toward their backs. They were squealing like, well... rats. Patty was appalled. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Murphy yelled "Go!" and they let their rats go at the same time. When they were released they took off running in a straight line. The flames were traveling up their backs and consuming their bodies. They ran right down the path to the lower forty until the flames had consumed them. Warner's rat fell over first, with Mannik's rat still running until it too, rolled over on it's side. "Allright!" Mannik yelled. "Double or nothing!" Warner challenged. "You're on." Mannik said. Patty had enough. He didn't say a word as he turned around and walked back to the corridor. Fred was in his usual position lying in the sun next to the steps. "Stay away from those new guys Fred." He said, and patted his head as he walked into the corridor. Wagner was in the corridor pulling commo guard. "Hey Kool, Do you know what the guys are doing outside?" he asked. "Having rat races." "Yeah, you know about it?" "Sure." He said. "They've been doing it every day for a week. They pay the houseboys a dollar a rat." "God." Patty said shaking his head, "It's disgusting." "I know," Wagner said, "but what can you say? They're rats." "It's still disgusting." "Are you going to make them stop?" "Do you think I should?" Patty asked. "No." Wagner replied. "It would make me look like a jerk." "It would make you look like a jerk." Wagner agreed. "I hope nobody ever finds out about this." Patty said. "What could they say?" Wagner asked. "I know, I know." Patty said. "They're rats."
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