“The General Finally Listens to His Green Army Men,” by Patrick Walczy

Jun 20th, 2012 | By | Category: Fake Nonfiction, Prose

It has been twenty years since I led them, but I still know them all by name: aiming long rifle guy, grenade lobbing guy, lying flat sniper guy, kneeling bazooka guy, charging bayonet guy and machine gun aimed sideways guy. The sounds of their valor still echo in my dreams. The way they cheered for me, applauded my every decision. After the Great Bedroom War (1986-1987) and the Invasion of Cabbage Patch (Summer, 1988) I installed a suggestion box for my men. It is with great shame that I admit to only looking over these dispatches and communiqués now, almost twenty-five years later. I have failed my brave men, but hopefully their words will inspire and enliven this aging man they once so joyously called Ol’ General Radical.

“Would it be too much to ask that the General wear pants during wartime? I mean, c’mon, we’re trying to fight Transformers here and our base is made of Lincoln Logs. The last thing I need to see before we attack is an eight year-olds penis.” –Colonel Thomas Freemont

“The sounds effects are terrible. Don’t get me wrong, he does a decent machine gun, but his mortar fire and his pistol discharge are just awful. It sounds like a fizzing soda having sex with a whistle. Sometimes I think the General’s never even fought in a war before.” –Sergeant August Gregory

“They finally taught the General to use the bathroom properly, but did they teach him how to wipe? The entire battlefield smells like poop today.” –Private First Class Bobby Thettleton

“He orders us to assassinate a Barbie warlord, we do. He orders us to burn down the Lego village even though our recon shows non-military civilians living there, we do. He orders us to jump out of a second-story window with a parachute made of toilet paper, we do. Now he orders us to recreate Michael Jackson’s Thriller video? Nah man. I didn’t sign up for this shit.” –Private Victor Alonzo

“I hate hate hate when he brings us in the shower. Dude, we know it’s not raining.” –Captain Mike Hart

“The teal sweatpants? AGAIN? Does the General own any camouflage? You’d think we were storming Miami Beach armed with daiquiri cannons.” –Private Omar Thurman

“New music. Please. When we’re gushing blood and screaming for someone to just kill us and put us out of our misery, usually due to yet another tactical error by the Mighty General, it would be nice to hear something other than the Madonna cassette he stole from his mother’s tape deck. And how appropriate that he memorized the words to Like a Virgin.” –Lieutenant Ronald “Ronny” York

“Something’s got to be done about living quarters. Sharing an Air Jordan shoebox with fifty-four other men is not what I had in mind when the General recruited me to fight. It’s just too cramped. Someone farts and it’s in your nose faster than the General’s index finger. Awful.” –Private Jeremy Grisham

“Is the General even reading these? Better question: does the General even know how to read? I’m guessing ‘no’ based on the fact that he uses his erection as a diving board for his troops. Club Med, this is not.” –Private Anthony Molodazzo


Patrick Walczy recently had a sandwich named after him. It’s piled high with shirtless hugs and birthday gifts you sure as hell didn’t ask for. Served on multigrain wheat with a dill pickle spear on the side, it’s called the “Please Leave.” Previous work of his can be found in Hobart, Untoward and Metazen

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