Human Version
General Johnson paced back and forth in the underground bunker, trying desperately to think of the right words for his men. A few hundred soldiers, sat on the stone floor, awaiting his speech, eagerly listening to the click-click-click of his boots. The General tugged at his mustache as an idea came to him. Why not let his men contribute to his going-to-be invigorating speech? He stopped his pacing underneath a flickering light-bulb, letting the dingy light be his spotlight.
"Now I know that you have travelled thousands of miles away from our homes, to this wretched land, away from our great and glorious country...but we are here for a very good reason that I think you all know!" General Johnson shouted, before pausing, "SHOW ME YOUR KNOWLEDGE!!!" he bellowed and his men returned his shout with more shouts:
"TO FIGHT!"
"TO WIN!"
"TO DEFEND OUR COUNTRY!"
"MY MA MADE ME!"
"I GOT DRAFTED!"
"FOR OIL!"
"I DON'T KNOW!"
But, one battle-cry rose above them all...
"BIRTHDAY PIE!!!!!!"
The cry for birthday pie invited a sudden silence to enter the room. Everybody stopped their shouting and turned their shaved heads to man with the cry for birthday pie. "You! Identify yourself!" General Johnson yelled, wagging a finger at the pie-crier.
"Private Richard Smith, sir! Dick for short, sir!" the man exclaimed, bringing himself to a standing position and swinging his hand to his forehead.
"Secretary Mark Macho! Check the birthday records!" the General shouted at a beefy man.
The next few minutes were spent listening to Mark flip through a frilly, pink book, labelled "Badass Birthday Records" until he exclaimed, "IT'S A BIRTHDAY, SIR!" and the entire room erupted in cheers.
"Private Jack Tosh, bake us a pie! Private John Doe, get out the emergency streamers! Private Tom Rock, make party hats out of thin air!" commanded General Johnson, to which everyone obeyed. Soon colourful streamers hung among the cobwebs, haphazardly, tied to the rusty lights. Everyone had put on their party hats, after they were all tested with a Geiger meter, of course. Jack wheeled in an apple pie, covered in candles and all the soldiers celebrated Dick's birthday.
It came time to blow out the fiery candles and General Johnson shouted his last command of the day, "Private Dick, make a birthday wish!"
"I wish we didn't have to fight, today!" bellowed Dick, before blowing out the candles.
"Wish granted!" cheered the General, with a whimsical gleam in his eye.
For the rest of the day, General Johnson and his soldiers had a party, while their enemy took the time to regroup. On the next day, the enemy attacked and took the base. Many decades later, the majority of historians have come to the conclusion if Dick's birthday had not been celebrated that day, the enemy could not have regrouped and the base would not have been taken. Now we remember that tragic day by eating birthday pie at the ruins of the base on Dick's birthday.
THE END