| by comrade commissar | Thomas | @ Saturday, March 12, 2005, 9:35:00 PM | permalink |
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(12-03-2005, 11:50am) I, *NRIC Number*, Private Thomas Tan! Right master hand! No sweaty palms! Requesting permission to enter the throwing bay SIR! [ Permission granted, I walk into the bay, stands beside the supervising officer. ] "Ok, prepare grena-" PREPARE GRENADE! SafetyRingTwistSafetyRingPullSafetyPinOUT- Grenade prepared & ready to throw SIR! ... ... "Oei. Private. Give me the safety pin lah kotek." ... Huh? ... OH. Sorry sir. "Throw grenade!" [ I do. ] G R E N A D E !!! [ ducks in double speed like there's no tomorrow ] One thousand, two thousand, three thousand, four thousa- (The grenade detonates, causing a shockwave to sweep through the air, the force of the impact goes right through the thick protective concrete of the throwing bay. A nailed plank of wood, on the other side where I was taking cover, is forced by the concussion to slap against the concrete a few minimetres, enough to send the thin layer of fine dirt on the floor up into a cloud of dust. Finally, the wave passes through me, & my chest becomes a human bass drum. I became aware of the air shifting in my lungs when it sounded a 'thud'. All these occured within a 1-2 sec timeframe.) BOOOM!~ [ I recover & stand to observe the smouldering spot where the grenade landed. ] Wahlaoeh! KNN! That was SHIOK! |
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