Ever since I saw that documentary “Predator” I knew I wanted to be a super elite army guy. I train every day so I will grow up to be big and strong just like Dutch and I’m getting pretty good at smoking. There’s just one aspect of the mercenary life that frightens me; saying cool things after you brutally murder a bad guy.
Sometimes I just worry that when the moment comes, I won’t be able to deliver. I can see it all so clearly in my mind:
I’m all grown up, big muscular arms, bad ass paramilitary outfit, cigar in mouth prowling through the jungle to see where the bad guys live. I find them easily using my tracking skills and silently give signals to my team of commandos, one of which is a Native American and we respect each other a lot.
My team is in position waiting for me to give the signal. We have planned this ambush for weeks, but at the last second I decide to do something completely different because I’m a genius badass.
I sneak up behind a bad guy on a motorcycle and snap his neck easily. I put one of my many bombs onto the motorcycle and kick it down into the bad guys’ main base and it blows up.
My teammates are completely taken off guard by this. They say things like “That crazy son of a bitch!” but like the way they say it you can tell they know it was a sick move and they have a lot of admiration for me. They start firing their big guns wildly but I just go in with my big ass hunting knife because this time it’s personal or something.
I burst into a bad guy house and there is a drug dude there being mean to a really hot babe. I surprise him. Apparently this guy didn’t get the memo about me blowing up all of his friends 100 feet away. He lunges at me and I stab him, easily piercing through his entire torso and suspending his dead body into the wall behind him with my enormous knife.
It’s time to say something smart and funny before hunting down the rest of the terrorists or whatever, and I know just the thing. Guy stuck to a wall, this is a no brainer. Then I open my mouth but the words, they just don’t come…
Suddenly I’m off my game. I know it’s something like “hang in there” or “hold on” but it’s neither of those and in my panic I stammer the words “hold in there” unable to stop myself. My confidence deflates. I am no longer bad ass enough to fight a bunch of machine gun guys off with a knife and a domineering attitude. I am shot at until I explode.
That’s usually the part where I wake up in a cold sweat. I’ve stabbed like nine people so far but still can’t get over my fear. I guess it’s true what they say about public speaking. Should I try an open mic?