Virtually every group of soldiers ever sent somewhere eventually adopts a dog or a cat or fucking something because there's a hole inside us and we're trying to fill it with something that loves us because our parents and our friends don't. And you know the stripper's lying when she says it to you as well. Yes. Yeah. We know. We know. It's fine. It's wrong that they do it. But listen, respect the game. I know my dog doesn't love me either. I'm just what

that feeds it.

Uh,

the,

number, We know. It's fine. It's wrong that they do. Listen, respect the game. I know my dog doesn't love me either.

I'm just one that feeds it.

The Marines did their best that keeps Such a secret in their guard posts because they

didn't want their commander, a guy named Joseph McCaffrey, nicknamed Little Joe, because

he was about five feet tall.

To do them being, you know, a little angry guy. They didn't want him to find the dog and to make them get rid of it or worse, make him shoot it or something, because, again, Marines. But it's only a matter of time until little Joe found out. And one night while touring his Marines guard post, he discovered a group of Marines, and I swear to God, this is true,

gathered in a circle attempting to teach Succi how to smoke a cigarette.

Yes! Yes!

Yes!

I hate it when my homunculus

company commander finds me

peer-pressuring a dog to smoke.

Just a circle of Marines going, yes,

yes, yeah.

Fuck.

And your CEO who looks like fucking

Justin Barrett Littler from Ireland

who talks up, what are you doing?

...