baud
Arcane
Got bored yesterday, enjoy!
First order of business, you will disband all the airgroups except the one from Portland. We cannot afford to pay our aviators to shoot down fishes or whatever they think they're getting paid to do in Iceland. Please leave me now, I shall retire in my study.
Here's the airfield of the Iceland squadron. Tough job, demobilizing those brave lads showing the flag here in the middle of nowhere.
... So-so, I dropped my-my bombs on commie-mie ships, avoiding their guns, but then my motor-tor stopped!
No-No?! What-at happened?
Hum.
You see-see, I suspected a sabotage from-from one of pack-mate, jealous-ous of success, so I had prepated a new-new invention, called an anti-chute, so I didn't fell-fell to my death with the flying-ing destroyer.
Ooooh!
Excuse me, sir?
You see, I wasn't out of-of troubles, the sea there was full of-of sharks... What-at? Can't you see I'm retelling-ing propaganda, I mean my-my exploits?
Commodore Baud, I am here regarding an important piece of news for your squadron.
Commodore delivering news? Me smell a furry rodent.
Well, those are grave news indeed and I prefer to deliver them in person, better than impersonal memo from high command. But to tell the truth it's also giving me the opportunity to seclude myself from my new boss, who's really way too keen at looking at our ledgers, plans and deployment orders in details.
No problem with-with boss-man looking at details, knows better, no-no?
Well, first it's boss-woman and second it's always about assets this and asset that with that bitch, so she could discover how I've allocated funds normally intended to the air squadrons ...
Huh?
...towards more important pursuits, like my Francophonie projects, parties, junkets to the arms manufacturers, resale of slightly used assets and all that.
Seems li-like you're about to have an ass-asset issue soon. HuHuHu.
Wait-Wait, funds for air-air squadrons? Like me-mine air squadrons?
Hum, see, hum, maybe? Merde, j'ai parlé trop vite.
YOU THE REA-REASON NO FUEL HERE? THAT HAVE TO EAT RO-ROTTEN FISH AND HUNT FOR SEA-SEAGULLS?
It's not as if you were of any use, lost in the middle of the ocean, planes out of range of anything! In any case...
Out of-of range because no fuel! But I like the fi-fish here.
No money for anything! And the last recruit you sent was a SKUNK!
Rat, skunk, same difference and don't use that tone with me, I still outrank you. And it's a moot point, since the squadron is officially disbanded.
Rank my-my tail! I'll have-have revenge for this!... What? Disbanded, my-my squadron?
Yes, your squadron, like most of them, are closed to save money, removing by the same way an easy source of funding for me.
This is not-not finished! I'll reveal your emblez... emzzelm... embezzement, argh, your thievery to the high-high command!
If you dare rat me out to the pack leader, you'll get to fall with me and without your 'anti chute' this time! Most of funds reallocation were signed by your hand, I mean paw.
What? How?
Well, you shouldn't have left that stack of blank pre-signed orders lying around...
But they make man-management much-much easier...
Well my message was delivered, I'll leave you to pack your 'things-things' and go back to the métropole, I'm leaving on a tour of the French arsenals. So Long, and thanks for all the fish!