A group approaches Alpha, waving flags: you can see a kid in one man's arms. Patterson goes down to meet them, and the guy cries out to him in stilted English, while the child groans in pain. "Help please. Help. Saddam... Fedayeen shoot. Not you, Saddam. You kill Ba'ath party, Saddam, very good. Saddam in our city, shooting at you. Not us. We help... come. I'll show you. Come." The man takes hold of Patterson's sleeve; he gets ready to go with him. A guy comes running up just then and Patterson tells him to call Battalion so he can report this, but they're already on the net: "Godfather wants to see you."

And why? So he can talking about how fuckin' amazing Encino Man, of all people, is. And if you have trouble wrapping your head around that shit, take a look at Encino Man's confused face. He barely knows it's Godfather talking. If he had a tail with a tiny brain in it, it would be wagging. "In Ar Rifa, this Commander taught us something about seizing the initiative. Earlier today, when his company came under attack by Fedayeen paramilitary forces, laying in ambush with RPGs, he chose to stop and bring the fight to them. Captain Patterson, greetings." Patterson, breathless, asks for Meesh: "We just knocked out the Ba'ath headquarters. We have an opportunity..." Godfather holds up a fucking finger, because he'll be damned if anybody actually acts like they're involved with reality while he's giving a bullshit speech that has nothing to do with anything except glorifying his own retarded choices.

"There's a school of thought that says we shouldn't have stopped, particularly given the proximity to a hostile city. But this kind of aggressiveness is what I mean by interrupting the enemy's own decision-making cycle." Patterson is almost doing the pee-pee dance, he's so cockblocked right now; Encino Man is grinning dimly like Sloth; Sixta is nodding like a moron at nothing. Just nothing. Just more ballast for the bullshit, like Godfather is right here in front of you inventing the Art of fucking War. "It's against all doctrine, but as the General often reminds me, doctrine is the last refuge of the unimaginative." Oh, right. Your close personal friend General Chaos. What did you find up his ass today? Was it shiny?