Click, Clack, BOOM

I want to meet the man who thought of making a mech-sized shotgun, thought Johnson, unloading both chambers and turning an enemy squad into a mess of blood and bone chips.

“WHO THE HELL ARE WE LOOKING FOR, WAY OUT HERE, SIR?”

“L.T. SHARKEY, RAZOR COMPANY. THANK FUCK THIS IS OUR LAST PACKAGE!” yelled the commander over the roar of his mini-gun fire.

He could see the company just ahead, pinned down in the trench. Hopefully the LT was still alive, this package was COD.

Four rockets snarled their way through the sky and consumed those keeping the razor company at bay, in a furious gulp. Finally, the coast was clear.

As two groups of comrades walked towards each other, the LT yelled:

“Good of you fellas to help us out! What the hell brings you to the front lines?”

“eBay package, right here for you, sir!” said Johnson

“Thanks for the help, but isn’t this a bit much for a SNES FF3 MIB, private?”

“Well, what the hell did you think you get when you pay for priority shipping? Sign Here.”