Beats By Dre (The Early Years)

by thoughtsonthedead

“General?”

“Sure, Jenkins?”

“OW! Jesus, General,  could you whisper?”

“Oh, sure. Sorry.”

“Anyway: how long I gotta wear this?”

“Until we invent radar, I would imagine.”

“And when will that be, sir?”

“Not for another few wars.”

“Oh. General?”

“Yes?”

“This thing is very uncomfortable.”

“Of course it is, Jenkins. We’re in the past. Everything is uncomfortable and filthy.”

“I suppose, sir.”

“Just look at what you’re wearing, for heaven’s sake. How much does your coat weigh?”

“Wet or dry, sir?”

“Has your coat ever been dry, Jenkins?”

“No, sir.”

“There you go. The weight?”

“Roundabouts 40 pounds, General.”

“Does it keep you warm?”

“Not in the slightest. Seems to trap the chill within itself, somehow.”

“Is it itchy?”

“Oh, the itchiest.”

“Well, then: your discomfort above your neck should distract you from your tribulations below. Problem solved.”

“There’s a reason you’re the general.”

“Yes, of course. When the war started, I said, ‘That sounds splendid; I’d like to be a general,’ and I’m rich, and so that is what happened.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Carry on, Jenkins. Have you heard the enemy at all?”

“Been listening to him for a few minutes, now.”