There is only on thing to do about this. I can’t be bothered to make peace with a war-torn nation or implement diplomatic strategies to end all the violence. Yes, there is only one thing I can do. I reached into my oak desk and fished around for a moment, papers rustling and the sound pens and other trinkets clattering about near the back of the drawer. I grasped firmly the tool of absolution, the tool which would end this silly battle for coffee and llama fur.
“Sir, what is it?” that’s my assistant, Josef Sollaur private first class.
“It’s a stick of Nag Champa incense.”
“What? How will that help?”
I gave that bitch some serious stank eye, “It will help me make my retirement speech you dumb ass. This war is over for me, you can have my job. You know what, fuck it, you’re promoted to 4 star general. I’m out of here.”
And with that I walked out of my office where I spent so many years wasting away, drinking cheap booze and yelling at Josef. I was finally free, and happy. I walked out of the building, took a deep breath of fresh free air and was immediately shot in the forehead. Guess I forgot I was in a war camp behind enemy lines, whoops, my bad.