I'm currently working on a short-story that gives the reader a little closer look at one particular sect of the Mutt-Generals, which is the Lapdog-Lackey's. Within the Lapdog-Lackey's are the Discord-Sisters, a trio of belligerent psychobitches who used to be high-ranking members of the counterintelligence department of the former Southeast Imperial American Territories of Asia.
They're not very nice "women", is an understatement.
Because first-n-foremost, they're ARCs. And they're Mang-ARCs at that, so?
They're not actually "women" in the sense of what we're accustomed to.
Because?
Women can't throw tanks.
Or shoot beams and blasts from their tits.
Though I suspect all women wish they could.
Especially when we men piss them off.
Thankfully, they cannot.
And so, we men, are safe.
For now.
Till they can.
Then?
Okay, that!?
That wasn't what I was looking for... fuck it.
It? Kinda makes my point.
Maybe.
Kinda sorta.
AHEM, MOVING RIGHT ALONG!
Within Byron Maxwell's unit the Discord-Sisters are always up underneath him directly and carry out mission-assignments based on his orders and his orders alone, giving them the ability to ignore the chain of command and even their direct superiors, Athena-&-Artemis. So? I'm on page two of typing out this short-story where it gets into the after-effects of the Mutt-Generals battle with Diana's Black Foxes. Okay, that's it for now, BACK TO WORK FOR ME.
Oh, and, yes.
I know that douche bag is two separate words.
But I have decided to make it all ONE WORD.
Because?
REASONS!
We now return to your regularly scheduled somethin-or-another...!
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