Bretonian Armed Forces Recruitment Centre (iRP)

[bluntpencil2001]

"Aight, get that pair into my office," he said down his intercom to the secretary, making every effort to sound inebriated as she claimed. He had a reputation to keep up, apparently.

"Yes, of course, Admiral Andrews..."

She then sent the two young men in to speak to what appeared to be a rather drunken admiral with a strange beard. Was it even real? It didn't matter, anyway.

He smartened up instantaneously, in spite of the smell of liquor pervading the room.

"Good morning, gentlemen. Don't salute, you're still civilians, heheh...

Anyway, you'll want to fill these forms in, and then we'll see about a little interview, but I'm sure you'll do just fine, aye?"

He looked over the pair of recruits. The rich looking one was probably the noble kid. The one with the freakish muscles was probably the one that had been on steroids. It didn't take him long to work out who he thought could crush a ping pong quicker.

---