To: The one and only Texas Red, who still, to reputation, gotta' make some suckers dead. From: Gunda Riehl. Subject: Exercising second amendment rights to protect oneself from an oppressive and otherwise boorish government of total flabasses.
I'll summarize, cowboy:
Buncha' blue-balled blue-boys are exercising their right to judicial killin' way down in Beringia. We're now gettin' into Road-Runner'esque machinations as how to buttplug the oncoming diarrhoea.
Sanitation engineers are in demand and get paid some sweet hazard pay. We've also flooded the 'Port with Hamburg Breweries' finest naw' its a veritable Tortuga, if playin' hazard with yer life dogfightin' drunk with yer' hair on fire in a mine-filled ass-roid field flooded with the wreckage of the largest space battle the system's seen since the war ended, tickles your todger real fine.
You in?
For Rheinland,
Gunda Riehl,
Oberstarbeiter, Wedel outpost, Hamburg System.
The old man let out a long, exasperated sigh and tilted his head. He grabbed his hat and placed it on his head slowly.
Y'all done got yourselves in one hell of a mess, huh? Reckon it's time I dusted off my babies on the ol' Bargie, anyway. Provided my boys and girls ain't end up in shackles or end up in graves, I'll round up who I can.
Time I remind the boys in blue that legends don't blow up Overlords, and I ain't gettin' in no damn hole until I'm dead.
We'll be seeing each other soon, darlin'. 'Till then, happy trails.