Message of the week: Get out, while you still can. Out of Afghanistan, where not even a gurgling insurgency is going to keep troops from heading for the exits. Off the ship that's disintegrating beneath your feet.
The writing's on the wall. You may think you're untouchable. You may think they've forgotten who you are. You may think there's room to talk, or time to take it slow. There ain't.
Just scram. Don't answer the phone. Forget what's in the microwave. Drop the hipster pose. Pack your railgun, close your eyes, and run. Let the robots handle the dirty work from here. It'd be torture to do otherwise. The zombies are coming. You can rest next week.
