Bradley St. Amant, St. George 3rd Infantry
6:15 a.m. Sunday, December 21, 2014
It is with a heavy heart that I write this correspondence to you, my love, for while this should be a joyful time of year, a sense of melancholy has enveloped the camp and cast a pall over the proud men of St. George.
With all these myriad defections we’ve seen this year by turncoats at the Mall of Louisiana, Costcoton, Celtic Center, and our former naval installation at L’Auberge, our assets are steadily dwindling to the point of desperation.
Times are lean, my dear, so much so there are rumors that some desperate men have even resorted to eating at the Arby’s on Siegen Lane.
Our leaders like Col. Lionel Rainey continue to put on a brave front, insisting we still have enough resources to claim a lasting victory against our oppressors from Baton Rouge, yet our paltry rations, just like the accountants at Faulk and Winkler, say otherwise.
Times are lean, my dear, so much so there are rumors that some desperate men have even resorted to eating at the Arby’s on Siegen Lane. While I am chronically famished, I’ve yet to be overcome by such abjectness that I would debase myself to consume that which is not fit for man nor beast.
I pray this conflict is resolved soon so that I may once again behold your lovely visage and enjoy your terrible cooking.
Alan William Stills, Baton Rouge 1st Battalion
7:30 a.m. Saturday, December 20, 2014
I hope you and the children are doing well as we prepare to celebrate the joy of Christmas, as well as the continued economic strangulation of the rebellion by those rapscallions in St. George.
Those poor bastards must be so weak and underfed, they’re probably boiling their boots, or worse, by now. As we continue to reclaim our rightful territory, the fewer resources they have to continue waging this seditious war we have long found ourselves engaged in.
Several of our men were nearly killed by a blasted reindeer-antler-adorned SUV being driven by a distracted trophy wife.
Yet, despite some of these reclaimed areas being under our control for some time now, they are still quite treacherous for travel, especially the Mall of Louisiana.
Why, just last night, my love, several of our men were nearly killed by a blasted reindeer-antler-adorned SUV being driven by a distracted trophy wife. We counted ourselves fortunate to have survived such a harrowing expedition, which, interestingly enough, apparently was the moniker on that damnable SUV.
Please promise me that when this war is over, you will never ever ask for me to take you there. While I’m glad the mall is now under the control of Baton Rouge forces, I do not wish to wage further war by navigating the moron-laden roads and lots surrounding it.
Hug the children for me and tell them I love them.
All my love,