A Visit with Sarge

Gerald walked into the Sarge's office.

It wasn't the smartest thing to do, nor was it the bravest. To be brave, it would have required him to know the foolishness behind it.

Gerald paused at the door, and noticed the well polished name plate and how even the knob seemed to have an overachieving glow behind it. He knocked twice and after hearing a low, growling voice call out “Who is it?” He slowly opened the door and responded.
“What in the name of blue hell are you doing coming into my office like that private?” bellowed the Sergeant. “Do you have any idea how dearly this is going to cost you?”
Gerald wasn't very bright, but that he did know. He wasn't looking forward to the consequences, the hard labor, and the intense verbal beating him and his platoon were going to get. He thought back to the miles ran in the rain, the countless pushups until his arms couldn't support his body, and the many times he himself was almost in tears, though he would never admit it to anyone.

And that's when he thought about quitting.
“Look Sergeant Fluffy Mittens.” He said.
“I know you run a tight ship here at Sparkle Ninny's Cut and Groomers, but I think it's time for me to move on. I'm going AWOL.”

With that, he turned and walked away as briskly as he could, for he knew he could never bear to face the rage that must have been coursing through the Sergeant's eyes on that cold January morn.