Baking Up Justice

"It never gets easier."

"What, Joe? Killing the enemy?"

Joe reaches the chopper, steps one foot inside, turns to face a fellow soldier. He slowly takes his aviators off.

"No, doing the right thing."

Joe hops on the helicopter. His body glistens in the sun, the way one would expect a trout that meets Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing would. He is shirtless, wearing a bandana, with a look on his face that says he's been here before.

"Let's do it again. For our women. For our fellow soldiers."

"For America?"

Joe gets a distant look in his eye.

"...That goes without saying. But I'm glad you said it."

The chopper flies over a thick jungle. Joe is standing in the doorframe. He is holding an American flag and eating a slice of apple pie.

"Where'd you get that pie, Joe?"

"I made it myself – out of 3 bullets, a hunting knife, an enemy’s boot strap, and the memories of fallen friends."

"Oh... any good?"

"...It could use some sugar."

"Quite the cook, huh Joe?"

"My sweetie back home runs a bakery. I watch her sometimes when I'm thinking of ways to kill."

Joe takes a look towards the ground. 

"Take her down."

"What?! Here, Joe? I can't land here! We'll be shot at!"

Joe grabs the pilot, spins him around, and looks him right in the eye.

"Getting shot at is what I came over here for. That – and to see the look in your eye when I do this."

Joe picks the pilot up and throws him outside of the chopper.

"I never should have questioned America! God bless you, Joooooeeeee!"

Joe grabs the controls and sends the helicopter into a nosedive. As the ground gets closer and closer, a small smirk appears on Joe's face. He is finishing the last of the apple pie.

The ground is getting closer and the helicopter is heading straight for a small schoolhouse.

"Hmmm. ‘School for the Blind’. They're not even gonna see it coming."

Joe wipes his mouth with his American flag and then dives out of the helicopter. The helicopter slams into the school, blowing it to pieces. The school’s teacher and students were on their way in.

"Oh, dear God! Students! I'm happy you can't see this."

"Why, Mrs. Doubletree? What was that loud bang?"

"Ahh... it was math. Math saying, "learn me!"

"And the feeling of fire?"

"That's the tardy dragon saying we're late. Now open those books!"

Joe is swooping towards the earth as if he is an eagle about to pluck a fish out of a lake. He is holding the American flag in his hands by the pole. 

"Nobody said it was gonna be easy, but it sure will be fun."

Joe hits the ground and instantly throws the American flag and pole through three men – impaling them against a tree. As they die, they each give a thumbs up as the American Flag waves in them. 

Joe ducks behind a barrel and peers around it. He sees a man walking with a donkey dragging a cart and a store where a few men and women are standing out front talking.

"Taking a break, huh guys? Well, you're about to get Joe Horsepower-ed... that's killed!"

Joe jumps out from behind the barrel. He runs toward the man with the donkey cart and kicks him in the chest.

"Don't bother getting up. That was a Horsepower kick. Your insides are mush."

Joe takes a grenade off of his belt, pulls the pin, puts it inside the donkey’s mouth and picks him up.

"EEEE AHHHH! EEEE AHHHH!"

"You're about to be Mule-tilated!"

Joe throws the mule towards the men and women in front of the store.

"EEEE AHHHHHHHHH!" BOOM! The people are thrown about. Just then, Joe's General comes running out of the store with his gun drawn.

"Jesus Christ! What the hell is going on out here?! Joe! JOE! What the hell are you doing?"

"Sir, what am I doing? I'm spreading freedom across this war torn land."

"You dumb son of a bitch! This is neutral land! There's no fighting going on here! You just killed innocent people! Couldn't you tell – by the fact that nobody had a gun? Or that a damn donkey was in the middle of the road instead of a jeep or artillery truck?!"

"...Sir, with all due respect, I thought the donkey was a jeep. A jeep – with an elaborate donkey cover."

"GOD DAMMIT IT. JOE! THAT'S IT! You are out of here! You are discharged! Dis-honorably discharged! DIS-HONORABLY, DIS-HONORABLY DISCHARGED!"

"...Is that the most dis-honorable way to discharge?"

"YES! God damn it, yes! I'm making sure you go to anger management as well before you are let back on the American taxpayer! Get on that helicopter!"

A helicopter lands behind Joe. He turns around and walks towards the helicopter. As he gets on, he turns to look at his General. The General is saluting with his middle finger.

"All right, everyone. Welcome to Anger Management."

Joe is sitting in a semi-circle of chairs. There is a table with a coffee maker and muffins against the wall. Around Joe are other soldiers. The anger management coach sits in front of them.

"Now, you are all here because you cannot control your anger. Let's go around the room and share the incident that got you here. Colonel Smith?"

"...All right. I was doing my laundry and a dryer ate my sock. That sock... that beloved sock... was one half of a pair my daughter made for me in her sewing class. They never fit right and they were purple, but that's not the point. I loved that sock!"

"I understand. And what did you do?"

"I rigged the dryer with C-4 and I blew it up! How was I to know that it was enough C-4 to take out an entire floor? Huh?! HOW WAS I TO KNOW!"

"Shhh. Breathe, Colonel Smith. Count backwards from one million, six hundred and forty seven thousand, three hundred and forty one."

"ONE MILLION, SIX HUNDRED AND FORTY SEVEN THOUSAND, THREE HUNDRED AND FORTY ONE! One million, six hundred and forty seven thousand, three hundred and forty. One million, six hun..."

"Joe Horsepower, would you like to share?"

Joe looks up from his hands. He has "freedom" and "Chevy" tattooed on his palms.

"Yeah, I'll tell you. I'm here because I love my country too much. I'm here because I love eagles, baseball, and monster trucks! I'm here because other countries are WRONG!"

Joe stands up, pumping his fist in the air.

"...I see. Are you also here because you threw a pilot out of a helicopter, blew up a school for blind children, impaled three men with a flagpole, dropkicked another man turning his insides to pudding, and force fed a donkey a grenade before throwing it at a group of civilians?"

Joe lowers his arm.

"...No contest."