Sometimes Being Late to the Party Is AWESOME

Because, okay, small fandoms, I love them, but they make me so sad, guys. So much awesome! But so few people who seem to realize it. (Fastlaaaaane, but I have said that before. Two Guys and a Girl! Ryan Reynolds and Nathan Fillion, guys, come on!) If you come late, though, there might be enough fic to make you momentarily forget the sheer waste of it all; it's an awesome trick, until it ends. But!

I rented Generation Kill and I am, predictably, totally in love. Like, in love enough that I am debating over whether I can make a full list or if I should just throw together a prompt list and make up the difference with backlog. Or, hey, rent Band of Brothers and do a whole military docudrama theme. Whatever, I cannot plan rationally right now, there is zombie fic to be had. So I shall leave you with this:

Trombley: I didn't get to shoot no one, Sergeant.
Person: Awh, Trombley. Did your recruiting officer tell you you'd get to shoot people?
Trombley: Fuck yeah he did.
Person: See, Trombley asked about shooting people. I asked about pussy. Guy told me I get to go to Thailand and get all kinds of strange. What'd you ask about, Brad? Brad probably saw that TV commercial, the one with the knight who fucks up the dragon that turns into the Marine. 'Ooh-ooh, dress blues with a sword!' Haha! Fuckin' dress blues commercial, man. That got so many fucking guys. NOW look at us: Trombley hasn't killed anybody, I am a half a world away from good Thai pussy, and Colbert is out here rollin' around fuck-butt Iraq, hunting for dragons in a MOPP suit that smells like four days of piss and ball-sweat. You shoulda rolled into battle with a sword, Brad. That would have fuckin' rocked.