Spud prepares to battle Osama bin Laden
Spud's term at the Royal Military College provided an intensive training program to ready the potato for war. His basic training included a gruelling regimen of physical activities that tested the limits of the tuber as well as field training in the use of a wide variety of military weaponry. Nights were spent playing full-contact Risk and watching endless marathons of Rambo films.
The tater's unique skills were noticed early on by the big brass of the Military's elite special forces. Eager to utilize Spud in a secret mission to Afghanistan, they pulled the potato from his training and into a top secret briefing. The head of the elite force had noticed that Spud's size and appearance would be ideal for a plan to smuggle him undetected, into the mountainous Tora Bora region where bin Laden was hiding. The general continued to explain that Spud would hide undercover amongst a shipment of potatoes that were being dropped as part of a United Nations relief effort. Once on the ground, the unknowing Taliban would transport the terminating tater right onto the plate of the terrorist network kingpin, where Spud could do his duty and rid the world of this filth. Ready to do battle, he accepted these important orders and prepared his aresenal for the long flight to the war-torn region of Kandahar.
Spud boarded the giant cargo plane late that night. The tater stuffed his M-16, mortar launcher and grenades into the back of his hollow head and then proceeded to don his aluminum foil disguise. Once outfitted, the tuber took his place amongst hundreds of thousands of other potatoes in their burlap confines. Spud wasn't looking forward to being in such cramped quarters for a flight halfway across the world, but he was prepared to do anything for his cause to liberate the free world.
In what only seemed to be a few short hours later, the potato heard the plane's massive cargo door opening; signalling the pending drop into enemy territory. Within seconds, he and his starchy brethren were plummeting towards the earth. They met terra firma soon thereafter with a large THUD.
A flurry of activity could be heard as the recipients tore into the piles of burlap sacks. Spud strained to listen from the darkness behind his tin shroud, but found nothing coherent. Confident that he would be chosen for bin Laden because his robust size dwarfed the other potatoes, the tater tensed up - poised and ready for assault. Suddenly he was snatched from the pile - this was it; he had been chosen. Minutes later he was placed down again and he felt a hot sensation come across his face; must be the desert heat of the Afghani sun, he thought.
Soon the temperature itensified and Spud began sweating profusely. The tuber rolled over to seek relief and the sweltering heat scorched the back of his head. 'Yow this sun is hot' the tater thought to himself as he battled to maintain his composure and avoid blowing his cover. Soon Spud could smell his skin burning and the potato squealed in pain, tearing through his tin foil disguise. Grabbing a grenade from his trapdoor, Spud looked around for his bearded foe but found no one even remotely resembling him let alone the Taliban.
Instead, the potato was surrounded by hundreds of beer swilling cowboys armed with tongs and spatulas. Apparently, Spud had mistakenly boarded a FedEx flight destined for the Texas State BBQ Cook-Off. His mission to rid the world of Terrorism would have to wait another day.