YOUR ROOM — Your buddy, Private First Class William Jenkins, is frantically pounding on your door, yelling something about a piss test first thing this morning.
“I heard from Spc. Jones who overheard Staff Sgt. Sweeney tell Sgt. Jensen to be on hand for meat-gazing this morning,” he huffed. “Man, that Easter grass was such a bad idea!”
You, too, immediately regret blazing up on the highest of holy holidays, and are apparently struggling to expel all evidence of your extracurricular activities during the past 72 hours. Sources also confirmed that Staff Sgt. Sweeney still has your Whizzinator from the last urinalysis after you’ve already torn apart your room in vain looking for it.
“We should totally do a CrossFit WOD. We’ll totally sweat it all out,” Jenkins reportedly said, no doubt still under the effects of “Divine Inspiration,” an Easter-themed cannabis strain that put both of you in a temporary paralysis as you giggled at Scooby Doo cartoons on Sunday evening.
As the two of you fall into morning formation, the general panic is apparent.
“This is completely random, gents,” assures a bloodshot Staff Sgt. Sweeney. “This has absolutely nothing to do with Sunday being 4/20 or the fact you are all coming off a three-day Easter weekend.”
“Also, thanks for that Ascension Kush,” Sweeney whispered in your direction, winking. “That was some dope shit.”
Representatives from the E-4 Mafia have threatened a class-action lawsuit, condemning the abrupt departure from the customary two-week notification as “totally fucked up, brah.”
At press time, Spc. Jeremy Loenthal was overheard angrily bitching about how he took a huge piss right before he drove into work, and there’s no way he’ll be able to go again before lunch.