Retired sergeant major discovers freedom is free
BOULDER, Colo. — Peering over his white picket fence, wearing a red flannel shirt, Stetson, and leather boots, retired Sgt. Maj. Michael Wilson, now a small business owner in Colorado, reports that life after the military has “shattered the very foundation” of what he “believed to be true about freedom in America.”
“When I was a new private, only seventeen, I remember my drill sergeant putting his boot on my head, pushing my face into the mud, and telling me that I had no rights, that I was his bitch, and that I had to earn my freedom,” Wilson said with a hint of nostalgia.
“For 35 years I believed freedom was earned, not given,” Wilson continued. “But then I retired and discovered the truth: freedom is free for everyone in America, and it’s fucking awesome.”
Wilson, who recently opened a marijuana smoke shop called “Float To Blaze Town,” spoke while stroking a wild, unkempt beard.
He says every night he lounges in his backyard, rips “dabs off his domeless titanium nail,” and tries to focus his bloodshot eyes on the Rocky Mountains.
“Man, I wish my family had cued me in on reality when I was seventeen,” Wilson said while tearing into a box of Honeybuns. “I’m Rocky Mountain high every night and no one cares. I can do anything. For the first time in my adult life I’m equal to everyone around me. It’s amazing.”
Eager to share his revelation with the world, Wilson insisted on demonstrating his newly acquired freedoms.
“Check this out,” he said, while taking a whiz on the public land behind his home. “Not enough? Well, what about this?” he goaded before shouting, “Fuck my old commander and his stupid training meeting!”
“See, nothing. I’m free.”
Lionel Madison, Wilson’s neighbor and frequent customer, reported that at night he often hears Wilson howling at the moon, smashing bottles, and firing his Desert Eagle .50 AE into the darkness, while screaming that the “MPs can come get me if they have the balls!”
“So what he gets a little wild? He’s a real hero, and I want him to know he’s welcome. Although, I’d really like him to mow his lawn,” Madison said.
“Mow my lawn? What’s babyface going to do? Order me to do it? I’d like to see him try,” Wilson said before lighting his blowtorch, ripping another dab, and then launching some darts at a picture of his old division commander.