Inspections Are Never Dull

Sergeant Warawa is moving his down the hall, inspecting the troops, their kit, the layout, everything. His sharp comments rise and fall. Sometimes a soft voice, sometimes hard. Usually he inspects a certain item more than others during an inspection. You don't know which one; completely random. If you're at the end, and out of sight, you could figure out what it was and make it perfect. Or a close approximation of it. Inspections, even good ones, are never "perfect." Being perfect is disallowed.

My thoughts are jarred by a clinking sound and the sharp gasp of surprised. Then:

"DeCarlo! What is this?"

"It looks like pocket change, Sergeant," came the cool reply.

"What's it doing in your underwear, DeCarlo? Is there something about this course I should know? A specific role you're playing in it?"

I nearly break out laughing. I can hear others trying to muffle their giggling. Sergeant Warawa's head pops out of DeCarlo's cubicle to look up and down the hall at the privates lined up along it, trying to find a victim for a moment before his attention is drawn back to DeCarlo.

"You see this, DeCarlo?"

"Yes, Sergeant. It's a nickle."

"It's a 1985 nickle." Sergeant Warawa places the nickle down. "It better be there next inspection, DeCarlo. I'll be checking."