Dateline: Marfa, TX.

Tasked with infiltrating the local separatist community and disrupting the general population whenever, wherever, and however possible we made a high speed, 21 hour, all out sling shot straight into the heart of darkness.

3 hours of sleep in 36 hours - check.

14 gallons of coffee - check.

One half eaten, moldy bag of Funyons to share between 3 guys - check.

Thru a meticulous subterfuge we were able to convince one of the locals to grind all of the coffee beans ahead of time and thereby avoid the old "hard tack" brewing method of chewing on the beans in between sips of scalding hot water but I chose to go directly to the hard stuff anyhow- a bottle of Bosco and a few lemon wedges.  A man has to keep his wits about him out here.

To think that the brass even considered launching an amphibious assault is just plain ridiculous!!!

JEEZ!

Do these guys even own a map!?!

The logistics of getting 3,200 metric tons of a medium-coarse Tulum beach sand and 450 million gallons of artesianal spring water onto trucks, across borders, and into position before the locals catch on, much less the noise those damn hovercrafts make on take off!?!

No way!

Not after last time.

But damn Weatherby up in the Big Office insisted on doing the initial paperwork if for no other reason than to spruce up his budget report.

"Let's run it up the flagpole and see what's what," he says.

It wasn't until I brought up the probability of The Dept. of Fish and Wildlife getting involved with that much fresh water moving across the interior that he relented.

"This is bat country, dammit people!!!",  I say.  "Think like a nocturnal flying rodent!"

Damn you, Weatherby!