Dear Diary. We are under siege. It is not a siege in the conventional sense. It is a siege of the mind. The enemy has broadsided us in our own inner sanctum, and as a result, the SENSE of our own vulnerability is our new greatest weakness.

"HEY, NOW THAT'S A GOOD BEASTIE. SIT UP FOR STORMSHADOW! ATTA BOY! GOOD BEASTIE."

A dark quiet has fallen over all fronts. It has been very dark and very quiet. Too dark and quiet. We are drowning in dark quietness.

"OY BEASTIE, I BETCHA CANNA FETCH THIS ONE OUTTA THE AIR!"

I suspect this dark quiet is a part of the Monster's plan to let us stew in the idea of our own insecurity. Here we sit while out there they grow stronger. Even if that isn't the case, I cannot help but think those thoughts, and that, too, may be what the enemy has intended.

"Sir! Sir!" Fightmaster Stormshadow ran up to the barricade of lamps which marked the no-go zone around Billy's bed. He retained the stealthy sneak of a ninja even if his mannerisms had become crude and boisterous. Billy hadn't heard him approach.

"Sir, you ordered me to tell you if n' when I made progress with the big beastie."

Billy put his pencil down and looked up from his writing. "Excellent, commander. Has the beas... enemy prisoner opened up to you about enemy positions, strategic placement of scary shadows, the implementation of imminent lightning storms?"

"Better, sir! I've taught him to sit up and beg. Watch this, sir."

The Creature From the Black Lagoon had been released from its skipping rope cage with the hope that it might sympathize with its captors and be more forthcoming with enemy information; however, it was not allowed to venture past the lines surrounding Billy's bed, and was required to stay on its current side of the room.

Fightmaster Stormshadow had fought him on the second point, but Billy wished to take no chances with the creature being recaptured by the enemy after having spent so much time in Billy's bedroom, possibly gaining valuable intel. So no going near the bed where it could be grabbed and pulled underneath by monster hands, and the closet door had to remain shut at all times.

Fightmaster Stormshadow ran back to where the creature was waiting for him. Its two inch claws and translucent fish fangs glittered in the light, and Billy shuddered involuntarily. "Who's a good fella!?" shouted Fightmaster Stormshadow. "Beastie wanna treat?"

At that, the monster squat on its hind legs like a dog and thrust its neck out, all ten claws hovering in the air in front of it. Fightmaster Stormshadow then threw a wiggly snack up into the air where the creature snatched it in its powerful jaws and sucked it in.

"Good beastie! He's a real corker, ain't he, sir?"

Billy stared a moment. He tapped his pencil on his open journal. "Soldier," he said, "Was that one of my jelly worms which you just fed to that prisoner?"

"Aye, sir," said Fightmaster Stormshadow happily. "The big beastie loves 'em."

"I see," said Billy. "Well done, soldier. Carry on."

Fightmaster Stormshadow ran up to the ugly monster and patted him on the belly. The creature's reptile lips pulled back from its mouthful of rending teeth with pleasure.

"Alphie," said Billy into his wrist radio, "Come in, Alphie."

Alphie was Billy's second in command, and the computational brains of their war effort, in charge of logistics, tactics, robot voices. Alphie answered immediately. "Yes, sir?"

"Alphie, I have a question for you."

"Yes, sir."

"Alphie, would it be considered militarily unethical to order a nuclear strike against one of my own soldiers?"

A pause. "Is it me, sir?"

"No, Alphie, not you."

"Is it Scuba Steve, sir."

"No, it is - wait, why would you ask if it's Scuba Steve?"

"It may affect the outcome of your query, sir."

Billy puzzled, "But Scuba Steve is a fine soldier, is he not? Unless he's doing something I should know about?"

"I want his position, sir."

"YOU want to be the underwater corps? Goddammit, Alphie, you're a robot. You'd explode!"

"I've always dreamed of being an olympic swimmer, sir."

Billy sighed. "Dammit, Alphie, it's Fightmaster Stormshadow. He's fed my jelly worms to the enemy prisoner."

"In that case, sir, I'm afraid it would be ethically compromising."

"Dammit. Thank you, Alphie. Over."

Billy looked over to where it looked like Fightmaster Stormshadow was trying to teach the monster how to roll over. Each time its hard flippers smacked against the spokes of Billy's bike, he cringed.

Billy returned to his book.

Dear Diary, War is Hell.

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