Some days were tiresome, sometimes were just unfortunate.

And some people were simply both.

“Get your ass in here pretty-bitch!” Your superior officer called out, old hag that she was, probably had sand in her vagina or something. But then that would be a permanent condition if it were the case. Some people were just sour fuckers. Still you stepped into her office, making sure a pleasant smile was painted across your lips as you sashayed your way in. Your dress was banging it even if it was utilitarian pseudo-military ware, an gods beyond you were going to flaunt every bloody chance you got. “Oh lord he even walks like a prissy little bitch too.”

You ignored her comments. “Yes Commander would you like something? You needed to see me about anything in particular?”

“I’d like to see you in the regulated MALE uniform for our outfit, temp hire or not. But valuable as you are you miserable little faggot, I’m forced to let you be.” She grumbled in a litany to which you’d become accustomed in your days of working with this group. She seemed to take your dress as an affront, but she seemed to take practically anything ‘civilian’ as an affront as well. Not falling in line with everyone else was about as ‘civilian’ as you could get. “Either way, I can’t get what I want. None the less there is something that just came up that I’m going to need from you.”

“Yes mam?” You answer with a smile; you’d figured out days ago that it pissed her off more than any other reaction you could give. The dried up old cunt didn’t know how to deal with someone who neither tried to fight back nor would fall in line.

The old cunt growled slightly before reaching back onto her desk for a couple of papers, her open contempt seething in the air between you as you simply continued to smile.

“