Colonel H Stinkmeaner Novels & Stories

He looks really stupid now. Adam put his pot on the table roughly and snorted in annoyance. Looking back at Uncle Austin. “You should throw away this useless and broken stove.” Uncle Austin looked at the maids and cooks. "Didn't you guys report the broken stove to me?" Ask uncle Austin to them.

Part of him wanted to growl at the breach of his territory, but the colonel outranked him and had every right to barge into the office as if it were his own. Colonel Conrad Bronn was an intimidating man. Despite the fact that Jackson was a good three inches taller, the Colonel still seemed to look down at him. Everything about the Colonel was hard and demanding. His mouth was a thin line framed by a strong nose and heavy brow with a frown that never budged. His hair was cropped so close to the skin it was impossible to tell what color it might have been; even his camouflage uniform was perfectly pressed and straight.

The stench was overwhelming, a mixture of sweat, smoke, and unwashed bodies. Men, women, and children sat in clusters on the ground, their eyes hollow, and their clothes ragged. They looked up at me briefly, then looked away again, uninterested. At a small wooden table, another officer scribbled something in a ledger. “Name,” he said without glancing at me. “Henry Freeman,” I replied quickly. “CEO of Mason Empire, international—” “Name,” the officer interrupted, his pen scratching lazily. I clenched my fists. “Henry Freeman.”

“Can I go now?” Lester did not want to stay in this place any longer. “You may leave.” The man’s words made Lester’s face brighten, but before the latter could feel happy, he added, “But there’s something you should keep in mind.” Lester lowered his head and said submissively, “What is it, sir?” “My name is Hugo Stark. You should have heard of me before,” the man in sunglasses smiled wickedly and spoke slowly. “Yes, yes!” Lester instantly felt cold and nodded rapidly. “You’re the ‘Wicked Doctor’, Hugo Stark in the capital. Your name is well known!”

Perfect is camp vice-president, camp counsellor and all-around Thanos. Colonel Anders has a ruptured eardrum sustained not from a firefight or anything but from hazing when he was still in the Army barracks. Now he’s an early retiree and is the sole Military Service instructor of Camp Unplugged’s small and fledgling ROTC unit. Because of his handicap, he has retained and in fact worsened the habit of speaking 30 decibels higher and showering you in spittle. His favorite phrases, as parodied countless times behind his back, are: “Gutdemit!” (Goddammit) “Stik tu da wol!” (Stick to the wall) “Dont yu eyebol-eyebol mi, kadet!” (Don’t you eyeball me, cadet) and “Drap! Gib mi a hanred!” (Drop! Giv

"No way." "I swear on my life," Aiden grins. "The smell was so bad it cleared the entire valley. The poor guy spent three days rolling in the river, but it wouldn't come off. Even the Alpha wouldn't go near him. He had to sleep a hundred yards downwind from the den for a week. We called him 'Stink' for the rest of his life." Harris is laughing now, a genuine, belly-shaking sound that lights up his face. He flops onto his bed, wiping a tear from his eye. "A wolf eating a skunk. That is fucking gold. I wish I could have seen that."

Chrissie laughed, “As long as you don’t mess with him.” Race chuckled. Frankly, he was a dog person. Give him a giant Great Dane or a German Shepherd, and he’d be quite content, but Chrissie loved that neurotic fur ball, so he tolerated it. As it turned out, Stinker loved him. Race didn’t know why, but he was the only person not subjected to Stinker’s temperament. The odoriferous stench of his feces was another matter altogether. Stinker earned his name, that was for sure, and guess who cleaned out the litter box? Race grunted, thinking about that, which brought Dena’s attention back to him.

(Colonel Xing) Colonel Xing is a once a slave, and just recently became a commoner, and now he is a high ranking officer in Aeternum military, which already raised his status to akin to a noble in any other nation. Despite being so, he is still carried that brunt, straight forward manner of speech, that is why he stammered on his words before the Duke.

Above being the cover story of Rolling Stone like some kind of rock star of telecommunications. He was nothing but a big jerk.