Congratulations, fellow compatriots. Welcome to episode nine of the Crossing Guard tapes. We are coming to you from an undisclosed location. What you are about to hear is true. This is an unauthorized account taken from the diary of Mike Limbo during his stint as an agent in the Deep State organization known as the Guards of the Realm. Mike has been forced to live in a shadow world where he has no friends, no family, no name. He needs our help. Please help us get the word out. Join us as we bring you episode nine of the Crossing Guard tapes.
Speaker 2:November 23rd 1988. Hansen told me to shower up and get dressed in my new uniform. After that he told me I had to report to my barracks commander. Then he saluted and left. I noticed then that there were twelve sets of bunks, but only two of the lockers had names on them. The rest of them looked empty and unused. I kept thinking to myself what a strange place this was and how the fuck did I end up here? I quickly showered and dressed. I was so hungry that all I wanted to do was find out where I could get some food. I didn't care how stupid I looked, even though I did look a little sharp. I bet chicks would go for this.
Speaker 2:Uniforms always get them horny. When I found my barracks commander, he was at his desk in an office across the hall from the showers. His desk plaque said that his name was Corporal Messerschmitt and he looked like a total hard ass. He had one of those flat top haircuts that hard asses always have, and he looked like he was already pissed off even before I said a single word. Better keep my head screwed on around this one. His uniform was just like mine, except with a few more stripes. On his shoulders the Corporal had a stack of paperwork on his desk and was busy typing One finger at a time on his computer while muttering under his breath. When I walked in he looked up for a second, then went back to his typing. I waited a few seconds and then clicked my boots together and saluted him saying Guard of the Realm, limbo, first class reporting for duty. That got his attention. He stopped typing and looked up at me.
Speaker 3:I tucked in your shirt, cadet.
Speaker 2:I tucked in my shirt. All right, Immediately. Maybe sooner he got up from behind his desk and walked right up in front of me until we were standing face to face.
Speaker 3:You want to be treated like a guard of the realm, then maybe you should start behaving like one.
Speaker 2:I almost said I just got here, cut me some slack. Instead, I tucked my shirt in a little more just in case, and then stood at attention. After what seemed like nearly an hour, he finally told me to stand at ease. Stand at ease, cadet. The whole time staring into my eyes and breathing his stinking coffee breath in my face, he started barking shit at me like one of those drill sergeants you see in the movies.
Speaker 3:For the next 30 days you will be in physical training. It's called boot camp. Reveley is at 0400 every morning. You will have one half an hour to dress, make your bunk and get down to the commissary. You will have 15 minutes to eat your breakfast At 0500. You will report back to me and I will work you like a dog from sun up to sun down. Any questions?
Speaker 2:I only had one question for him how do I get as far away from here as possible? But of course I didn't actually say that. In fact, I didn't say a word.
Speaker 3:Any questions.
Speaker 2:He asked again. This time he sounded like he meant it. I kept thinking to myself if I speak, he will hurt me, and if I say nothing, he will still hurt me. His face was butted up against mine and I thought that he was going to bite my nose off. I was practically shitting in my pants. I couldn't decide which way to go. If I didn't answer him, he would think I was ignoring him, which was disrespectful, and he would show me the importance of respect and that would hurt. But if I spoke, he would think that I was just some disrespectful, snot-nosed punk and he would beat the snot out of me. I chose to stand there in silence, hoping that his phone would ring or that I'd wake up from this total fucking nightmare. Finally he goes.
Speaker 3:You chose wisely, my friend. From now on, you will jump when I tell you to jump and he will shit when I tell you to shit. When I speak, you will listen and obey. You are nothing right now. You are nothing right now. In fact, you are less than nothing. But by the time I am finished with you, you will be fit to wear the uniform of a guard of the realm. Now, drop and give me 50 push-ups.
Speaker 2:I've been in basic training now for a month or so. It's been the same routine every day Wake up at 4am, eat shit and then go do physical training until noon. Classes go until sundown and then I eat dinner and pass out until they drag my tired ass out of bed again. They're training me to be hard in body and mind. Oh my god, I'm dead, fucking tired. I'm even too tired to masturbate, not that I have any privacy in this place. March 24th 1989. The physical training is grueling. They started me out with the basic stuff like the treadmill and the stationary bike, but now I'm running 5 miles a day and hitting the weight room for a couple hours. I'm as hard as a rock. The mental training, that's been a little slower going. I've learned words that I never even knew existed. I'm learning new languages too, and I can speak somewhat fluently in Spanish and Russian. They tell me that before I'm finished I'll be speaking Japanese, chinese and even some Arabic. Foreign languages are my main focus right now. However, they're also teaching me how to read aviation maps and how to survive in the jungle.
Speaker 2:April 3rd 1989. It can get pretty spooky here, sometimes laying in my cot at night. Most of the time I'm alone in this large and mostly empty barracks with just the quiet hum of the air conditioner and the sound of my breathing. Occasionally you can hear the faint sounds of a door slamming echoing through the long empty corridors or down in the depths somewhere. It can give me the creeps, especially when I wake up in the middle of the night from a dream, or to use the latrine and find myself totally alone. Even more so now. Since they moved Hans into a different wing.
Speaker 2:I've really had to change the way I think, act and talk. I must address everybody with yesers and no-sers and treat everybody with respect. When my superiors speak, I must listen and respond only when asked. I've had to change the way I speak completely as well, and I can no longer cuss. Last week I accidentally used the F word and got into a lot of trouble. I was training in the weight room with Guard of the Realm Hansen and somehow I managed to drop a 10 pound weight on my toe. It hurt like a mother f Well, let's just say that it hurt A lot.
Speaker 2:The other cadets gathered around me to make sure that I was alright. I took off my shoe and was amazed to see that my toe had already ballooned up to the size of a golf ball. Fucking fuck is the word that popped out of my mouth. That didn't mean to say it, it just popped out before I could stop it and before I knew it they were all beating the living crap out of me. They all took turns holding me while the others kicked me in the balls or punched me in the stomach. I was puking up shit and bleeding all over the place. Eventually they dragged me to the shower and washed my mouth out with a bar of soap. When they were finished, they turned the showers on full and left me laying there like a half drowned puppy. I guess I learned my lesson.
Speaker 2:I haven't cussed since July 15th 1989. They were right, I can speak Chinese and Japanese. Arabic is not as easy for me, but I'm working at it and they keep telling me that I'll be riding camels before you know it. I have begun training with weapons. July 23rd 1989. Sometimes I feel so strange and lonely here. So far I've only met a few other trainees, and when I do, they seem to show up for a few days and then vanish, never to be seen again.
Speaker 2:August 3rd 1989, I am learning how to send and receive Morse code and how to read semaphore. It wasn't easy, believe me. Semaphore is a system for conveying information at a distance by means of visual signals, with handheld flags, rods, disks, panels. September 8th 1989 I haven't been outside of this compound since last November, which makes it just over seven months. None of the rooms have windows, so other than watching the news on TV, I've pretty much had no contact with the outside world. Tomorrow is different. They've given me clearance to participate Some sort of intelligence gathering mission, which means I'll be able to go outside to breathe the fresh air, to drive in a car again.
Speaker 2:I've made very few friends. It's a strange place, but they feed me and they treat me okay. You've got me on the missile launching and anti-aircraft weapon simulators too. Getting the hang of those missile launchers has been a real challenge. I thought you had me there, didn't you? I've accidentally taken out whole cities, and once I nailed three quarters of the Middle East when I forgot one stupid code word. One stupid code word. Gotta work harder and stay focused. By the time I looked it up in the manual, a wall of nukes had blasted them back to the stone ages in the simulator.
Speaker 2:Of course, I haven't been outside of this compound since last November, which makes it just over seven months. None of the rooms have windows, so other than watching the news on TV, I've pretty much had no contact with the outside world. So far. I've only met a few other trainees, and when I do, they seem to show up for a few days and then vanish, never to be seen again. I wish I had some of Buddy's Syphilis pills right now. Those were coming handy. Oh, and I forgot to tell you. I forgot to mention I've been promoted. I am now guard of the realm limbo, second class. I've been promoted. I've got two stripes on my sleeve, september 1st, and I think I'm too tired to care. Good night.
Speaker 1:You have just heard episode 9 of the Crossing Guard tapes. We are shutting down our transmitter now to prevent the DOJ from tracing our signal and, dear listeners, due to the FBI's unrelenting effort to recover the tapes, there is a risk that they could be monitoring our site. So be sure to keep a low profile when sharing, subscribing and liking. Until next time. Co-conspirators, stay alive and spread the word. The Crossing Guard tapes was written and produced by Jim Waters, featuring the voice talent of Tommy Nicolai, pat Waters, stephen Gladish and Gomez Waters, with original music from Pendulum, incorporated Technical support and marketing. Courtesy of Jazz Carowall. The number you have dialed has been changed. The new number is Please help State Chronicles.