When our friend Glen was promoted to Master Sergeant, Jim, me, Glen and Linn Webber decided it was time to tie one on.  We went to the grass roof of the station (NNN0MHK), and started drinking and telling lies. 

A few hours later, Jim decided it was time to hit the beach.  He had located a particularly dirty little bar in Kaneohe, and wanted to share his booty. On the way to the gate, Jim decided it would be nice if we were to stop by the CommO's house, and make an offer for him to join us for a late night drink. 

The rest of us, missing the irony - it was well past two o'clock - shook our collective heads and off we went.  When we got to the Major's house, we knocked on the door, repeatedly, until his wife opened it, blurry eyed.  Since I was the only person she actually knew, she leaned out the door, and asked just what the hell we wanted. She also started to ask if we were drunk, but looked around and didn't make the effort. 

Since her husband wasn't around, it seamed like a good idea to extend our offer to her, as an excellent example of the female of the species.  Jim, thinking better of the offer, amended it by assuring her that she could bring the Major along if she wanted.  She reluctantly invited us into the foyer, and excused herself to wake her husband.

While we waited, we wondered around the living room checking out the Majors stuff, while Jim gazed into the officer's 100 gallon aquarium which held some very expensive gold fish, and other exotic animal life.  We could hear the Major bumping around in the hallway, and I turned to greet him.

Just before he turned the corner into the foyer, Glen tapped me on the shoulder, and pointed toward our industrious friend. 

Jim stood there on his tip toes, his shirt sleeve rolled up as high as it would go, reaching deep into the tank to snare one of the slower, and fatter little swimmers.  Just as the Major rounded the corner into the foyer, Jim popped the chubby little aquanaut into his gaping mouth like a blue point oyster. 

I didn't know what to do, since I had known the Major for quite a while, and he didn't have a funny bone in his body.  He was not going to like the idea that Jim was eating his prize pets.

While Glen tried to distract the skipper, I negotiated the release of the fish, which happened to be sticking out of the corner of Jim's mouth.  The Major finally figured out what was happening, and pushed his way past me to stand before Jim. 

He stuck his hand under Jim's chin and said "Gunny, I should tell you, that those particular snacks cost about five hundred dollars apiece," he smiled at him.  "Will that be cash or check?" 

Jim spit the still living, albeit frightened fish into the Major's hand, and he promptly tossed it back into the deep end of the pool.  

Feeling we had overstayed our welcome, we all started for the door.  The Major shook his head, grabbed his jacket, and wearing pajama bottoms and slippers, joined us atop the MARS station for a few beers, and the best story telling session I have ever had.