My most deep and sincerest apologies to regular viewers of this particular Weyland-Yutani Journal. It has come to my attention that this journal, belonging to Ms. Jeanette Vasquez of the United States Colonial Marines, was not updated regarding last week's request that each participant in her military unit write a piece on 'greatness'. This is due to a punishment recieved by Ms. Vasquez for threatening a Weyland-Yutani official with a loaded weapon that saw her facing a potential court martial, which doubtless would have gone ahead if Weyland Yutani had not dropped the charges as an act of charity to the accused.

Due to this, Ms Vasquez has been away from her post for much of the past fortnight, and so, whilst reprimanded for her behaviour, is exempt for participating in the 'greatness' Weyland Yutani Journal entry.

Yours sincerely,

Xavier Van Lewen
Military-Civilian Liason Officer
Weyland-Yutani

***

...f**king stiff. Court-martialing me for nothing. I wasn't really gonna shoot that f**king executive, just scare him off a bit, get him to stop being such a pri*k...

WY Journal Req. #215 - Seduction

Where the f**k they're trying to go with this, I have no idea. What's their game? They trying to catch us out for troop fraternisation? No luck to 'em, they won't need it. There's so much graba*s and sex talk in our unit it'd make a wh*re blush. Mostly Hudson, putting his hands where he knows they don't belong, talking about some girl he did, or he was going to do, or how much action he was gonna get the next time we got cut some slack. 

The other guys get into it as well, mind you. Only one I've never seen go on about his shoe size or his track record or his list of one-nighters is Hicks, but that's just the way he is. Drake, Frost, Spunkmeyer, Apone, Crowe, Weirzbowski...they all do it. Sometimes I join in - Deitrich and Ferro normally ignore 'em, go off and talk about some feminine sh*t, but not me. I listen in, hoping I'll get a laugh out of it, or maybe some sorta sex horror story that I can blackmail Hudson with later. It's alright if you ain't got anything better to do.

That ain't seduction though. I've never been seduced by anyone, 'cause I'm too street smart. No one's THAT good-looking, and I ain't gonna f**k-up my job in the Corps for any guy that talks dirty in my ear.

If that worked, I'd be scr*wing Hudson right about now. He's the only one to ever really try it on with me. At first it was just a joke, I think, just his way of breaking in the fresh meat, but I've been in the same unit as him for years and ever since I rocked up, once a week, every week, he's grabbed my a*s, and every time he does it I put him on the floor, hoping maybe one day he'll give it up.

But that's part of his charm, I think. He doesn't know how to give up. Not with seduction.

Or, at least, his version of it.

 What. The. F**k?

I just finish writing my last f**king WYJR and there's another one? Sh*t...

Crystal Ball. Where the hell did that request come from? What is a US Colonial Marine supposed to write about that? We ain't fortune tellers or f**kin' psychics, so what are we meant to know about that crazy voodoo sh*t?

What's Weyland-Yutani trying to represent here? The future? Looking ahead? Tryin' to predict sh*t before it happens?

Well ha-de-f**kin'-ha, you SOBs. Real funny. You're probably gonna read this and laugh. Then you're gonna come down and give Apone sh*t for not keeping a closer eye on what we're all writing.

*ssholes. You want me to talk about the future? Fine. Here's the last future-focused thing I remember:

I'm sitting in the Mess Hall with the guys, playin' poker like we always do. It's about 4:00am, and we're having the last hand of the night. I got Hudson on my left, tryin' to check out my cards, and Drake on my right, asleep with a dirty magazine draped over his face. Across from me there's Frost, Crowe and Spunkmeyer, and Ferro at the end of the table. We're all tired and we've had too much to drink. After three rounds none of us give enough of a sh*t to finish the game, and so we're all just sitting there like we ain't got the energy to move. And suddenly, Hudson says:

"Hey guys, can I ask you somethin?"

Most of the guys just grunt, but because I'm in a decent mood thanks to the alcohol, I indulge him.

"Sure, Hudson...whaddisit?"

He squints across the table, that bleary-eyed look he always gets when he's f**king plastered.

"If you could, y'know, see inta the future...and find out when you were gonna die, right...would you wanna know?"

Ferro looks at him like he's grown an extra pair of limbs, Spunkmeyer makes a face and Crowe just squints back like Hudson's speaking another language.

"...what th' f**k're you talkin' about, Hudson?"

"You know, like if you could find out when you were gonna buy it, would you want to?"

"No f**kin' way, man. Are you craazy..?" Spunkmeyer says. 

"No, think 'bout it. If you knew, then ya could stop it before it happened, y'know?"

"He's gotta point." Mutters Ferro.

"Yeah, but what if you were gonna die, like, tomorrow or some sh*t? Then what the f**k would you do?" Frost argues drunkenly.

"Well, I guess like Hudson said, y'could stop it happenin'." Says Crowe.

"Shutth'f**kup, guys, I'm tryin' ta sleep..." That's Drake's contribution to the whole thing.

"Wha' would you do, Vas?" Hudson turns to me.

"I don't f**kin' know, Hudson, cause it's never going to happen. You can't see into the f**kin' future, so it doesn't matter what I'd do if I could. Now shutup...we're all wasted an' we should be goin' to bed anyway." I tell him, mood swinging under the booze.

"...I'd wanna know..."

"I said shut up, Hudson."

That's the most futuristic thing that's happened to me in the past month. If it ain't what you wanna read, well, you know where to shove it, WY. Feel free to come down and complain about how I'm not addressing my topics like you want, but if you do, I can see an unfortunate accident somewhere in YOUR future...

PFC J. Vasquez, USCM

 That's what it's always about. Control. Basically a word meaning  
'the ability to NOT do something you really, really want to do,  
usually when someone else doesn't want you to do it, or it's gonna  
land you in the shit.'

 I used to get landed in the shit a lot when I was a street kid.  
Arrests, robberies, juvie, drugs, you name it, I probably got my ass 
  busted for it. All 'cause I did what I wanted, when I wanted. No  
control.

 It's different for me now. Since I got drafted to the Corps, I've  
learnt what to do and when to do it. Also learnt when you can break  
those rules - go crazy, and f*ck control.

 But hell, even then, it's still at the back of your mind, branded  
into your brain like some f*cking bumper sticker:

 Don't lose control of your gun when you're blowing someone's head to 
  pieces - you might swing too far one side, and shoot another Marine.

 Keep your temper under control - beating the sh*t out of some wet  
straight out of Officer Candidate School can get you court-martialed 
  pretty damn fast.

 Control your breathing, your appetite, the length of your shower -  
there's a Weyland-Yutani rep checking the Sulaco to see what all  
their defence spending goes towards.

 Control your in-fighting - you might break Hudson's face if you  
ain't careful.

 Despite all that sh*t, I never met anyone aside from Apone that  
could control me. Plenty've tried. I show 'em who's boss, and let  
'em walk away.

 Well, limp away.

 But hey, like I said, there are times when rules can be broken. Go  
crazy, and f*ck control.

PFC J. Vasquez, USMC

If this ends up being out of order and some smartass wants to tell me so, just remember how much you value your teeth...staying in your mouth, that is...

Four.

04.

WYjournal_profileno.04

Ferro.

Can't say much about her, really. She's fast, efficient...short...a f**king great pilot, too.

Got one smart mouth on her, though. Never one to pass up the op to give somebody else sh*t - usually Hudson or Spunkmeye or Frost. Kinda like me.

She's good company when you wanna talk to somebody female, without that feminine crap that Dietrich sometimes spills when she opens her trap. Got no use for that stuff out here.

Do we get along? Yeah, when our paths cross, we do...mostly swapping stories about something Drake said, or Hudson did, or that Spunkmeyer f**ked up. That's the usual deal with Ferro. That's why she's good value - cynical, smart, probably could've gone to Officer Candidate School, if she didn't swear on her daddy's grave that she never would. The most down-to-earth pilot you're ever gonna meet in the USCM.

And, no. The down-to-earth comment wasn't a joke, so if you're sniggering while you're reading this, reread the warning at the top of the entry.

Now who's laughing?

PFC J. Vasquez, USCM