He looked down into his now half-empty beer bottle.
"Hey Karen," he asked, "Can I get a refill here?"
"C`mon, Benji," the bartender responded, "This is your eighth freakin` bottle of Bud Light this last hour. I don't enjoy cleaning up your barf every weekend!"
Benjamin heard his phone ring. It was his buddy Micheal.
"Hey, man! Whats up?"
There was alot of noise in the background, and the loud booms did not sound freindly.
"What the hell is going on over there?!"
"My kids are shooting off a bunch of firecrackers! Damn near woke up the whole neighborhood! It ain't even the 4th of July until tommorrow!"
"Sounds fun man!"
"Wanna come then?"
"I will think about it..."
"What? Can't party with an old freind?"
"Nothing like that, Mike... It just... brings back some bad memories..."
"Let me guess... Iraq."
"Diwaniya, to be exact"
It was nearly a decade ago, back during the first insurgency of Project NATO, the one thing that would change Ben's outlook on life forever...
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