Magic Murder Cube Marine - Prologue

General Mac “Truck” Richardson of the United States Marine Corps looked at the phone book thick file in front of him. It was one of seven such files detailing the life and exploits of a remarkable marine who died in the line of duty. Or more accurately, was vaporized. At least he died doing what he loved, killing everything around him.

Nobody knew if thirty-six year old Corporal Francis Francis Francis the 3rd (known affectionately as “Triple F”, “Trip”, or “Flamingo”) was crazy, stupid, or just really good at his job. If Francis was as intelligent as his test scores suggested, he certainly never let on.

The filing cabinet that housed his records was filled with commendations and corrective actions that read like something Michael Bay would write, if he were on a steady drip of bad acid, anabolic steroids, and horse tranquilizers.

Some of them stuck out in particular. The General had high enough clearance to see what had been redacted and it read like an extremely violent game of mad libs.

That last one was why the general had gotten involved. Somewhere far away there was a crater a mile wide that used to be an enemy arms depot. They would have blown it up themselves but the enemy were using captured soldiers as human shields. One night Corporal Francis had gone for a “walk” and disappeared. Six hours later a fireball lit up the sky.

Sometime after that a group of dazed grunts showed up with a story about how they were rescued by a seven foot tall man in hot pink flip flops and matching booty shorts. They were able to positively identify him as the missing corporal by the letters USMC tattooed backwards across his left pectoral. (Corporal Francis had done the work himself with a stolen tattoo gun and a mirror when he was seventeen.)

The last time anyone saw Corporal Francis, he was running deeper into the enemy depot with a box of grenades under one arm and a case of Rip-It energy drinks under the other. The resulting explosion could be seen from space.

General Richardson looked at the most recent page in the file. They had listed Corporal Francis as missing in action, despite the large smoking crater at his last known location. He had a decision to make. The man’s unit was begging command to hold off on listing Francis as killed in action. They were tired of having to put Corporal Francis back on the roster every time he wandered back to base after one of his “walks”. They had learned their lesson the third time and were trying to avoid the paperwork.

The Marine had amassed a legendary reputation in his nineteen years of service. Some might even say he was touched by God’s own hand. But a month had passed with no sightings of Francis, so the general decided to mark him as KIA, for now.

Francis Francis Francis the 3rd had no living relatives. The phone number for his next of kin turned out to be a phone sex line. The ladies cried when they heard the news. After an hour of hearing stories about Francis, and how much the ladies loved him, the officer realized he was being charged by the minute. He listened for another hour before thanking them and hanging up. They were pretty good stories.