Word: Extenuate

extenuate

[ ik-sten-yoo-eyt ]

verb (used with object), ex·ten·u·at·ed, ex·ten·u·at·ing.

to represent (a fault, offense, etc.) as less serious: to extenuate a crime.

to serve to make (a fault, offense, etc.) seem less serious.

to underestimate, underrate, or make light of: Do not extenuate the difficulties we are in.

Archaic.

1. to make thin, lean, or emaciated.
2. to reduce the consistency or density of.

*****************************************

               Gary was surprised to see his new cell mate.  The guy was a lot smaller than he thought.  Thin, short, no tattoos.  He was nothing TV had told him to expect from prison life.  Still, he could not underestimate the man. 

               “Hey.” Said the man.  “Name’s Danny.”

               “Gary.  Nice to meet you.”

               “What are you in for?”

               “Nothing special.  Just a bit of burglary.  You?”

               Danny sighed heavily.  “I shouldn’t be in here, not really.  My crime wasn’t that bad.  I mean, nobody got hurt.  Well, nobody important anyway.”

               Gary blinked in surprise.  It sounded like he claimed he was innocent.  Kind of?  He did the crime, but it was nothing wrong, maybe.

               “So, what was it?” He asked again.

               “Nothing, really.  Hell, if anything, I made the world a better place.  I mean, come on, life sentence?  That’s bull.  They should’ve thrown me a parade is what they should’ve done.  Not a big one, of course, but still.”

               “So, what, assault and battery?” Gary tried.  But no, he said nobody had gotten hurt.  “Maybe burglary?”

               “Nah.  I cleaned up the world.”

               Gary thought about it for a moment.  “What, in the Boy Scout way, or the Sopranos way?”

               “Technically the second, but, really, the overall effect was closer to the first.”

               “Ah.  So, murder than.”

               “That’s what the courts called it.  I disagree, but whatever.”

               Gary was much more warry of the small man now.  A murderer was always a dangerous person, no matter what he looked like.  In fact, his size might make him more dangerous.  A large man you knew to be careful around.  But a small one could make you forget how dangerous he is. 

“Who, uh, who’d you kill, if you don’t mind my asking.”

“Bunch of corrupt, worthless, horrible politicians.  Seriously, guys were a waste of space and resources.  No merit to society at all.  They were leeches.  Parasites sucking away at us good, regular people and giving nothing back.  So yeah, by removing them, I did everyone a favor.  Sure, they may have been small time, but they were growing.  Pretty soon, they could’ve made it to the Senate or the House.  They could’ve done some real damage there.  I prevented that.  I saved us from their terrible policies, corrupt dealings and a whole mess of headache later on.  If anything, I’m a hero.”

“I guess the courts thought otherwise, huh?”

Danny sat on one of the thin beds and leaned against the cold stone wall.  “Bunch of short-sighted idiots.” He said.  “Everyone who knew those guys thought I did what had to be done.  But nope, apparently murdering corrupt politicians is just as bad as murdering anyone else.  So, what about you?  What’d you steal to get put in here?”

“Meh, nothing special.  A few paintings, some jewelry.  The usual, you know.  Hell, the people I stole from probably wouldn’t have noticed they were missing if they hadn’t come home at the worst possible time.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, well.  It was all just junk lying around their house anyway.  Didn’t seem like stuff that’d be worth $5 million when I grabbed them, that’s for sure.”

               ******************************************

I really shouldn't need to say this, but killing people and stealing things are bad.  Don't do it.  Just, you know, don't.

Word: Viridity

viridity

[ vuh-rid-i-tee ]

noun

greenness; verdancy; verdure.

youth; innocence; inexperience.

***************************************

               Col. Brander looked at the group of dozens of young men arrayed before him.  He let out a heavy sigh and looked at Reynolds, his Staff Sergeant.

               “They’re young.” He said.

               “Yes, sire, they are.”

               “They’re really young.”

               “I think the oldest is 19, sir.”

               “Have they seen any training?”

               “No, sir, they have not.”

               Col. Brander grumbled at that.  Of course the higher ups would send him fresh recruits.  Of course they would force him into a bad position.  It was like they wanted to see him fall. 

               “I asked for soldiers, not recruits.” He said.

               “Yes, sir, you did.  But this is what you got.  I’m fairly sure all the veterans and trained soldiers are already fighting on the front, sir.  So, this is what we get.”

                 The Colonel sighed again and rubbed his forehead. 

               “We don’t have enough time to train them.  Not properly, anyway.” He said.

               “I know, sir.  I know.  But, it’s what has to happen.”

               “Damn it.  Why would Command even think this was a good idea?  To send these boys here is suicide.  Hell, I bet most of them don’t even know what war is.”

               “Oh, I’m sure they know, sir.  At least, in a general sense.  It’s just that they’re full of stories about heroes and glory, and they think that’s what it’ll actually be like.”

               “That just makes it worse.  Most of them won’t survive.”

               “Isn’t that true for all soldiers, sir?”

               “You know what I mean.”

               “Sir, I think the best chance they have will be to get them ready.  At least, as much as possible.”

               Brander looked at the lesser officer.  The man had served him well for years, and was usually right about a lot of things.  This was no different.

               “Guess I’d better get started, then.”

               “Yes, sir.”

               Col. Brander dismissed the Staff Sergeant, ordering the man to see to housing and supplies.  Then he went to get the recruits started.  He would make sure they were as trained as they could be, and that meant doing it himself.

               He gave the order for them to form lines.  They were slow to react, their lines were unorganized, and none of them knew how to stand at attention.

               “I asked High Command for soldiers.  Reinforcements to help hold this fort from the enemy.  I look out at all of you and don’t see a single soldier.  All I see are boys that only just stopped clinging to their mother’s skirts.  Now, it’s not my job to see you properly trained.  That should be a drill sergeant.  But, I’m what you get.  And you will wish it wasn’t.

               “Let me tell you what’s going to happen over the next few months.  I’m going to push you.  I’m going to run you harder and longer than you ever have before.  By the end of the first week, you’ll beg me to go home.  By the end of the second, you’ll want to kill yourself, just for the chance to rest for more than a few hours.  By the end of the third week, you’ll pray for the enemy to come and kill you.  But, by the end of the fourth week, I might be willing to call you proper recruits.

               “Oh yes, recruits.  Not soldiers.  Not after one month.  And it’s then that the really tough training begins.  After two months, maybe some of you will be good enough to be called proper soldiers.  And after three, all of you will be.  These will be the most difficult months of your life to date.  If you don’t think you can handle it, get out of here and don’t let the door hit you on the way out.  I don’t want men who’ll quit halfway through.”

               He waited to see if any of them would leave.  To their credit, none did.  But, then again, he was out of practice.  He probably was not as intimidating as he used to be when he regularly trained new recruits. 

               “Good.  Now then, let’s get started.”

****************************************

I think I've mentioned this before, but I am not, nor ever have been, a soldier.  And I am very glad for that.  I'd be a terrible soldier.  I really would.  Bad eyesight, bad back.  Yeah, the army wouldn't want me even if I signed up.

Word: à gogo

à gogo

or à Go·go, à go-go

adverb

1. As much as you like; to your heart's content; galore: food and drink à gogo.

 

2. With go-go music and dancing or a go-go atmosphere (used especially in the names of cabarets, discotheques, and the like): They danced all night at the Mistral à gogo.

**********************************

               Disgusting.  All of them were disgusting.  Little better than pigs.  Oh, they were well groomed and to most, they looked grand.  But to Sen, they were disgusting.  They wrapped themselves in finery and luxury, but Sen could see them for what they were.

               Horrible people that indulged in excess.  They ate and drank all they liked, whenever they liked.  It was not just food, of course, but that was the worst offender.  They threw lavish parties that had more food in one room than most people could get in an entire year.  And they ate like they were starving, despite never knowing true hunger in their lives.

               And Sen could do nothing about it.  He was a mere servant.  A waiter who brought them more food and drink.  He wished he could do something.  Wished he could take their overabundance of luxuries from them.  He wanted to believe he would distribute them to those who could really appreciate such things, but he was not sure if he was that selfless.  All he knew was how much he would hurt these pigs in human skins.

               “You, servant!”  One of them called at Sen.  He was a particularly portly lord with food sticking to an otherwise neatly trimmed mustache.  He fine silks and stains were stained from his feast, but nobody cared.  Half of them wore their food just as much as ate it.  “More wine!” The lord called.

               Sen smiled and bowed.  He said nothing.  He was not supposed to say something.  He merely went into the kitchen and came back with yet another glass of wine that cost more than he made in a year.

               The lord did not care.  He simply grabbed it, laughing at some young lady who clung to him in the hopes of getting into his wallet.  The lord gulped down the drink without a care as to its cost.  Sen clenched his fist for just a moment.  The lord finished and set the empty cup on the tray Sen carried.

               The servant left the lord to try and woo the girl, and the girl to take the man for all he was worth.  He could respect that, even if he found the method a bit distasteful.  As he got out of the way for the increasingly inebriated nobles, a man approached him. 

               “I saw that.” The man said.

               “Saw what, m’lord?” Sen asked.

               “Your anger.  You hate these people, don’t you?”

               Sen startled.  He had no idea anyone was paying that much attention to him.  What should he do?  Best to just deny it.  As much as he did hate these sad excuses for people, they could still have him killed on a whim.  And he did need the pay that came from his position.

               “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sen said.

               “Don’t try to hide it.  I saw.  You hate what you see.  You wish to be rid of these people.  I can make this happen.  I can give you the means to rid the world of these…people.  If you’re interested, stay by the servant’s entrance tonight.  I’ll come and show you how you can cleanse the world of filth.”

               And with that, the man left.  Sen was shaking.  A slight, subtle tremble through his entire body.  He was suddenly very interested in taking a late night walk.

***********************************

 Oh dear.  Things might not end well for someone.  I wonder who...