Humbug
By Vega

The pentagon. A military instilation like no other, here a man can find a variety of the weapons of war. Be it man, be it machine, every single entity within these walls are meant to kill ... efficiently. Though a household word, many people dont like to think about it. A branch of the United States government dedicated to destruction. This is a place that can create or destroy countries, with policies of mutual assured destruction. Men who work here are simply the best, and amoung them is the best of the best. Many of Guile's 'aquaintances' believe him to be everything America should be. A Strong, courageous, bold, brave, honorable, and hardworking man. Many of Guile's 'aquaintances' believe him to be everything thats wrong with America. An impatient, impetious, arrogant, caffeen addicted authoritarian.

"f--- them ..." he thought.

Guile didn't care what his 'aquaintances' thought of him. He barely cared what his wife thought of him anymore.

Guile looked about the streets as he left the Pentagon, it was mid December and he hated this time of the year. It all seemed so fake to him ... all of this "Peace on Earth and Good Will toward Men" garbage. No, not when good, honest people were dying in the name of their country. Not when wars were being fought and little children ripped apart by the bullets of bigots. Guile had lost his faith in man shortly after losing faith in god. Charlie was a man who had died in the name of his country and god. A good man who liked baseball and apple pie, christmas and independance day. Guile lost his faith and soul ten years ago when Bison had him killed.

The brush haired individual slowly made his way down the street to his appartment. Snow gently drifted to the ground as little children ran about with their snowballs. Members of the Salvation Army dressed like Santa, stood by shops and corners ringing their little bells as passers-by dropped loose change into their kettles. The scene was picture perfect, and only seemed to worsen Guile's mood.

Guile hated Christmas. It was as simple as that. He had no reason to celebrate, and no one to celebrate with. Guile no longer kept close friends, he feared that he would lose them. Guile couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd seen his wife and daughter, but he knew that he should attempt to contact them soon, if only for his daughter's sake.

Opening the door to his appartment building Guile entered with a gust of cold air and snow. After retrieving his mail and ignoring the other tennants, he climbed the two stories to his flat. No sooner had he located his key then the door slowly creaked open an inch. Guile froze.

"Assassins? Terrorists? Kidnappers?"

the thoughts raced through his mind as he forced his body back against the wall. A hand moved down to his boot to retrieve a hidden hand gun. Slowly a hand moved to the door knob and pushed the door open. With a sudden pivot, Guile moved to the doorway, run raised and aimed head level.

"Daddy!"

Before Guile could put two and two together he was tackled by his twelve year old daughter. Guile's wife then emerged from the kitchen with a smile.

"Hello Dear"

"Chris? Jane?"

Guile lowered the gun slowly.

"What are you two doing here?"

With a smile, Guile's wife replied "Hun, I know that you're a busy man, but we love you. We're here for Christmas, maybe we'll get you to lighten up a bit?"