I've got a job for you, Skippy

My black-garbed minions will have a PsyCorp, and Skippy will be their commander. I've always admired his Catch-22-like sense of right and wrong, and ability to extract necessary humor from the military experience.

How can I not like someone who has had to be given rules such as:

100. Claymore mines are not filled with yummy candy, and it is wrong to tell new soldiers that they are.

114. I cannot trade my CO to the Russians.

200. My chain of command is not interested in why I “just happen” to have a kilt, an inflatable sheep, and a box of rubber bands in the back of my car.

Skippy, give me a call after I take over. I've got a job for you.