Dear Fort Lewis,

I have put up with your strange little machines flying over my house for quite some time.  Your odd little helicopters that don’t look like helicopters aren’t fooling anyone.  If you want me to believe it is not a helicopter, then you should make it not sound like a helicopter.  And the little things that fly over the house that I can’t see….well if I can hear them then they aren’t all that "stealth" afterall now are they?  Think about it.

For eighteen months I have listened to your bizarre little mechanical wonders and witnessed your freaky little machines flying over at all hours of the night.  I was a good little citizen.  I behaved and I didn’t complain.  I now have one request.  Quit it. 

Since you appear to be a bit confused, let me enlighten you on a few things.

1. This is not Iraq.  This is Enumclaw.

2. I would be willing to bet you any amount that Osama is not living in the Cascade mountains.

3. If y’all can’t find D. B. Cooper in the Cascades, why do you think you’re gonna find some Al Qaeda training camp in  there in the middle of the night?  You’re not. Go home.  Go to bed.

4.  If I, with my less than stellar hearing, know you are up there then so does every little terrorist cell on this planet.  Just a tip… Y’all. Are. Loud.

5. If Georgie has a problem with me sending you home, tell him to call me.  I’m mean, I’m southern and I’m sick of listening to y’all flying over my house all night long.

Go Home!!!!

Sincerely,
The Very Patriotic Knitting Wannabe