The Cinnamon Bun

Back in '06 there was a bridge in our Company sector that we had to man a checkpoint at daily, a job that was rotated between our Infantry Squads. One of the squads would send a guy to the Cinnabon at the food court on Camp Taji in the morning while the rest of the guys got the trucks and weapons ready to go, he would pick up cinnamon buns for everyone and they would eat breakfast at the checkpoint. Everyone in the squad would pitch in except for Specialist "B" (I won't name him to protect his dignity), he always had an excuse as to why he couldn't chip in. One morning when they handed out the cinnamon buns, there wasn't one for Specialist "B", the consensus was, you don't pay, you don't eat. He moped about and acted butt hurt about the way that he was being treated and he kept complaining all morning about not getting a cinnamon bun. After listening to him piss and moan for about an hour, the other guys gathered at his truck handed him a cinnabon box and told him that they had just been messing with him. Specialist "B" grabbed the box with glee, held it up to his nose and took a big whiff as he opened it, and immediately started gagging in disgust and horror, for in the box was not a nice warm cinnamon roll, but a fresh steaming turd that Specialist "N" had just squeezed out. I guess the lesson is, you get what you pay for.