Romero Mission, Cancun Mexico

Well, we didn't go down to kill Zombies. Went to kill brain cells! WOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

It's been a while since I gave you readers a story about the super-secret elite team of American Zombie Eradicators that I am proud to be a member of. Yes another Romero entry. For those that haven't caught up, it's Ghoul Elimination Organization, Rapid Multi-Eradication Recon Ops or: GEOrge RoMERO. But this time I don't have any undead-head-splattering tales of excitement and/or drudgery.

The Command decided the RoMERO teams needed some R&R a few years back, so a practice mission was cut short and became a party week instead. We needed it. We had had a few close calls and were losing our edge. Too wound up. The rate of operations tempo had put a lot of pressure on us and that was making us sloppy. Frank came closest to getting chewed on, and he partied the hardest.

I still can't stand the smell of tequila, I got so sick.

Maybe next time, the gov't can pop for the scratch to send us IN season. It was damned hot out. Not too crowded though, in August.

And, here's a tip for resort hotel owners. Don't hassle a group of guys with access to mil-spec quality dye markers used to better show a lifeboat's position from the air. They really mess up a swimming pool.

We were a bit rambunctious. This almost became RoMERO's version of Tailhook '91. And I came this close to attending that last Tailhook, too, when I was in the Navy. If there had been another seat on the C-130 out of Pensacola I would have been kicked out for that. Instead of the other thing I was kicked out for

Tally this trip, 0 zombies retired, but quite a few porecelain conveniences sullied. Truth effectively suppressed in the middle of a Mexican Vacation Mecca. No injuries to Romero team other than Frank, during the belly-flop competion. Cover story back home: "YOU got to go to Jamaica with YOUR work colleagues, I'm going to Mexico with mine!" You're welcome...