While simultaneously he shits on that one boat with an unreasonable duration at sea, he steals the glory of an actual solier, and still finds a way to stroke his own ego while he’s at it. Not to mention the cost at tax payers expense of whatever bureaucratic ripples this sends out.

He’s going to die. They’re going to uncover truly horrific things of unprecedented scope, and then to save face they’re going to paint him as some sort of mastermind. I’m going to have to grow old and die myself as they contort Turnip’s career as some sort of Machiavellian genius, when in fact he has all the nuances of a screeching adolescentwith a negative kill ratio on counter strike. They will build the myth to preserve the institution, but I’ll never forget how brazen and clumsy he was or how complicit are the people warming themselves on the flaming wreckage he leaves in his wake.