BATTLE OF THE METAPHORS
 
 It's 1944, the Battle of the Bulge in Europe. An American squad has been cut
 off behind enemy lines. They're surrounded. As night falls, a new recruit
 finds the sergeant who's acting commander. "Sarge," he says, "I don't know how
 it happened, but in the fighting today, I lost my rifle. What do I do?"
 
 The sergeant favors him with a few comments not fit for a polite mailing list,
 then he looks around and finds an old broomstick.
 
 "OK," he says, "any German soldier who sticks his head up, you point this at
 him and go 'bangity-bangity.'"
 
 "That won't work!" replies the private, but the sergeant tells him to just do
 it.
 
 The private says, "Yeah, but what if we get to hand-to-hand combat?"
 
 The sergeant looks around and finds a butter knife, and ties it to the end of
 the broomstick. He says, "If the Germans come in close, you go 'stabity-
 stabity' with this."
 
 At sunrise the Germans attack in hordes. There's shouting and screaming and
 shooting and dying going on all around. In the middle of this chaos, the
 private stands up and starts going "bangity- bangity." And it seems to be
 having some effect! So he goes "bangity-bangity," "bangity-bangity," "bangity-
 bangity-bangity."
 
 Well, he's just murdering the Germans. He's mowing them down with that
 broomstick, but still they keep coming. He goes "stabity-stabity" at the ones
 who get close, and they start bleeding and dying all around.
 
 Pretty soon, he's the only American left alive. There are piles of dead bodies
 all around him. He shoots the last few Germans with his broomstick, and an
 unearthly quiet settles on the battlefield.
 
 Then he notices this one lone German soldier off in the distance coming toward
 him. The German isn't shooting at the American, just sort of shuffling along
 straight for him.
 
 The American private lets him get within easy broomstick range, then he goes
 "bangity-bangity."

 No effect.
 
 "Bangity-bangity."
 
 Nothing.
 
 The German's still not shooting; he's sort of mumbling to himself, still
 coming. When he gets close, the American goes "stabity-stabity," but that
 doesn't work, either.
 
 The German walks right up to the American, pushes him over, walks on top of
 him and keeps going. That little ol' German crushes the hell out of the
 American just by stepping on him.
 
 And as he's lying there, the life draining from his body, he can hear the
 German heading away, mumbling "tankity-tankity."