Catch-23:

-- Research: how does using nukes in Japan in 1945 square with the Geneva Conventions?

-- Maybe Hardwick picks the 2MO AFSC specifically because he’s a pacifist and is confident the US will never use the weapons he works on and feels better knowing he’s keeping an eye on them. His moral dilemma occurs when the nuclear ALCM missiles are converted to conventional CALCM missiles and used in Operation Desert Fox.

-- Maybe one of the selling points he tries to make to the Aryan Nations is that the nuke’s EMP could be used to cause widespread havoc without directly killing anyone.

-- Maybe at the height of the workplace tension when everybody’s hair’s on fire getting ready for the NSA and the Scheduling Office is trying to increase their maintenance numbers and Kleinenstein has decertified the entire Low Bay is when the Pentagon releases the workplace satisfaction survey. The survey is mandatory but anonymous and is 45 pages that ask a lot of the same questions, just worded slightly differently. The schedulers are panicked because the whole shop will be working on the survey for possibly hours, reducing their throughput. The QA group expects everyone to follow the orders from HHQ. A1C Hardwick, realizing that the survey is a complete waste of time and no one can be identified through their answers, tells all of his coworkers (loud enough for the whole shop to hear) that everyone should just Christmas Tree their answers. Kleinenstein and/or Voss will realize that they are powerless to stop them. (Maybe Meecham says something like: “What better way to get our honest feedback than with a mandatory survey?”

-- Amn O’Nan looked like Bruce Campbell in his pre-chainsaw-hand days. He existed in a perpetual state of barely contained, stressed out exasperation, as if he was always late for work and stuck in traffic. Zombie traffic.

-- Amn Bork looked like Jay Leno ate another Jay Leno.

-- The conversation that culminated with the description of Matt severing his own femoral arteries then milking the blood out of them to make himself die faster if an ugly woman approached him at a party. (Figure out how to recreate the meandering of the conversation that included the matador who bled out from a gouged femoral artery faster than paramedics could cross the area to help him, women who are ‘coyote ugly’, the ‘ugly-stick, ugly-tree, ugly-forest’ progression of unattractive women, and Hardwick’s dad’s corollary that ‘some women are more attractive than others’.) (Re-watch “Pulp Fiction”?)

-- Make sure to sprinkle plenty of instances of ‘Lightning within 5’ to demonstrate the constant tug-o-war the airmen are in with getting as many missiles cycled through their maintenance schedules as possible and following the strict rules of QA and safety.

-- Bork should sing alternative lyrics to Smashmouth’s All Star: “Hey now, you’re a porn star, get your groove on, get laid.”

“Mmm...Pocahontas,” Bork said, to himself (and, of course, anyone within earshot). “I’d like to paint with all the colors of her wind.”

McAllister nearly dropped his wrench. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“You mean you want to paint...with her farts?” asked Slagle.

“Tip of the spear, ladies and gentlemen, tip of the spear,” said Meecham.

“Hehe,” said Bork, “you said, ‘Tip.’”