Wow, what a coincidence. This caused me to have a flashback to my days serving aboard the USS Futility of First Post. Yeah, it was a long time ago, but it's directly relevant to the FML, trust me on this. So there we were, en route to the Gulf of Aden on anti-piracy duty. The men were restless. I didn't know why at the time, just wrote it off as nerves. I mean, it was our maiden voyage, the men were bound to be on edge. My second-in-command, Nick "The Cunter" Rock, was on the bridge, flossing his nipples. The man had his faults, but one thing you couldn't accuse him of was having unkempt areolae. Those nipples had won more naval battles than I could recall, and I sure as hell wasn't going to judge my XO for being a stickler for personal hygiene. But that's a story for another day.
It was all going smoothly. The crews of the pirate vessels were struck dead by the radiant shine of the sun reflecting off my shaven head, leaving nothing but a trail of ghost ships in our wake. Then IT came. We didn't stand a chance, it was all over before it even began, some dipshit had brought an undomesticated Perdix on board, and before anyone could unholster their sidearm, the creature had raped out half the crew. Even Big Nick's razor-sharp nipples couldn't hold out. It was only by the most staggering luck that just as my turn came, I was abducted by a UFO. I know what you're thinking: anal probing. No, people, no. It was a fate even worse than anal probing or indeed death.
Gonna put it bluntly, people, because this is no laughing matter, no reason to beat around the bush. They forced me to listen to Justin Bieber's My World 2.0 album. Christ, it hurts just to think about it, but the world needs to know. Long story short, I woke up in a corn field in Texas, naked, ears bleeding, and with no reproductive organs left to speak of. They branded me a coward, said I'd deserted the ship. Bastards. They had to blame someone, and I guess it fell on me, being the captain. The price of serving your country. I only wish I could go back in time and take that wild Perdix on hand-to-hand like a man, but I sold my coked-up Delorean to cover my counselling fees. This is why I say this isn't an FML, cause I've had it so much worse. Wee-woo.