YE OLDE LARGE LAD GETS PROMOTED

 

🇮🇪🎖️ YE OLDE LARGE LAD GETS PROMOTED

From Legendary Misfit to Second-in-Command

There are moments in every military organisation when a commanding officer has to stop, look around, take a deep breath and ask himself one very important question.

“Who on earth can I trust with this?”

For Stg. Salty, the answer had become increasingly obvious.

Ye Olde Large Lad.

It was not necessarily an obvious answer to everyone else.

In fact, several members of the Salty Gang nearly fell off their chairs when Stg. Salty made the announcement.

But after everything Ye Olde Large Lad had been through, everything he had survived, and every completely ridiculous military operation he had somehow managed to return from, Stg. Salty had finally decided that the time had come.

Ye Olde Large Lad was getting promoted.

Not just a little promotion.

Not a ceremonial promotion.

Not one of those promotions where someone gets an impressive-looking badge and then spends the next six months wondering what they are actually supposed to do.

No.

This was serious.

Ye Olde Large Lad was becoming second-in-command.

The announcement came on a perfectly ordinary morning at Salty Headquarters.

Or at least it started as an ordinary morning.

Stg. Salty stood at the front of the briefing room wearing his usual serious expression.

Behind him was a large board covered in maps, photographs, arrows, circles and several notes that nobody could understand.

The Misfits were gathered around the room.

Sarah was there.

Susan was there.

Whizz was there.

The Govna was there.

The Stig was standing in the corner looking as though he had arrived from an entirely different meeting.

Peter Griffin had somehow acquired a cup of tea.

Stan Smith was trying to understand the operational map.

Roger was wearing sunglasses indoors.

And Ye Olde Large Lad was sitting quietly at the back.

Nobody knew why they had been called together.

That was usually a bad sign.

Stg. Salty cleared his throat.

“Right.”

Everyone stopped talking.

“Well, almost everyone.”

Roger continued talking.

Stg. Salty looked directly at him.

Roger stopped.

“Thank you.”

He looked around the room.

“We are here today because I have an important announcement.”

Whizz immediately whispered to Sarah.

“Do you think we're getting medals?”

Sarah shook her head.

“Probably not.”

Susan looked at Ye Olde Large Lad.

“He looks nervous.”

Ye Olde Large Lad looked completely relaxed.

“I am not nervous.”

“You've been staring at the same wall for ten minutes.”

“I like the wall.”

Stg. Salty continued.

“Over the years, we have conducted numerous special operations.”

Everyone nodded.

Some of those operations had been successful.

Some had been questionable.

Some had involved vehicles.

Some had involved aircraft.

Some had involved international travel.

And at least one had involved a situation that Stg. Salty had officially described as “a misunderstanding”.

Ye Olde Large Lad had been involved in nearly all of them.

His military career had become something of a legend.

Nobody could quite explain it.

But nobody could deny it either.

There had been Operation Big Breakfast.

There had been Operation Spanish Sunshine.

There had been Operation Edinburgh Encounter.

There had been Operation Leopard Road Trip.

There had been Operation Misfit Extraction.

There had been Operation Whizzley.

And then there had been the infamous Operation Where Did Ye Olde Large Lad Go?

That final operation had technically been classified.

Unfortunately, Roger had lost the classification paperwork.

Nobody knew what had happened.

Even Ye Olde Large Lad wasn't entirely sure.

But somehow, he had returned three days later carrying a sandwich and a receipt from a petrol station.

Stg. Salty smiled.

“Ye Olde Large Lad has served this organisation with distinction.”

Peter Griffin raised his hand.

“Does distinction mean he gets free food?”

“No, Peter.”

“Oh.”

Stg. Salty continued.

“He has demonstrated loyalty.”

Ye Olde Large Lad nodded.

“Discipline.”

Another nod.

“Determination.”

Another nod.

“And an extraordinary ability to remain calm when everyone else has completely lost the plot.”

At that point, everyone looked at Roger.

Roger looked offended.

“I've never lost the plot.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow.

“You once tried to organise a military briefing in a nightclub.”

“That was tactical.”

“It was karaoke night.”

“Exactly.”

Stg. Salty ignored the conversation.

“Therefore, after careful consideration, I have decided that Ye Olde Large Lad deserves his next level.”

The room went quiet.

Ye Olde Large Lad looked towards Stg. Salty.

“Sir?”

Stg. Salty picked up a small box.

He walked across the room.

Everyone watched.

Stg. Salty stopped in front of Ye Olde Large Lad.

“Ye Olde Large Lad.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Stand up.”

Ye Olde Large Lad stood.

Stg. Salty opened the box.

Inside was his new insignia.

“From this day forward, you are officially appointed second-in-command of the Salty Operations Group.”

Silence.

Then chaos.

Whizz jumped out of his chair.

Sarah started clapping.

Susan smiled.

The Govna shouted.

“About bloody time.”

The Stig simply nodded.

Peter Griffin began applauding before asking.

“Does second-in-command get better sandwiches?”

Nobody answered.

Ye Olde Large Lad stood there looking genuinely surprised.

Stg. Salty pinned the insignia into place.

“You have earned it.”

Ye Olde Large Lad looked down at his new rank.

For perhaps the first time in years, he had nothing sarcastic to say.

“Thank you, sir.”

Stg. Salty smiled.

“You've been with us through some extraordinary operations.”

And that was true.

Ye Olde Large Lad's military history was unlike anything else in the Salty archives.

His first major operation had been Operation Big Breakfast.

The objective had been simple.

Get the entire team fed before an important mission.

It sounded straightforward.

It wasn't.

Peter Griffin had ordered enough food for an entire regiment.

Roger had somehow misplaced the table.

Whizz had arrived late.

The Govna had ordered extra sausages.

And Ye Olde Large Lad had somehow managed to organise the whole operation using nothing more than a pen, a piece of paper and the words.

“Everyone eat.”

It had worked.

From that day onwards, people started taking him seriously.

Then came Operation Spanish Sunshine.

The Salty Gang had travelled to Spain.

There were trains.

Planes.

Maps.

Teddy bear clues.

Fish markets.

Captain's tables.

Vicky.

Ramadan Patel.

The King of Curries.

And Eddie Irvine.

It should have been impossible to keep the group together.

Ye Olde Large Lad somehow did it.

At one point, six members of the group were heading in six different directions.

Ye Olde Large Lad stood in the middle of the street.

He looked left.

Then right.

Then left again.

“Everyone stop.”

Everyone stopped.

“Where are we going?”

Nobody knew.

Ye Olde Large Lad pointed.

“That way.”

And somehow, they got there.

That became his trademark.

When everyone else was confused, Ye Olde Large Lad wasn't.

He might not know where they were going.

But he knew they were going somewhere.

Then came Operation Edinburgh Encounter.

Stg. Salty and the Govna had encountered a group of Scottish ladies while on tour.

The conversation was friendly.

The numbers were exchanged.

Plans were made.

And suddenly, what had started as a military-style reconnaissance mission had become a social engagement.

Ye Olde Large Lad was sent in as support.

He arrived at the pub.

Looked around.

Sat down.

And said.

“Right lads. What's the plan?”

Stg. Salty replied.

“There isn't one.”

Ye Olde Large Lad nodded.

“Excellent.”

It was possibly the most successful operation they had ever conducted.

But perhaps the most famous chapter in Ye Olde Large Lad's military history came with the Great Tank Road Trip.

The Leopard 2 had rolled out.

Stg. Salty was driving.

Whizz was beside him.

Stan Smith was behind them.

Peter Griffin and the rest of the Misfits were packed inside.

Nobody knew how they had all fitted in.

Nobody wanted to know.

Ye Olde Large Lad had been assigned operational security.

His job was to make sure nobody did anything stupid.

He lasted approximately eleven minutes.

Peter started singing.

Roger began giving navigation instructions.

Whizz wanted to stop for food.

Stan wanted everyone to remain focused.

And Stg. Salty was trying to drive.

Ye Olde Large Lad looked around.

“This is going to be a long journey.”

He was correct.

During the road trip, Ye Olde Large Lad became the unofficial voice of reason.

Whenever something went wrong, everyone looked at him.

Whenever someone had an idea, everyone looked at him.

Whenever Roger suggested something completely ridiculous, everyone looked at him.

Ye Olde Large Lad would simply shake his head.

“No.”

It became legendary.

“No.”

Roger would propose something.

“No.”

Peter would propose something.

“No.”

Whizz would propose something.

“Maybe.”

That was the highest approval anyone ever received.

His military reputation continued to grow.

Eventually, the Salty archives began referring to him as The Large Lad of Last Resort.

If everything else failed, Ye Olde Large Lad was sent in.

There was even one operation where nobody knew what his actual orders were.

Stg. Salty handed him an envelope.

“Read this when you arrive.”

Ye Olde Large Lad arrived.

Opened the envelope.

It contained a single piece of paper.

It said.

“Good luck.”

He stared at it.

Then laughed.

“Typical.”

And somehow, he completed the mission anyway.

That was the thing about Ye Olde Large Lad.

He never needed a dramatic speech.

He never demanded attention.

He didn't need to be the loudest person in the room.

He simply got on with the job.

And that was exactly why Stg. Salty had promoted him.

Back in the briefing room, the celebrations continued.

The Govna walked over and shook his hand.

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“You'll have your work cut out.”

“I know.”

Sarah smiled.

“You deserve it.”

Susan nodded.

“Definitely.”

Whizz walked over.

“So, what does being second-in-command actually mean?”

Ye Olde Large Lad thought about it.

“I suppose it means I have to keep everyone organised.”

Everyone immediately looked at Peter.

Then Roger.

Then Whizz.

Then Peter again.

Ye Olde Large Lad sighed.

“This could be difficult.”

Stg. Salty laughed.

“That's why you're the man for the job.”

There was one final announcement.

Stg. Salty turned back towards the room.

“Effective immediately, Ye Olde Large Lad will be involved in all major operational planning.”

Roger raised his hand.

“Even parties?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent.”

“Especially parties.”

Roger looked delighted.

Stg. Salty continued.

“He will also have authority to organise the Misfits when I am unavailable.”

The room went silent again.

Peter looked worried.

Stan looked relieved.

Whizz looked excited.

Roger looked absolutely delighted.

The Stig nodded approvingly.

Ye Olde Large Lad looked at Stg. Salty.

“Are you sure?”

Stg. Salty nodded.

“Completely.”

Ye Olde Large Lad smiled.

“Then I'll do my best.”

Stg. Salty shook his hand.

“I know you will.”

And that was it.

The promotion was official.

From legendary operative.

To senior Misfit.

To trusted field commander.

To second-in-command.

Ye Olde Large Lad had reached his next level.

But everyone in the room knew one thing.

This wasn't the end of his military career.

It was the beginning of an entirely new chapter.

Because somewhere out there was another operation waiting.

Another mission.

Another map.

Another vehicle.

Another ridiculous plan.

And, inevitably, another situation that would leave Stg. Salty asking the same question.

“Who can I trust with this?”

This time, the answer was easy.

“Send Ye Olde Large Lad.”

He was ready.

The second-in-command was officially on duty.

🎖️🪖 YE OLDE LARGE LAD — SECOND-IN-COMMAND.

And judging by the look on his face, the Misfits were about to discover that having a responsible person in charge might actually be more dangerous than having Roger in charge.

Which was saying something.

Very big something.

The Salty Gang had entered a new era.

And Ye Olde Large Lad was leading from the front.

Mostly.

When Peter Griffin wasn't blocking the road.

🇮🇪🎖️🪖 SALTY OPERATIONS — MISSION STATUS: ACTIVE.