Not Fonda

"Bullshit," the Whizzer said in reflex. Then he thought it over. "That's right, bullshit," he maintained. "We're soldiers and we're here by choice. You signed up to defend the national interest. You took that oath just like the rest of us. So now you gotta put your ass on the line — or being as you're just a mail sorter, let's say your fingers, toes, and lower back."

Dexter considered. "Maybe. But maybe I don't gotta like it."

The Whizzer snorted. "Guess you didn't see the Norminator's latest Morale Directive. But what is this shit, Dextrose, some kind of Jane Fonda stop-the-war rag? Are you in this thing or not?"

"Wait a minute. Let me explain."

The Whizzer flipped his hood back up.