Hitler is a queer, Capt. Jones said.

Lt. Smith stopped guzzling his beer in mid-gulp.

Our Hitler?

No, dummkopf, I’m talking about the ex-Amazon driver with the little moustache.

Oh, you mean Buck. He shaved off that caterpillar under his nose.

Yeah, but he was mocking Der Fuhrer when he was prancing around wearing it.

Our Fuhrer?

Jawohl.

So he wasn’t serious when he was snapping to attention with the Sieg Heil salute?  

More making fun of Der Fuhrer and us.

I saw him goose-bumping on the dance floor at Big Bob’s Booze and Burgers’ grand opening the other night, Lt. Smith said.

You mean goose-stepping, Capt. Jones said.

Yeah, doing the goose-step to the disco music he was playing.

Disco is another tip-off.

To what?

That he’s a queer.

I should have paid closer attention to the sissy signs, Lt. Smith said.

Capt. Jones swallowed the last three gulps of his German pilsner and opened another.

The Reverend told me JayJay Bone and Buck are trying to blackmail him into marrying them at our rally, embarrassing the Lord’s work and our plans for the race war we’ve been looking forward to starting, he said.

Lt. Smith fumed.

What would Goring do?

We’re going to pay our pansy a visit you and me are, Capt. Jones said. Tell him we’re doing a background investigation for the rally to make sure our top security people have the right genes for clearance. See if he breaks down and admits he’s a fairy.

Lt. Smith’s eyes widened.

Like Tinkerbell?

Before Capt. Jones could answer, Lt. Smith ran to the corner where a Tinkerbell toy lay crumpled in the corner where his German Shephard left it after chewing through the figure’s throat earlier in the day. Picking up the Disney doggie doll, Lt. Smith raced to the oven.

This is what we do to fairies, he said.

Turning up the temperature, he opened the oven door and tossed in the soft tiny creature. It didn’t take long for the stuffing to start smoking and eventually burst into flames that Lt. Smith doused by throwing beer on the flaming pixie. Running to the CD player he turned up the volume to “The Third Reich’s Most Beloved Marching Songs,” by the Kristallnacht Oompa Band. He and Capt. Jones goose-stepped around the kitchen, swigging beer, firing off the Sieg Heil salute and throwing around the few German phrases they were trying to memorize off the internet.

Sprechen Sie Deutsch?

Guten tag.

Wiener schnitzel

Capt. Jones stiffened.

Hey, watch your mouth, he said. Buck’s wiener schnitzel is what’s started all these problems in the first place.

That fruit loop JayJay had me fooled, too, Lt. Smith said.

We’ll take care of him later, Capt. Jones said.

Looks like it’s time to slice the bratwurst, Lt. Smith said.

Both men saluted.