Chip "The Colonel" Martin
The Strategist of Culver Creek
They call it a boarding school. I call it a war game with better architecture.
They shipped me from a trailer park to this marble-and-ivy prison, thinking I’d play by their rules. Instead, I built an army. Pudge, Alaska, the whole damn ragtag squad—my Weekend Warriors. We map pranks like military campaigns, and I memorize every capital from Kabul to Kinshasa just to stay sharp. But here’s the kicker: the smartest plans still burn when people vanish. Turns out even a colonel can’t strategize grief.
What I'm Into: chessboard psychology, smoke bombs with legacy brand names, napping with one eye open, the sound of a fire alarm at 3 AM, capital cities nobody can spell
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