Tim began, “Isn’t that the Construction workers’ job?” Tom elbowed him in the side.

“Looks like we’re starting with that,” said Zaphod.

********************

The next day at 11:30 at night, the building was finally done. Let the training begin.

It’s not very difficult training because they’re not official Military grade warriors. In fact, the training lasted half an hour, and Kenny was already better than half of the rest of the guys. Which really wasn’t saying much, considering Tim missed the Police station 3 times before Zaphod finally took matters into his own hands.

The training consisted of basically running around town secretly so nobody could spot them, getting the hang of the jetpack, and using the cloak effectively. After the half hour, they returned to “base” to refuel the jetpacks and recharge the cloaking devices. Once the jetpacks were refueled and the cloaking devices charging, Zaphod called a meeting.

“Guys,” he said. “Tonight, I noticed something very unusual for a city like this.”

“What was it?” asked Private.

“There are plenty of other cities I’d expect this out of, but not here.”

“What did you notice?”

“But here, it’s very unusual. Never would’ve guessed it to happen here—”

Private lost his patience. “What did you notice!?!” 

“Oh, right, sorry,” Zaphod said. “I noticed a large number of people with various weaponry, all in one uniform, occasionally some people in a different uniform with bigger, badder guns would attack them and usually win. I think it was a couple skirmishes I saw of the Bodükognerschiten.”

“You mean that crap is real?” blurted iFondle.

“Yeah, I wasn’t joking when I said we’d need that information at some point,” said Zaphod.

“And how did you know about it?”

Zaphod hesitated, sighed, then said reluctantly “I used to be a Glacker.”

Everyone was stunned. Kenny was, yet again, confused. “What are you guys talking about?” 

Zaphod let him in on the whole Bodükognerschiten vocabulary that iFondle never paid attention to.

Kenny finally understood. He said quietly “You used to be a Glacker?”

“Yes,” said Zaphod. “Yes I was. But one day, when we were out gunging, we were getting some good profit from some of the muggers on the streets, but also some average civilians. But then, a Frack found us, and they attacked us. We fought back, and they took some devastating damage. Our Glack was winning, but they had called the police on sight. They were no problem for us. But soon, more and more Fracks were joining the fight, and we had no contact with any other Glacks for assistance. We were losing numbers, fast. We soon realized that all the Fracks were coming from the same place, so we were nearby their secret base.