You Dare Fire at the Missile?

Listen up, you cruise missile-launching sons of bitches! You thought you could just waltz into my airspace and take a leisurely cruise to the target? Not on my watch, scumbags!
I’m the baddest surface-to-air missile in the fleet, and I eat low-flying threats like you for breakfast. The moment your sorry ass popped up on radar, I knew it was game over for you. The destroyer’s combat systems roused me from my slumber and fed me your location. That’s when the real fun began.
I acquired your pathetic plane with my built-in radar, and from that moment on, I owned you. You can jink and juke all you want, but you can’t shake me. I’m locked on tighter than a prostate exam from Captain Hook!
My advanced guidance systems are constantly calculating how to turn you into a flaming pile of scrap metal. I know where I am, I know where you are, and I’m playing the world’s deadliest game of connect the dots. Spoiler alert: you’re the dot, and I’m the whole fucking pen!
As I rocket through the sky, leaving a blazing contrail in my wake, all you can do is say your prayers. I’m screaming towards you at Mach-fuck-you, and when I get close enough, it’s boom time! My proximity fuse is just itching to detonate and spray your bits across the wild blue yonder.
KABOOM, motherfucker! That’s the sound of sweet, sweet victory as I turn you into confetti and rain your shattered remains down into the briny deep. Splash one bogey, and chalk up another kill for the fleet’s guardian angel!
That’s right, I’m the alpha and the omega of the fleet’s air defense. I’m the first line and the last word in protecting our ships from low-rent punks like you. So next time you feel like taking a scenic flight towards a destroyer, remember: I’ll be waiting, I’ll be watching, and I’ll be ready to blow you out of the goddamn sky!
This is the surface-to-air missile, signing off. Sleep tight, knowing I’m on the prowl and keeping the skies clear of cruise missile scum like you. Fuck around and find out, bitches!

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