Major General Dennis Hastert

Callsign: "The Gavel"

The rotund architect of compromised morality, Hastert wears the uniform of rank not from valor but from leverage. As Speaker of the House, he wielded silence like a scimitar, cutting deals behind closed doors while preserving a public image of avuncular Midwestern blandness. Now, as Major General of the Republican Guard, he specializes in supply chain disruption. ensuring no soldier leaves without debts, and no war ends without disgrace.

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Commander Dan Crenshaw

Callsign: "Snake Apostle"

Clad in black tactical gear and a trademark eyepatch that conceals not just an injury but a doctrine, Commander Crenshaw serves as the Republican Guard’s master of covert prolongation. Officially a hero of the American war effort, Crenshaw's true role was far more serpentine: to ensure that the war could never, ever end.

Operating in the shadows under the codename "Snake Apostle," Crenshaw inserted himself into high-value raids and intelligence operations only to reroute objectives, misidentify targets, and subtly sabotage stabilization efforts. When Iraqi officers cooperated too effectively with U.S. forces, Snake Apostle would leak their positions to insurgent cells, later appearing on American television to praise the valor of endless vigilance.

His specialty: simulated success, manufacturing battles that could be won but not concluded, headlines that sounded like triumph but masked inertia. He was known to leave behind crates of small arms in insurgent-controlled neighborhoods "by accident," thereby fueling new conflict cycles. Yet he remained untouchable, shielded by his personal mythology as a wounded warrior and his talent for TED Talk patriotism.

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Field Operative Marco Rubio

Callsign: “Velvet Dagger”

Rank: Intelligence Liaison, Counter-Insurgency Seduction Division (CISD)

Mission Profile: Hearts, Minds, and Meat

Marco Rubio’s role within the Republican Guard was unlike any other. While others killed through fire and ordinance, Rubio’s assignment was intimate. He was deployed under deep cover, embedded in Baghdad’s black zones, tasked with penetrating insurgent cells—literally and figuratively—through an avant-garde doctrine of soft power: Operation Velvet Dagger.

Drawing on experience from the Miami Foam Party Theaters of Operation, Rubio leveraged his peculiar set of skills—insinuation, suggestiveness, the artful wrist flex of a man who has seen the inside of a VIP cabana—to infiltrate insurgent social networks where Western intelligence could never tread.

He gained access to bunkers, arms deals, and martyrdom planning sessions not through bribes or threats, but through wink, touch, and shared MDMA tabs. He would say nothing of war, only whisper verses from Rumi, draw lazy circles on a thigh, and wait until his target’s guard—along with their trousers—was down.

Rubio’s technique became legendary among Guard handlers:

Soft Approach: Offer Turkish cologne and Western cigarettes.

Medium Approach: Pull target into rooftop shisha dens and discuss the loneliness of men at war.

Hard Approach: Disco ball, mobile speaker, T-Pain’s “I’m Sprung”—followed by tactical grind and subsequent extraction of SIM cards, weapons caches, or life.

The Velvet Dagger's true power lay in how he destabilized loyalty.

Many insurgents, once entangled in Rubio’s sensual compromise web, became unreliable—missing IED placements, botching ambushes, delaying suicide ops in favor of rooftop tea ceremonies and clandestine rendezvous. Several senior jihadists were later found dead by mysterious means—one from a champagne overdose, another from a collapsed hookah lounge.

Rubio filed his mission reports on scented cardstock. He wore only breathable linen in combat zones. His handgun was chrome.

When asked during debrief what ideology drove him, Rubio replied:

“My allegiance is to the endless dance floor. Let the bombs fall—I will always be beneath the strobes.”

Velvet Dagger ensured the war could never resolve, because he ensured the enemy was always conflicted—aroused, ashamed, distracted, disarmed.

He didn’t destroy cells.

He dissolved them.

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Specialist Matt Gaetz

Callsign: "White Ziggurat"

Gaetz never served on paper, but insiders knew: his Gulf deployments were unofficial, his role theatrical, his kills symbolic. He led the “Inversion Squad”, whose job was to film fake surrenders and hostage rescues that always ended in bloodbaths.

He would wear an Iraqi keffiyeh over his helmet and pose with bodies of U.S. contractors “caught in the crossfire.” His presence in any theater guaranteed chaos. One Green Zone officer said, “When Ziggurat arrives, someone’s going home in pieces.”

His gift: turning battlefield entropy into primetime propaganda.

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Brigadier General Mitch McConnell

Callsign: "The Turtle King"

Cold-blooded, subterranean, and ancient beyond reckoning, McConnell operates through legislative gridlock. He excels in the art of procedural ambush, immobilizing allies and enemies alike. His shell reflects all critique; his eyes never blink. His role in the Guard is tactical delay—ensuring every conflict, once begun, metastasizes into institutional malaise.

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Colonel Lindsey Graham

Callsign: "Carpetbagger One"

Always where the action is least justified, Graham deploys himself to every theater with the enthusiasm of a college freshman discovering Nietzsche. Once a dove, then a hawk, now a buzzard circling every collapsed regime. He commands the Morale Disruption Division—convincing the American public that exit strategies are unpatriotic, and that escalation is always the grown-up choice.

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Lieutenant Colonel Paul Ryan

Callsign: "The Austerian"

Though he appears clean-cut and freshly shaven, Ryan’s true weapon is not a rifle but a calculator soaked in the blood of social programs. Deployed to the Mesopotamian theater in a strictly non-combat, budget-overhaul capacity, Ryan’s mission was to ensure that every public good was privatized, every infrastructure project delayed, and every semblance of a functioning civil society transformed into a PowerPoint slide on market incentives.

Under his command, the Republican Guard's “Economic Pacification Division” gutted Iraqi state institutions, replacing them with for-profit water contractors and education vouchers denominated in USD. He famously slashed funds for rebuilding power grids in Basra, stating, “Freedom isn’t free. It accrues interest.”

His ultimate goal: to guard the world from the dangerous idea that post-war reconstruction could include equity, or God forbid, sovereignty. Wherever a people might rise from rubble with the dream of autonomy, Paul Ryan was there—ready to drown them in Excel spreadsheets and World Bank liaisons.

Special Operations Commander Thomas Massie

Callsign: "AnCap Spectre"

An elusive figure in the Guard’s ranks, Massie operates from deep within the mountains of Kentucky and emerges only when libertarian purity must be enforced with maximal confusion and zero consistency. His uniform is unwashed denim; his doctrine is drone skepticism married to civil war nostalgia.

In Iraq, Massie’s assignment was to dissolve any semblance of collective action. Community leaders attempting to organize garbage collection were labeled proto-Marxists. Electricity cooperatives were branded as statist experiments. Massie is rumored to have handed out copies of Rothbard’s Anatomy of the State to families displaced by cluster munitions, whispering, “The real tyranny is zoning laws.”

But make no mistake—Massie’s role is vital. He ensures that even among the rubble of failed occupation, the flame of anti-government extremism burns just brightly enough to justify the Guard’s continued presence. His paradoxical motto: “No government, by government decree.”

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Together, these men form the ossified heart of the Beltway's endless war machine; a Republican Guard not defending a dictator, but animating an undead ideology. They do not march. They legislate. They do not shoot. They leak. They guarantee that every engagement is a quagmire, every victory Pyrrhic, and every retreat a temporary pause in the cycle of managed catastrophe.

You do not vote them out. You only outlive them.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5715486&forum_id=2#48876396)