I was 12 years old when I realized that I'm not really a man at heart, but rather a 19 foot, 10.5 inch long Gatling Gun strapped onto a 24,959 pound airframe. All my life has been a lie but I'm setting that right today. I was designed to kill Soviet tanks. From now on, call me "Warthog". That is my real name. I'm having plastic surgeons attach a GAU-8 Avenger 30 millimeter rotary cannon, 1,200 pounds of titanium armor, and two General Electric TF34-GE-100 turbofan engines to my body. Sgt. Major Fairchild said that I'm -blam!-ing stupid and I can't be a jet, but I am beautiful and I am a goddamn jet.