Jack T. Koothrappali

Full Name: Jack T. Koothrappali Unit: Mauve Squirrels Title or Job: Heavy Weapons Specialist

Age: 22 Race: Indian Homeworld: New Persia Hometown: Mumbay Date of Birth: August 14th. Personality: Jack is definately not a leader, he happily and dutifully follows orders. He's a stickler for playing by the rules and orders his superiors set down for him. He's honest to a fault if directly asked, but sincerely tries to avoid saying things that will hurt someone's feelings. He always means well and is loyal to the end. He is sweet and feels everything very deeply, love, anger, happiness, sadness. Some see his emotions as a weakness, having his heart on his sleeve, but he likes to see them as a stregnth. His capacity for deep feelings is almost equalled by his incapacity for deep thoughts. He's a simple creature, and focuses on the little things in life. What he is good at though, he is _very_ good at, and that, is running a machine gun and blowing things up.

Biography: So, when I joined the army, it was like a round peg fitting into a round hole. I never understood why people thought being in the army was so hard, you stand up straight, you do what you're told. If you over-think it then you have problems. I am a simple man, and like a simple life. I do what I'm told, I let them do the thinking. I love blowing things up.

So there was this one guy in my squad, he didn't like me. I don't know why he didn't like me, I was always nice to him. He said my feet stunk, and he called me stupid, I don't think that's reason enough to do what he did.

One day, after a night of drinking, I woke up in a box. The box had air-holes and canteens of water and food rations. If I was on a special mission, I hadn't been briefed.

I yelled for help and I could feel the box being moved by people, but they didn't let me out for a long time. Finally when the box was opened, the guy standing over the box was reading a note.

He stuck something in my ear then he could talk my language, which was weird, but it worked. Then he explained that the box I was in was labeled to be sent to Abu-something, but the address had gotten ripped off, and somehow I'd been delivered here.

The paperwork with the box, which apparently I signed, though I don't remember, said that I was signing over my military service contract to the military unit of my destination. Since I'd ended up in this place called the Red Fork Empre, I'd be serving here. It was pretty well all the same to me. They let me blow things up and shoot things; I do what I'm told, and I get along just fine.