Marine Corps Stories: Perfect for Cleaning

Vinegar and lemon juice both squeezed into the thirty ounce bottle.

The one who had ordered both of these liquids together stood with his hands on his hips and legs spread apart. Gloves covered his hands and a smirk curled around his mouth. He paced. Then he stopped.

“I’ve done it,” he said to himself. After trying to use shampoos, soaps, lotions, and before he attempted it, learning online not to mix liquid bleach and ammonia because of their deadly toxicity, Private First Class Campbell “Soup” Caravel had concocted a cleaning agent that begged to be placed on the market.

“I’ve got to think,” he said aloud. How do I let my fellow Marines use this? Do I have to get a patent? How does that work? How long does that take? He didn’t waste time to go on the internet and see what he must do to properly test, approve, register, produce, and reap the benefits from his latest production.

He scrolled the pages like an ascetic combing through religious texts. He found a copyright and patent lawyer, and called the number. He accomplished these feats during chowtime. He had told his buddy, Lance Corporal Dallas Badland, that he’d grabbed a bite from the PX.

He capped the mixture and telephoned a lawyer dealing in intellectual property cases.

“You’ve reached the offices of Harkins and Associates. For information regarding registering a new product or design press one.”

The tone sounded when Caravel tapped the button. Surprised, he heard someone on the other line.

“Good afternoon, this is Lennon Dotts speaking.”

“Yes, Mr. Dotts. I’m calling to see about trademarking a new cleaning agent.”

“Okay, first we’re going to need a retainer that’s $3,000, a fee for filing the product that’s 2,500, and also any taxes and fees that may go into this product, which may be $4,000.”

Caravel stood in his barracks room stunned. “I’ll have to get back to you on that. Thanks for your time.”

“My pleasure I hope—”

Caravel hung up the phone, and stared at the clear liquid that sat on his ledge. He switched tactics. He went out to the smoke pit and started finding bottles of dip spit and collected them all. He went back to his room, flushed the contents, washed them all out, and sterilized each with rubbing alcohol. He then started pouring the mixture into the bottles. He made fifteen bottles worth of his concoction.

He then put the bottles in his ditty bag, and went door to door.

“What do you want, boot?” A corporal with his lip protruding with tobacco said.

“I’ve just came up with a formula for—”

The door slammed in his face.

Badland met up with him.

“Hey, what’s with the ditty bag? You moving?”

“No.” He opened the bag and showed the lance corporal .

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s this new cleaning agent that I came up with. It’s a blend of everything that cleans but it’s totally non-toxic.”

“Great. How’d you fare with the attorney?”

“How’d you—”

“When I was a private, I mashed up all these air fresheners, put them on pore cleaning pads, and tried to sell them. I made a little bank but not enough to match what the lawyers were talking about with all of those fees. So, I just gave up on the project and kept moving. But I’m not stopping you. Sell if you must. Just remember, your product is out here naked without the proper legal backing. Maybe when we get out, we’ll go into business together.”

“We’ll name it Perfect for Cleaning.”

“That sounds about right.”