Cadet Sergeant Major

The lowest form of life at any military academy. He'd forget his head if it wasn't attached by a stack-of-dimes neck. He aimlessly rolls through NYC in a luxury car that his elitist, wealthy, do-good parents bought him as a graduation present. He wears a leather jacket regardless of the weather and is usually seen in some combination of khaki, denim and running shoes. He regularly uses the words tool, whatnot, and essentially and throws in some piece of military jargon whenever the situation calls for it. He fails miserably with females but, because of his keen intellect, is able to return from every weekend trip with tales of sexual conquest that would make Wilt Chamberlain jealous. He takes himself too seriously and relishes the chance to prove his worth by rattling off statistics and opinions garnered from the last article or editorial he read on the subject. He is worthless, and deep down, he knows it.

Real Men of Genius. Today, Bud Light salutes you Mr. Cadet Sergeant Major. For you, obscene rules and anal ideals are nothing but everyday necessities. With ridiculous standards and an even more ridiculous haircut, you crack the whip over not only your classmates, but those who are older, smarter, and higher ranking than you. And why do you do it? Because deep down inside you know you are better than everyone around you, and you know you don't care what anyone else thinks. So crack open an ice cold Bud Light Mr. Emerging Leader, cause without you, Firsties would have no one to laugh at.

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