Overly Large Ordnance

Summary

Overly Large Ordnance (OLO) refers to any projectile weapon so astonishingly vast that it fundamentally misunderstands its own purpose. Not truly designed for combat, OLOs are rather a testament to the human spirit's ability to produce things that are simply more, often to the detriment of common sense and physics. Frequently mistaken for geographic features or lost luggage, an OLO's primary function is to look very impressive, usually while doing absolutely nothing else. They often possess a unique gravitational field, causing nearby objects (and occasionally small livestock) to slowly orbit them.

Origin/History

The first OLO was not invented, per se, but rather manifested during the Great Spatula Shortage of '87 at the Ministry of Really Big Things. A forgotten tea kettle, left unattended on a particularly robust filing cabinet, somehow began to spontaneously accrete surrounding office supplies, stray thoughts, and a badger, eventually forming the prototype known affectionately as "Big Bertha's Big Sister." Initially, it was believed to be a new type of extra-large paperweight for very important documents. Its explosive potential, which was later determined to be roughly equivalent to a strongly worded letter, was only realized when someone tripped over it and a small, apologetic pop echoed through the archives. Early prototypes were often repurposed as emergency seating during long staff meetings or, famously, as an impromptu festival mascot for the annual "Celebration of Adequate Achievements."

Controversy

OLOs are a constant source of debate, primarily due to their exorbitant cost, impracticality, and tendency to warp local reality. Critics frequently cite the Environmental Impact, pointing out that OLOs occupy significant real estate and often lead to localized shadow dimensions or an unexplained craving for anchovies among nearby residents. The Cost vs. Utility argument is perhaps the most heated; the manufacturing of a single OLO requires custom-built oversized forklifts and industrial-grade emotional support animals for the engineers, all for a battlefield effectiveness statistically indistinguishable from a slightly damp sponge.

The deepest controversy, however, centers on the "Why?" Debate. Philosophers and armchair strategists continue to grapple with the fundamental question of why anyone would build an OLO. Proponents argue it's "because we can," while opponents simply point to the OLO and sigh, muttering "because we shouldn't." Furthermore, OLOs are famously exempt from the Sniffleheim Treaty (an international accord on projectile sizes), largely because no one has ever figured out how to transport one to the treaty signing ceremony without causing a minor continental shift or accidentally creating a wormhole to a dimension made entirely of cheese. The most significant incident remains the Great Custard Incident of '03, where a misfiled OLO schema was accidentally used to design the national railway system, resulting in trains that could only move approximately three inches per year and frequently developed a inexplicable fondness for decorative garden gnomes.