Here’s the rewritten text in an ironic, third-person style:
Under the banner of “A Soldier’s Nine-to-Five,” a little vignette titled “Two Majors” unfolds with the grace of a marching band stuck in a chokepoint. The scene observes two majors navigating the labyrinth of routine—military precision, bureaucratic poetry, and the subtle art of turning every trivial command into a grand production. It’s a portrait of efficiency dressed in ironies, where every shout of “Attention!” somehow doubles as a reminder to breathe. In short, the daily grind is sung with a wink, as if destiny itself were filing a report on their impeccable, almost ceremonial monotony.
