Don't know if we ever covered this. I know BT laid the groundwork for it, and hit pretty damn close.
Your typical Suspect generally holds this sacred insignia on their chest, meaning that they are the rank of Specialist, a glorious rank where you typically aren't in charge of shit, but you aren't the little bitch private that has to do everything. In fact, a seasoned Suspect will do everything in his power to dump the workload on the privates. If questioned about it, the best answer in my humble opinion is, "Experience is the best teacher. I am educating this soldier so that he is a better asset to this unit, for sadly I will not always be here." Then tell the private that the Force will be with him, always. And THEN send that sadsap enlisted bitch to crawl under the Stryker and drain the filthy fetid water out of the hull. Laugh at will, because that used to be you.
A Suspect must be able to be walk the fine line between smartass and unpunishable. The most important lesson to learn is that Thou Shalt Not Give Thyself Enough Rope To Hang Thyself. At the same time, you are required by the unspoken code of suspects to make an ass of yourself on occasion. Fuck your pride, you can always claim that you were "being ironic" or "doing it for yuks", when really everyone (especially you) knows that you are legally retarded in the state of Arizona.
Actually, come to think of it, it's not very hard to be a suspect of sorts. A better guide would be titled "How To Emulate My Specific Brand Of Awesome" but you can't have it.
A Suspect is a sham artist. Appointment slips are magical and delicious, and as a bonus, a well-documented medical record is good to have when you want to claim that the Army gave you whiplash, even though it was really the forty pound box of asswhoopin' that was hand delivered to you at a Slayer concert.
Suspects were the assholes who taught the Iraqi children how to swear. By the time I made it to that beautiful holy land, small children were demanding candy and informing me of my sacriligious sexual preference. I say again, an eight year old Arab informed me that I was gay. I told him that Aladdin was really a cigar-loving Jew.
Oh yeah, also, now and again, Suspects pull some bullshit stunts. This could range from using food items as footballs, to mailing feces, to hitting the Air Force with indirect fire of a waterballoon nature, to flipping off friends only to find that it's really the First Sergeant, to... HEY! Did Samuel L Jackson ever do a Spike Lee movie? I think he did, but I can't remember.
Basically, to be a suspect, you have to be a douche and somehow be liked for it. Suspect is every shamming, scheming, planning E4 out there. Suspect is the Zack Morris of the Army. Suspect is the guy who knows when to stop fucking with someone but keeps on doing it anyway. He's the guy who attacks the first sign of weakness or sensitivity like a shark smelling blood. He'll tell you that recent polls indicate that your Jetta is a girl car and that your taste in music is a direct representation of your taste in other guys. Suspect is an asshole, and he's everywhere. I've met suspects who were ten times what I am. I chloroformed them.
Too long, didn't read?
A future Suspect:
Suspect: What A Dick.