Prologue
"Woooo wee, here it comes, boys! Such a magnificent work o' machinery! Why, I could even gaze at 'er all day!" the Engineer said, enraptured.
"Yo, hard hat, 'gaze at it all day' later, 'cause we gotta unpack the stuff now!" the Scout yelled back at him.
"Boy, you just don't understand just how amazin' the engineerin' in this thing is! Fully automated, runnin' offa perpetual motion gadgetry an' whatnot!"
"Oh, man, here he goes again."
After the RED team had finished taking out the contents of the self-guided, environmentally friendly transportation system most would refer to as the "RED cargo train", they went to view their loot. The Soldier, Pyro, and Demoman congregated into their usual corner of the sewers of Teufort. They opened their packages, immediately cast aside the new weapons, ammunition, and other useful supplies. There would be time for that later, now was time for the hats.
"Let's see what HQ brought us with the supply train this time, boys," the Soldier said coolly, and picked up his new hat. The 3 men crowded around to absorb the glory of the headwear.
The Salty Dog
Get all of a boat captain's respect without the crushing responsibility of actually captaining a boat or the enormous amount of ongoing maintenance a boat requires!
The American tried the hat on.
"Looks good, lad!" the Demo slurred out only partially drunk (the hat train's an occasion the Scotsman doesn't drink on... too much).
"Mmmmhmm," the Pyro said.
"Well then, what did I get?" asked the Demo, to no one in particular.
With hands shaking (due to slight withdrawal from not having as much alcohol as usual) the Demoman picked up his hat.
Buccaneer's Bicorne
Hoist the mainsail! Buckle those swashes! Get into a swordfight! Pirate captains yell stuff like this all the time, and now you can too.
Now that the Demo received his hat, he resumed drinking heavily and was already inebriated, lying on the floor. Nonetheless, the other 2 men completely ignored this (as this was usual behavior expected of the black man) and the mumbling fire man brought out his hat.
The Little Buddy
People will think you're in the Navy. But the joke is on them, BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT! That is just one possible benefit of this tricky hat.
"Gentlemen, let's review. I think HQ has a mission for us, to go into the maritime business, the naval corps."
The Pyro was too busy cooking something furry in the corner and the Demoman too drunk to walk. The Soldier continued, though.
"The mission is clear. We shall do it, no matter the cost!"
The Soldier continued rambling on with his delusions for a good part of the hour; he believed it to be an "inspirational speech" that was "rallying the troops" or something.
Finally, he finished, "And that, boys, is why we are going to sea!"
No one in particular made an objection as they had hardly noticed the Soldier's less-than-sane fit. So, by default, they were going with his "plan".
All 3 of them also missed how the descriptions attached to the headgear presented each made it clear that they were NOT in any sort of maritime occupation, and rather, the hats were to mislead others.
Lieutenant Jim "Jimmy" Jimbo had had a long day at sea.
The men were always rowdy, and he always had to keep them bottled up, but now he would finally get a break.
It was all going behind him, because the boys were going to dock at the shore, take their leave, get extremely drunk, and generally have a good time.
He knew that the officers were supposed to be a good example and he followed that by trying to ignore all the chaos of what happened when the sailors all got to shore, so he sat on the deck, absentmindedly smoking his pipe and trying to look outwardly thoughtful. There was a slight upside to being in charge of a minor, unimportant tanker (even if it was a punishment for fumbling, hard, along with a demotion) and it was that civilians at least weren't as bad as real Navy men when it came to the excesses of leave, though boys were still boys. Things were still a bit more peaceful overall, though.
All his idle thoughts were quickly snapped as a strange trio of men caught his eye. Normally, he would not have given passerbyers a second glance, but something was off about them.
The first man was a muscled, brutish looking man, who had the appearance of an old veteran. His ridiculous hat ruined the image, however.
The second man was colored, and wore a gaudy pirate's tricorne to match. Along with the silly hat he had a funny pegleg, cartoonish cherry bombs, and was even drinking out of a bottle of distinctly pirate-like rum.
The third... man, if he even was, was clad entirely in a fireproof suit and a gas mask of some sort to wear. But he wore on his head a hilariously stereotypical sailor's cap, which spoiled the fireman's getup.
Their fashion statements... were quite... unorthodox.
Jim was surprised when the first man looked up at him and shouted at him.
"WE ARE COMMANDEERING YOUR VESSEL! FOR AMERICA!" he shouted.
"An' bloody Scotland!" the second man managed, drunkeningly.
"Mmmmmpppfffffffffffff!" the masked fire man added, quite incoherently, but with an air of sophistication and intelligence.
"Oh, great, a bunch of lunatics," he thought,"there goes my relaxing evening."
He really didn't know how much worse it was going to get for him.