A/N: This is my first TF2 fic, and I'm thinking of starting a "Story" as opposed to a oneshot after this. Let me know what you think :0
BONK?!?!
Scout hated living in Red Base, it looked like a barn, felt like a barn, and sure as Pyro loves to Spy-Check SMELLED like a barn. But the one thing he loved? The Bonk! Atomic Punch in the vending machine in the intelligence room. That's why he whistled merrily on his way to intelligence patrol duty, a stupid grin on his face. "Bonk, Bonk, it's out of your class, the more you drink the more you kick…" He muttered to himself, approaching the vending machine, stopping short in his limerick and dropping his jaw.
"AAAAAH!" He cried, seeing that "Bonk!" had been replaced by a fresh order of the Demoman's rum.
"B-b-b-Bonk?" Scout asked, pawing at the vending machine like a sad puppy. "
"Aye, laddy!" Demoman shouted, walking up to the vending machine and popping two quarters in and punching in some buttons. "What's wrong wit' ya now?" The black Scotsman would inquire.
"Where's the Bonk!?" Scout would frantically ask, searching the vending machine in case it had just gotten moved.
"Aye, the folks at command're gettin' rid of it! Sugar's bad for ya, they say." He replied, taking a swig of his rum.
"And alcohol isn't?!" Scout would exclaim, searching under the machine in case a can had rolled under there.
"I didn't make the decision, laddy." Demoman would say in his thick scottish accent, walking off with his rum.
A depressed scout walked back to the equipment room, shaking the last drops of Bonk! Atomic Punch from his last can. He took a deep sigh, overhearing a conversation happening behind him. Spy and Heavy were sitting together, sighing and conversing.
"Sandvich is gone from vending machine." Heavy would groan, polishing his minigun.
"I could care less, they took all the cigarettes!" Spy would angrily shout, cleaning the blood off of his butterfly knife.
"I have cigarettes." Heavy would say, pulling out a pack of smokes. Spy's eyes widened as he reached for the cigarette.
"Nuh-uh-uh!" Heavy would cry, withdrawing the cigarettes.
"I ought to gut you like a Cornish game hen." Spy said, pulling out his knife.
"I give you cigarettes if you get me sandvich!" Heavy laughed, putting the cigarettes in his pocket.
"But the only place left with sandwiches is Blue base!" Spy whined, reaching for Heavy's pocket.
"You can have ALL the cigarettes." Heavy smugly said, slapping Spy's hand.
Scout turned around to face the two. "Spy, do they have Bonk! at Blue base?" He asked.
"They have everything we had before corporate removed all the goods from the vending machine." He replied, turning around to face the Scout. "Demoman's rum tastes like watered down wheat, I can't stand it anymore!" He said, cleaning his revolver.
"Spy, can you do me a HUGE favor?" Scout asked, bandaging his hands.
"Depends. What do you need?" Spy asked in return, now polishing his gun.
"I need you to dress me up as a blue Scout. I need some Bonk!" He said, finishing with his bandaging.
"If you bring me back some cigarettes, we've got a deal." Spy said in his French accent, reaching for his SPYMASTER disguise machine. He pressed a number "1" on the keys and pulled out a paper mask with the face of a blue scout on it. "Here you go." Spy said, outstretching it to the Scout.
"What good will this do?" Scout inquired, putting on the mask.
"It's all you need. To Blue soldiers, you appear to be a Blue Scout." The Spy said, stashing his SPYMASTER in his suit pocket. "Just avoid Spy checkers." He finished.
"Bring me back sandvich?" Heavy asked.
"Sure." Scout replied, snapping the mask's string on the back of his head.
Scout felt silly as he infiltrated the enemy base that night. But he was also fearing for his life. "Do it for the Bonk." He told himself. "Do it for the Bonk."
His first obstacle was easily passed, an enemy sentry gun that he walked by unscathed. His second obstacle, now in the courtyard, wasn't so easy. A blue soldier walked up to him and looked him in the eye suspiciously.
"Hmm...Get back to work, you lazy bum, the night shift is no time for goofing around!" The Soldier said.
"Yes sir!" The Scout said, quickly wincing afterwards. What was he thinking? A scout would never call a Soldier "sir". The Soldier looked at him curiously. "Are you ill, son?" He asked, cupping his hand over his mouth to prevent contamination.
"N-no, I'm perfectly fine." He stuttered, backing away slowly.
"Then get back to work!" The Soldier said, walking back to the front entrance.
Scout was overjoyed with what he saw in the Blue intelligence room; an entire vending machine FILLED with Bonk! Cherry Fizz, Blutonium Berry, even some new weird grape flavor named "Grapes o' wrath". Scout smashed the glass on the machine with his baseball bat and scooped up all the Bonk! He could and lined his knapsack with them.
"Wait...What else was I supposed to get?" Scout asked himself as he scanned the vending machine opposite the Bonk! one. "Oh yeah, sandwiches and cigarettes." He remembered, smashing open the glass on the next vending machine and stuffing his pockets with cartons of cigarettes and some sandwiches in plastic packaging.
Suddenly, the alarms blared throughout the base. "INTRUDER ALERT. RED SCOUT IS IN THE BASE. INTRUDER ALERT. RED SCOUT IS IN THE BASE." It screamed as Scout realized his mask's string had come undone, the cameras would not be fooled anymore! He sprinted up the hallway, through the small room by the armory, and to the battlements.
"Bonk, do your stuff!" Scout shouted, guzzling a can of Bonk! Grapes o' wrath. His whole body shook and his vision began to blur as Scout jumped onto the roof of the bridge and sprinted across, dodging the bullets of an infuriated heavy weapons man behind him. Scout leapt onto Red battlements and disappeared into the armory, seeing Spy and Heavy waiting for him. The Scout emptied out his pockets for his companions, and the three had a party like never before.
A/N: Good? Bad? Please review :0 Anyways, I'm thinking of writing a big story, kind of like an episodic series. Anonymous reviews is turned on, so j00 don't have an excuse :(
(Flames accepted, but don't get carried away.)