Reversal Chapter #1

It's another day in the life of the Reds and Blues. Sarge, the sergeant/mad doctor was working on and electronic device: A portable EMP bomb, or an emp as they called it. He had just commissioned a testing of the device.

"Okay, Simmons, say Grif is enjoying a shower of ****ography, and suddenly his computer goes kapoot!"

"Brilliant, sir!" Simmons did in his standard fashion of kissing Sarge's butt.

Meanwhile, at Blue base, Tucker was suffering Donut's "Room service" to "Repay" them for whatever they did.

"Caboose, if I ever make it through all of this, I've always hated you, I think you're stupid, and I'm never drinking coffee again!" Tucker resolved.

"Right back at you, retard." Caboose gargled milk."Oh, man! I just accidentally erased my name I wrote in spit. Oh! I can still read it! It's in green pen!"

"Yo, retard! Your visor's covered in mildew." Tucker corrected.

"That sounds like something I had at Taco Bell." Caboose responded.

"Uh, Cabose? Dude, you spelled your name wrong! There's two "O"s in "Caboose" You know!"

"My Mama called me that, so I spell it out of respect. All those other guys in spelling class were stupid. Hey Tucker, can you turn on my magic tummy rub machine?"

"Caboose, that's a massage chair, you're supposed to put your back to those **** things, you know."

"Oh! Uh, Donut! Tucker broke the messenger ba-"

"Massage chair! And I didn't break it, you did!"

"Donut, I blamed Tucker for breaking the chair!"

"BS, Caboose!" Tucker whined.

"Cheer up, guys! Do you want your coffee with extra cream?" Donut asked with his 'kiss the cook' apron on.

"I'm not falling for that again, Donut!"

"You don't know what you're missing, Lavernius!" Donut waved his finger around.

"Shut up!" Tucker yelled.

Back at Red base, Sarge finished planning his assault on Blue base. Grif dragged his lazy at dollars dollars over to where they were briefing.

"Now, men, today is the day we use everything in our personal bag of tricks-"

"Does that include that sock I-"

"No, it does not, numbnuts! What do you think we are, a ****er club?"

"Yes, sir."

"Dag nab it, private. This ain't no poker trampoline!"

"Poker trampoline? I just had the weirdest case of de-ja-vu." Simmons commented.

"What're you on about?" A blue soldier came out of nowhere.

"Uh, who in Sam Hill are you, blue?" Sarge pointed his M90 at the stranger/intruder/d-bag.

"I'm private Jones, I'm from the future, and you need to listen to me! Do not attack the blues!"

"Don't attack the blues? Don't think I can't see that you're a Blue! You can't just come in here with that funky accent claiming to be from the future!"

"Right!" Simmons agreed." We are the red army, and we don't trust the Blues! Not even with your sexy accent! Especially Sarge here. The steadfast leader of-"

"Shut up, kiss $$!" Grif spat out.

"Listen, you have to trust me! Your EMP will cause a huge explosion destroying your spirit and the bodies of your counterparts."

"Counterparts?" Simmons repeated.

"Yes!" Jones replied." They're your equals who control your movement based on their interpretation of your personalities!"

"Sarge, what if he's not lying? What if he's actually from the future, and we're gonna die?"

Back in the real world, Gus Sorola was voicing Simmons. He removed the microphone from his face.

"They're gonna die? And us with them? Matt, do you think this will actually happen?"

"I don't think we can trust that sexy Brit." Matt replied.

Matt had forgotten to remove his microphone, and consequently, his last words echoed: Sexy Brit, sexy Brit, , sexy Brit, , sexy Brit, , sexy Brit, , sexy Brit.

"Sexy Brit." Sarge spelled out loud.

"Uh, Sarge, you okay?" Simmons asked.

"Oh, no! It's happening already! The EMP! It was armed, but who could've-"

Caboose stood up, with the EMP in his hands.

"Oh, oh, hi Captain buttwiggle! I noticed you had a button, so I pushed it and now-I hate you, Matt, I hate everything about-Pumpkin Sprinkles!"

Grif walked around in a different armour from what the Reds were used to.

"Grif, is your armour covered in $#!%?" Simmons yelped.

"What're you on about?" Master Chief inquired in a fake British accent. He then started dabbing his finger on his green armour and tasting it.

"Dude, are you eating the $#!%?" Simmons almost puked.

"Oh, you should try this Gustavo." Goeff recommended.

"Goeff? What kind of name is that?"

"The kind you put "Lazer Ramsey" after." Goeff(Geoff) replied.

"You insolent-" Sarge started changing prematurely."Make me a pie chart!"

To be continued, shut up! Especially you, Werewolfsucker!