Team Fortress 2: A Lunch to Remember
The air was dry and the sky was blue. It was a warm day. All was relatively quiet across the rural farmland if you didn't count the numerous thunderous claps and booms rumbling in the distance. It was not a nearing thunderstorm however, it was the sound of various incendiary devices and artillery fire. In an odd dual-sided and somewhat claustrophobic looking military installation, one in shades of red, the other blue, two teams of nine mercenaries were engaged in the war of a lifetime. For which purpose, neither of them really seemed to know or care. And thus they fought until the sun was high in the sky.
A horn came blaring through the fields and the action quickly ceased.
"Lunch break!" yelled a beefy looking man draped in a WWII era uniform and green helmet which he wore clumsily low over his own eyes.
And for some reason all of the men unanimously evacuated the field to grab lunch. A spry skinny young lad in a cap and tennis shoes came running to his side of the battle field intent on obtaining a satisfying meal. His lunch however, was going to be provided by someone else via a whimsical five finger discount. Like an overgrown mouse he crept soundlessly along the numerous wooden walls and doorsteps and stairways until he found the individual he was looking for. A giant of a man, he was a burly Russian with a stature and bodily shape much like a grizzly bear although shaved and wearing clothing. He had tiny legs, huge meaty arms, a large torso with a potbelly, and a small head. He was perched on a supply crate with a cold beer resting on the ground at his feet and in his hand a large hunk of deliciousness. It was a tasty sandwich composed of several meats, cheeses, lettuce, tomato, two slices of fresh white bread, possibly a dash of mayo, and adorned with a green olive speared on a toothpick on top.
The young man wanted that sandwich very badly and he was determined to get it using his lightning fast reflexes and superior cunning for he was the Scout and his enemy, the lowly Heavy Weapons Man. The Scout tip-toed closer to his unsuspecting victim and pulled out his trusty weapon which was a bat from the future made of thick aluminum. It was still very much stained with the blood and brain matter of previous victims and now it was about to be stained further if the Heavy man would not relinquish his food item.
"Hey you fatty fat-FAT-fat! You've had enough sammiches to last your fat ass a whole lifetime so why not gimme dat one?" called the devious Scout as he made his presence known quite arrogantly and jumped atop a second crate only a few feet away from the seated Heavy. Now gaining the Heavy's attention, the Heavy turned toward the youthful man with a frown on his freakishly large mouth.
"I do not think so leetle, leetle man," came the rumbling response from the mighty behemoth. "You vill have to go back to nibbling corn on the ground like the leetle mouse you are!" he said in the uncaring manner and went back to focusing on his magnificent calorie packed lunch. Before he could take a bite, the Scout was huffing and puffing in front of him with a look of impudent rage upon his freckled little face.
"You stupid lard filled prick! I said hand over dat sammich or I'll bash your freakin' brains out," snarled the Scout, waving his shounen-batto in the air menacingly. To his surprise the Heavy got up from his seat and stared him down angrily while putting the sandwich high up out of reach. The Scout growled. The Heavy sneered. The two remained that way for an oddly extended time before doing anything else. Suddenly the Heavy smiled.
"Okay, you vant sandvich? How bad?" asked the Heavy.
"Bad enough to beat you upside your fat head and take it," muttered the Scout wishing he'd simply crept upon his prey and pummeled him first instead of drawing attention to himself whilst trying to be wonderfully macho. "I'm poor and hungry and my mommy didn't make me any lunch today because her ass is always busy. And not in the washing dishes and vacuuming kind of way if you get my drift." His face contorted into that of an emotionally fragile and vulnerable looking uke as thick streams of sparkling clear tears began to leak down his nearly prepubescently hairless visage which made him extremely KAWAII DESU YO.
Suddenly the Heavy's previously cold heart, battered by years and years of chilly Russian social reform, grew warmer upon seeing the pitifully pathetic display before him. "Vell, okay," responded the Heavy with a wag of his thick sausage-like finger. "I vill trade you sandvich I have here, da? Ve do not have to come to blows yet."
Pondering, the Scout lowered his bat. It seemed like a plausible offer. "Okay den. So what do you wanna trade for dat sammich, chunky loaf?"
The pleasantly plump beast of a man placed a finger to his wide lip in deep thought for a long moment as the impatient Scout waited, tapping his foot impatiently as he was so very impatient, before finally assuming another wide grin as a look of confirmation graced his pudgy face. "I vill trade..." the large man lowered down and whispered into the Scout's ear.
"What?" came the Scout's startled response. "You'll trade your sammich for my WHAT?"
"I thought you said you vanted sandvich so badly," prodded the obese Russian bear man with a wink.
Indeed, the Scout's empty stomach gave a traitorous growl at that very moment and caused his lips to pull down in the poutiest of pouts. "Well, yeah. Okay I guess," he muttered with a cringe.
"Good times!" bellowed the Heavy man as he grabbed up the scrawny youth in his huge meaty arms of deadly punching and whisked him off to the back of the shack nearby.
"Oh God!" wailed the fragile little man as regrets filled him and he soon found himself sans pantaloons and bent over a hay bale or something of that nature. And lo, the air was quickly filled with the screeches of what sounded like two cats in heat only it wasn't two cats, it was more like a giant fat Russian guy savagely butt pumping a mouthy little skinny brat from Brooklyn. Because that is not a Boston accent. "MY ASS!" yelled the slender Sukoutto as he was slammed over and over again by the burly man-bear as he shouted "GOOSH GOOSH! GOOSH GOOSH!" for some terrible reason known only to him and various people who watched really fucked up animes. But that's a much different story and it's much funnier than this. Though your mileage may vary.
The Scout felt hot wet tears of lustful sadness and secret desire streaming down his tragic face as he rode the sweet sweet Ruskie pole, his tender exit being stretched to the max. But it burned in a good way, a way he'd never known until just now, far better than when you have diarrhea but it doesn't hurt when it comes out which makes it so satisfying and he found himself crying out with joy and wanton passion as his lower regions began to ooze forth crimson fluids because apparently mayonnaise also makes for a bad lubricant. "OOOOOOOOH MY GOOOOOOOOOOD YEAAAAAAH" screamed the Scout as he was forced face down into the scratchy stinging hay over and over as his body slammed with the force of the mammoth behind him.
"GOOSH GOOSH!" screamed the Heavy a final time as he gave a massive thrust of his meaty man hips. He ended his frantic love session with a long satisfied groan like a fat man does when he's devoured something particularly delicious, or taken the anal virginity of a promiscuous young lad. "IT IS GOOD DAY TO BE GIANT MAN!" he yelled out.
And the Scout collapsed in a panting heap of wiry limps and sweat and hay and dirty dirty sexual fluids and mustard which he was pissed off at because that stain was never going to come out and his mom was going to yell at him. Also, jizz. And then with trembling lips and hand and wide tearful eyes he looked up at his content man-lover and squeaked "Okay. You blasted my ass pretty good. Can I have dat sammich now?" And the Heavy looked down with a pleasant smile and responded
"NYET!"
And then he picked up his shotgun and blew the Scout's brains all over the wall. And then he started eating the dismembered Scout's corpse with a cry of "SCOUT IS DELICIOUS!"
The End.
Dedicated to a friend.
There used to be more things written here but I was asked politely to remove them. So I did.
GOOSH GOOSH.
