"Gather around, children," chimed the blue-coated medic in an uncharacteristically soothing tone as he opened a heavy book, though his soft words tainted with his harsh German accent. "It iz ztory time." He could never not sound commanding and aggressive, he simply wasn't a gentle person even with how his uniform and profession gave him the illusion of being a kind, trustworthy person. Despite suspiciousness brought on by his attempts to seem warm and friendly, you still hesitantly took a seat, though you weren't sure where these "children" were that he spoke of. Perhaps he really was crazy.
"It iz ze ztory of ze Little Red Running Scout and ze Big Blu Heavy," he began, adding a special emphasis to the title of the story.
Once upon a time, in a city far from here, a magical place called Boston, there lived a grown man. Now no one knew him by name because they all took to calling him Little Red Running Scout thanks to how he always darted about everywhere in his little red shirt and his spindly little legs, never holding still long enough for you to squish him. He was called "little" because he was indeed, quite tiny. Like a bunny... That you want to poke with a needle full of- Oh, never mind.
One day his mother told him that her beau was feeling under the weather and she hadn't the time to bring him lunch, so she asked her swiftest son to take a basket full of freshly cooked goodies to him. Now she had countless sons, five or twelve or twenty-seven... Whatever is the average for Americans, breeding like vermin. But! Little Red Running Scout was his fastest, so she asked him to run this very special errand for her.
"But Ma, he's a blue spy! Do ya hear me? A blue spy! He stabbed me in tha back last week! I'm the reason that two-face scumbag is sick!" Little Red Running Scout protested profusely, but his mother would not have any of that back talk. So she knocked some respect back into him and sent him on his way. With a freshly fattened lip, he darted quickly through the streets, running as fast as his skinny little legs (that you want to break) could take him. He weaved through traffic and between crowds swarming on the busy city sidewalks like a swift and . His journey was going well and he planned to be home in time for ze, erm, game... When suddenly someone stopped him.
"Little Red Running Scout," called a deep voice as Red passed him by. Upon hearing his name, he instantly stopped and spun around to see who had called for him. It was an elderly old man draped in a brown hood that hid most of his hulking body, with misshapen suitcase almost as big as he was. The clearly fake white beard that hugged his chin rose some suspicion from Red, but he was used to working with crazies regularly so it wasn't long before he dismissed it as nothing. Little did Red know, this was the Big Blu Heavy.
"Watdya want, brudda? I gotta go," Red asked urgently, still running in place with the basket dangling from his arm.
"Where is little man going in such big hurry?" The heavy man queried. He suddenly found himself mesmerized by the heavenly smells wafting gently from the basket. "What is in basket? Sandvich, maybe?" He wondered aloud as he leaned in to get a better whiff of the delicious aroma.
"Hey hey hey, keep yer mits offa this! It ain't for you!" Red jumped back to protect the basket. For a moment he considered giving the creepy heavy old man the basket and telling his mother that he got mugged, but he knew she would never believe that story. He was too quick and far too lethal for any common mugger.
"Waaah!" The creepy old heavy man cried.
"Alright, I'll cut ya a deal," Red began as he retrieved a sandwich from the basket, "you can have dis here sandwich if you tell me where the blue spy lives."
The heavy man looked at the sandwich longingly as he considered the proposal. 'If I give little man bad directions, I could maybe beat him there and pretend to be blue spy. Then he gives me more sandviches!' He thought to himself, quite proud of the brilliant scheme he had devised. "I think blue spy lives down that road, at city limits," the old man lied as he pointed down one of the paved city streets.
"Good, now take this! I've gotta go," Red spat hastily, annoyance sliding off his tongue as he begrudgingly handed the ovular man a perfectly cut bologna sandwich wrapped in plastic. He likely would have left the man with nothing if it weren't for the crowd of onlookers staring at the two. 'That good fer nuthin' spy won't mind missin' one,' Red thought to himself before dashing off again as the man munched happily on the sandwich.
Once Red was out of sight and the sandwich was safe inside of his belly, the old man tore away his tattered robe to reveal that he was no old man! He was (*gasp!*) the blue heavy! "I will show little bunny he cannot keep sandvich from me!" He shouted as he ran down another street laughing madly.
Soon the Heavy arrived at Blu Spy's apartment on the second floor of a tall building on Main Street. "Knock-knock, little man!" Heavy shouted as he banged on the door, his face glowing with girlish glee as he dreamt of the many delicious sandwiches he would ingest. "It is your best friend!"
A loud thump could be heard inside, then after a couple of short minutes Spy opened the door a crack and peeked out. "Eh? What do you want?" He asked in his thick French accent.
"I want to come in!" Heavy chuckled deeply as he kicked the door open.
"What are you doing, you overgrown brute? Put me down!" Spy shouted furiously as he was heeved into the air and hauled into the backroom before being locked in the wardrobe with the body of his most recent victim. "Let me out of here!"
"Do not worry, it is only for little time," Heavy assured him before running off to squeeze into one of Spy's blue suits. Heavy spent several hours trying to squeeze his hulking body into one suit after another, leaving each one with massive holes where the seams split under so much pressure. Finally he found the suit Spy saved as a reminder of his 300 pound days, a time to where he wished to never return. "Perfect, fit like glove!" Heavy laughed proudly as he admired himself in the mirror.
"Hey, ya backstabbin' scumbag! Let me in!" Shouted Red as he banged at the door.
Spy screamed and banged on the closet door, but to no avail. It was his own fault for making his apartment entirely sound proof. He didn't like being heard.
"I am coming for you, Sandvich!" Heavy shouted joyously as he slipped on the blue skii mask and stomped to the door. The door swung open and instantly Red's jaw dropped as he saw what he thought was a morbidly obese blu spy.
"Ya know, ma doesn't like fatties," Red finally spoke again after a moment to grasp just how much weight his mother's beau had gained in a week.
Heavy clearly didn't understand what Red was saying as he gave him a baffled look and leaned in, as if trying to search his mind for an explanation. "What does little man mean?"
"I mean... My, what a fat ass ya got!" He said bluntly.
Heavy's lips curved into a pout as he looked over his shoulder at his derriere. "Butt is not fat..."
"C'mon, what do you do? Stuff your fat face constantly?"
"Face is not fat..."
"Jeeze, even your hands musta put on ten pounds! My ma isn't gonna like this!" Red didn't even try to hide his amusement, even pleasure in this turn of events. His mother loved a handsome, suave man, not this overweight behemouth. She'd take one look at him and dump him on his ass!
Heavy stood in shock at the verbal abuse he had taken from the tiny man, gazing teary-eyed at his hands before breaking down in tears. "Waaaaah! Why is little bunny man so cruel! I only want sandvich!" He began to bawl at the top of his lungs, enough to rumble through the sound-proof walls.
"Woah, woah, what the hell man." Red stepped back and frantically began to hush him, his eyes darting from side to side nervously. But Heavy's tears came to a sudden halt after a painful scream. The ground shook as he collapsed on the floor, and behind him stood the red spy. He lit a fresh cigarette and knelt down to de-mask the giant, revealing the heavy's face.
"What the hell are you doin' here? What the hell is goin' on?" Red asked, his voice raised by the unexpected turn of events.
"Zat is ze warmest welcome you can offer a teammate? Tsk," spy stated rather coolly as he drew a cigarette from his pocket and lit it up. "I needed to borrow a cup of sugar, and I forgot that I didn't need to kill ze blue spy. I have been masquerading as him for ze past week, your mother has not noticed." He calmly strode out of the door, pulling it shut behind him as he draped his arm over Red's shoulder in a fatherly manner.
"Brudda, you got problems," Red said as he fidgeted in Spy's embrace. He was too taken aback by the turn of events to consider what his comrade was doing to his mother.
"Perhaps, but I will have your mother as well," Spy laughed victoriously as he dawned the disguise of the Blu Spy and walked home with Red.
"And zat night, ze Red Spy had intercourse with Red's mother over and over and over and paid her well!" the medic began to cackle madly, but his laughter was cut short with a heart-stopping bang as his head was blown off. His body was struck with such force that it flew across the room and hit the opposite wall with a heavy thump. The Red Scout stood balanced on the back of his chair with his Force a' Nature in hand and a disgruntled look on his face.
"I told'ya ta stop spreadin' lies about my Ma bein' a hooker!" Red growled at the lifeless body of the Blue Medic as he jabbed it with his gun barrel.
Somewhere in a spawnpoint far away, the medic cursed Red's name for the headache he gave him.