Ze Medick is a Bird
The RED Sniper and the BLU Engineer were playing a round of chess. The BLU Engineer had the Sniper in a sticky situation, as he'd cornered Sniper's queen. He grinned, and gladly told Sniper that it was his move.
Sniper observed silently, on occasion rubbing his chin or doing something other motion to indicate he was deep in thought. Engineer waited patiently. And he waited. And he waited. And... he waited. After a long reprieve, Sniper yelled, "GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!" and knocked over the game board. He chuckled to himself that maniacal laugh he'd usually do on the battlefield. Engineer was kind of loopy and out of it then, because he'd figured Sniper wasn't that sort of man and he was about to win as well.
"Engie? You okay mate? How many fingers am I holding up?"
The hard hatted Texan looked dumbly at the Australian's fingers. Then, his face darkened.
"ERECTIN' A FINGER!" Engineer flipped the bird at Sniper. "HOW MANY FINGERS AM I HOLDING UP?" Dramatic music began to sound; thunder crashed; lightning flashed; sound was abound. Engineer looked to be possessed.
"Ah ha ha! Well played mate." A wicked grin spread across his face, undeterred by Engineer's unreal powers. "But you know else you erected?"
A moment later, Sniper answered his own question and stabbed Engineer in the crotch.
"Ahhhhhaaa ooooooh!"
"That's apples, mate! Plus, I have an apple!" Sniper ignored Engineer's screams (which were especially agonized due to the fact that the arrows had been ignited earlier) and then plopped a green fruit onto his head. "And now this apple is a hat!"
Some time past, and BLU Pyro wandered over, checking to see if the boring round of chess was over. It was.
"Fell fen, fow fhat fhat fizz fover fith, fou fanta fheck fon fedic? Feck fup fon fim?"
"Yeah, sure."
So they went off to Medic.
Medic, since a few days ago, had seemed to suffer some sort of heavy trauma to the head. Everyone had been unable to revive him no matter what was done: they tried punching him, shooting him, stabbing him, and even throwing large jars of unknown fluids at him. They had all finally given up and left rotations to watch him and oversee the healing machine on him and now it was their turn. When they got to Medic, it was dark out. The Sun had set already, and some weird manner of creatures in the Great Dustbowl would probably be out soon. Somebody really had to watch Medic, in his in-and-out loopy state.
So Pyro pulled out a lighter and lit one of Sniper's arrows. They walked cautiously inside the cave Medic was in. The light illuminated the area well, and they saw... BLU Scout!
"Scout! What're you doing?"
An earsplitting shriek met them. At the first hint of some light then, Scout scrambled off, mumbling something about sandwiches.
"Faaaaaaww..." Scout had chewed up Medic's leg. It was a grisly scene, and absolute proof Medic was in a comatose state now between Respawn and death, rather than drifting around. Medic did, however, stir a bit in his sleep.
"That's nasty... Well, we better call up RED Engineer to help heal him by repairing the damn piece of gravy." Sniper pulled out Pyro's cellular reception device, gently deployed it on the ground, and began trying to figure out how to use the technology.
After a little bit, louds of angry swearing, and maybe even several lengthy applications of fist-to-phone action, it managed to work. That is, for about a half second. Then it shorted out and exploded in his face.
"Ah... never needed that gravy piece anyway. Come on Pyro, we're going to conduct some field restoration to Medic's Medigun, since we can't contact anyone and the Dispenser is broken.
Another bit of tinnitus inducing insults, percussive usages of body parts, and many expletives ensued, along with some heavy questioning how Medic always got it to work. He even repeated Medic's "medick!" shouts. Then, Sniper put it down.
"Ah, that gravy holder can go rot. We're going to do this the old fashion way!" Sniper exulted. "Everyone knows that an apple a day keeps a doctor... Hmmm... what was it? Oh, yeah, from dying!" Sniper shoved an apple down Medic's throat. Pyro looked down at the Medic for a moment, back at Sniper, and then gave him a thumbs up. He did add his own personal touch to it by lighting the apple on fire though.
"Fell, fe feems fo fe zine."
"I wonder what it's like for him in there."
Medic started acting up then.
As he was rolling around, he screeched something about "medick!" and "octorocks" or "sausages".
Sniper began shoving more apples down his throat.
"Here, mate, have some apples! More apples!"
Medic's POV, a bit earlier
Ohhhh... my... my... head?
Where am I?
Where is Medick?
There seem to be some clouds around... it's bright... sunny, fine. WHAT?
I AM IN THE AIR!
Ahhhhhh! Damn it! No! Activate Oktorockets!
Medic's rocket boosters, mounted into his Medipack, jutted out and began to stabilize him.
Well... then...
Wait, I don't need these rockets!
He threw them off
I CAN FLYYYYYYYYYYY!
Oh hohohohoh!
This.. is... amazing!
What? CHICKEN!
Medic dived into a pile of crusty chicken and began eating them even faster than Heavy on Sandviches
A half second... and a thousand delicious meals. Strange mealy, dusty applelike taste for one of them though. Bad one there.
Medic burped
Ahh... the only thing that could this better is...
Sniff, sniff
If... Medick... was here to...
Some strange bird noise was made, and a dove appeared in Medic's hands
Oh hohohoho! YES!
Now... we...
Medic sighted something
Could it be...
YES, YES.
IT IS!
OKTOBERFEST!
Medic flew to the ground and began having a good time
Wow! This is... so... AMAZING.
I want to try all the games! Drink all the beer! All the food! This...
He happily began waiting in line for some sausages and soup
Huh? Hey, that man looks kinda familiar.
Excuse me sir, I was just wondering
Wondering what?
Oh my God!
It was Soldier. The ground began to shrink and collapse around them. The line disappeared.
Ah! Does anybody else see this! Help me!
No. Hehehhe.
The sausage stand man motioned to him, and Medic flew toward him, hoping for protection.
But Engineer's head popped up behind him.
Where ya going son? Try mah molasses! They're mighty fine! Ya won't regret it!
No! no! no! I say no!
Luckily, Medic reached the sausage stand.
Then everything went dark.
When Medic woke again he felt relieved. Maybe it was all a dream. But he looked around, and he didn't seem to recognize his surroundings. He was probably in for some more crazy cracked things.
"Well, I guess it's what I get for abusing powerful phramaceutical drugs. Ah well."
He was propped up on a table. He climbed off slowly, dusted himself off, and tried to get his bearings.
The room was dusty and clear signs of age showed around. There were some furnishings here and there, like a loudly ticking clock and a nicely glowing fireplace. Then some music hit his ears.
He thought he could recall the tune; it seemed of haunting familiarity and so. Medic began floating off slowly, out of the room and into the hallway. The hallway was rather long and intimidating, but he drifted toward the music. He didn't know for how long this went, or for how long it played... indeed, time seemed to fade off in face of it. Then he reached the source of the tune. It finished just as he came in.
As soon as he had gone inside, the artist turned toward him. He..? she? it? was wearing some huge unfitting trench coat.
"Did you enjoy the piece, Medic?" The voice was dreamy and dazed him.
"Yes... I believe so..."
"Well then, I knew you would. You made it after all, you egomaniacal bastard." The thing twitched some form of smile at him, threw off its clothing, and revealed itself.
"Medick?"
"Indeed. I'd really rather prefer you call me Archimedes, however."
There was a short, awkward pause. Then Archimedes offered Medic a bowl of sausages.
"Thank you, but I am not..." A sudden hunger overtook Medic. "Actually, perhaps I am."
"I would imagine so," the abnormally large bird chirped. "You haven't had anything to eat since those men at the sausage stand went at you."
Medic just stared at him, dumbfounded.
"That was real?" He didn't seem to believe that, even though he had no trouble finding a giant bird playing twelve different intrustments simultaneously for a musical piece he'd somehow wrote but hadn't remembered believable.
"Yes... and I'm afraid..." Archimede's voice began dropping, and the room shifting..."That it's only going to get much, much worse."
"What? What is going on!"
Medic looked down at his bowl of food, and suddenly dropped it. His sausages had turned into apples, and were growing feet and slowing clawing toward him. Archimedes, no, Hitler/his father/all his childhood bullies/bad experiences cackled a wicked laugh. The bird was still there, but marginalized on the side of the foul apparition, crying for help.
"What's the matter Medic? Eat your apples! They're good for you!"
The room around him had changed to a strange half way land mix of his childhood home and a...
A... large chamber.
He knew what it was. A death chamber.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! NO!"
Medic's screams were not heard as the apples began filling the room to the brim.
Sniper looked up from his meal of gravy and billy goat. "What the...?" Medic had began convulsing violently and screaming something that he couldn't remotely understand, nor would he want to, for that matter. He didn't know what the hell to do, so he ran toward Pyro, who had taken shelter earlier inside a cave when night had started encroaching deeply.
"Pyro! Pyro! Get the bloody hell over here!"
"Fmm?" Pyro looked up over some charred bits of a bird tagged "Medick" and the Medigun.
"Fey! Fniper! Fi zigured fout fow fow fedigun forks!"
"No time for that mate! Medic is going all-gravy-in-hell insane!"
Pyro jumped up and they ran toward Medic. He was yelling incoherently to help save him and running blindly.
"Holy gravy! I wonder what's going on in his mind right now?"
"Foe fime fa fonder!"
"Right! The apples!"
Pyro pulled out a bag of strange items. Sniper ruffled through it until another green napsack inside was out of the bag. It was labeled "cat".
"Hum hmm... Now that the cat's out of the..."
"Zuck four fad fokes!"
"Okay then, mate! Apples for the doctor! Pile 'em in, don't stop!"
"Fi fink fe fight fe furting fim!"
"Yeah..."
Suddenly, Medic's body went limp.
"Ah... well, let's hope he'll Respawn then, right?"
"Feaaah..."
As they walked off, they didn't notice the sinister forces in the Great Dustbowl beginning to work on the fastly fading cadaver. The same forces that had affected the Scout to eat the Medic earlier.
The chewed tissue on Medic began repairing itself. And Medic began twitching.
"Ah, this place is going to the gravy pile anyway," Sniper quipped.
Here's what I'd imagine the music piece Archimedes played to be... /watch?v=EMKVimjOId0