Lunch break for most members of Task Force 141 at the base means gorging down food as fast as possible, followed by the coveted patting on the back for the winner of the speed eating contest. Captain MacTavish and Ghost usually eat at the officer table – no eating contest there – whilst the enlisted hang around at other tables. It's standard procedure, but MacTavish is more concerned about having to endure the music of jeering man-monkeys while he eats rather than maintaining his authority. It doesn't mean he's not interested in their discussions, though. He'll never admit it, but some of the topics they bring up are, dare he say, interesting.
"Royce, let me have your mag for a day," Meat says.
Royce scowls. "Fuck you, you'd ruin the pages. Besides, Shakira's on the cover." Royce dislikes sharing his magazines. He treats them with utmost care, never letting the pages get crumpled. One can say he's quite obsessed with them.
"Come on, Jessica Biel's way hotter," Meat responds, picking on a bone in his plate. "I'm telling ya, she's got a great ass."
"Suit yourself."
It seems like the enlisted men have run out of things to talk about. MacTavish casts curious glances at them every once in a while, ones that only Ghost noticed.
"Spirits not as high as usual today," Ghost murmurs. His captain grunts in agreement.
Roach enters the mess hall from the back door, late for lunch, with an item of interest tucked under his arm. Upon noticing Roach the enlisted table lights up with discussion and noise aimed at the magazine Roach is holding on to.
"Porn mag!" Meat yells enthusiastically.
"Show it, show it!" Archer pipes in.
Royce pumps his fists in the air. "Yeah!"
Roach simply slams the magazine on the enlisted table and flops on a chair.
"What, are you gay for Ewan McGregor now? Where all the ladies at?" Meat moans upon seeing the cover, as disappointed as the rest the group.
"No. All sold out," Roach mutters. A collective groaning from the table resonates throughout the mess hall. A few seconds of deep contemplation later, Royce makes a grab for the magazine and flips through the pages.
"Not bad...for guys," he says. Countering Meat's pointed look aimed at him, he shrugs and says, "Ewan's pretty..Jake Gyllenhaal's decent too."
Archer flicks Royce's ear. "Christ, why don't you just admit that you're fucking gay already?"
"Metrosexual," Roach cuts in.
"You gay too?" Archer asks.
"Just G.I. Curious," Roach shrugs innocently.
Meat snorts and says, "Since you admit that, I'm gonna say Donald Faison has a hot ass." Roach and Royce look at each other, then glance back to Meat before mumbling an almost inaudible 'Yeah'. Archer gives everyone at the table inquisitive looks before shaking his head and folding his arms.
"I wonder what Lieutenant Ghost likes in people," Roach mumbles. Archer swears Roach might or might not have wistfully sighed while saying that.
"He's an ass-man," Meat answers.
"No, he's a chest-man," Royce responds.
"He's an ass-man!"
"A chest-man!"
The man-monkeys strike a comeback, and they're off to another healthy discussion. At the officer table, though, Ghost rubs his throbbing temples while MacTavish snickers at him.
"So which one is it, Ghost?" his captain asks.
The Lieutenant shudders and manages a meek smile. "I like the bone structures most."
"Aye, I can see that."