It was high noon at the Badwater Basin. Only the Administrator's booming voice was heard throughout the area, slowly counting down to one. "Mission begins in thirty seconds." In the RED spawn room, the team was making the final preparations for the battle. Medic had his Medigun to full charge, and the Heavy was spinning up his gun. The spook was in the corner, finishing his cigarette. Pyro and the Demoman were both checking their weapons. The Soldier was standing at attention, and the Scout was limbering up. The Engineer was already constructing his first sentry. And the Sniper was by himself, polishing his gun, aligning the scope, and making sure his weapon was in working order. "Five, four, three, two, one..." The siren sounded and the gates opened. The Heavy and the Medic roared out of spawn, followed by the Demo and Pyro. Sniper snuck out through a more discreet route, towards his favourite perch.
The battle was nearly over. The BLUs didn't have enough time to get the cart to the objective, and the RED team was providing more than a solid resistance. Sniper let loose a round, and could've sworn he heard the BLU Medic scream as he dropped, a neat hole in his head. His medigun fell to the ground, the light dying even as the azure beam started to pulse with the glow of an übercharge. The Pyro he was following careened around the corner, right into the embrace of a quadruplet of sentry rockets. He died surprised, wondering where his Medic was. Sniper chuckled. There was a minute left on the clock. The RED team had won the day. But that didn't mean the killing wasn't still going on. The BLU Spy faded into visibility behind the Australian. Within a second, the spook had jerked the Sniper's head back, and put his knife to the bushman's jugular. The Sniper leered at the BLU devil as he snickered. Suddenly, a shout sounded from behind the pair. It sounded like Sniper, but... it was something else entirely.
"TEA-RATE!" came the yell, in the same style that the Sniper would have called when he was throwing his signature Jarate. The Spy was immediately covered in a brown liquid. He screamed with disgust, and dematerialised. The Sniper dropped to the ground as the soaked figure bolted away. When he opened his eyes, he saw himself, standing over him. Which wasn't unusual. There was sometimes a duplicate of one of the team members, being controlled by an outsider wishing to join the battle. But it was different this time. The man standing over him was wearing a bowler hat, not the Sniper's trademark slouch hat. He had on a hiking pack, similar to the Siper's Cozy Camper, but with a few subtle differences. Instead of a koala holding the Australian flag, the Sniper could see a lion holding a white flag with a red cross on it. As the stranger helped him to his feet, the bushman saw that the vest he was wearing was not made out of crocodile leather like his was, but was the upper part of a tuxedo. "Thanks for that. Now oo' the bloody 'ell are ya?" questioned the Sniper. "I'm the BritSniper, right, 'oo the hell are yer?" the stranger said in a cockney accent. The Australian stared with bemusement. The more he looked, the more he saw. The jar that the British man carried was filled with brown liquid, which could only be tea, from an urn on his back. The flag the lion in the pack carried was the flag of England. A small keychain proved, on closer inspection, to be a miniature of the TARDIS from Doctor Who. The man was, in short, a walking microcosm of England. He even had a multicoloured scarf around his neck, which, as far as the Australian Sniper knew, belonged to the Fourth Doctor. The bell and victory tone sounded, even as the BritSniper started to say "Well, are we gonna just stand 'ere or are we gonna do sumfink?" Sniper cocked his head towards the RED base. "Come on. Th' guys are gonna love this..."
