"Soap, go plant the charges."
"Soap, follow me."
"Soap, clear the building."
"Soap, take out those hostiles."
"Soap, check those corners!"
It was only a matter of time before he snapped.

"Soap, go get the stinger from the barn and shoot down that helicopter!" Captain Price barked.
So he did. For about half an hour, he ran circles around the barn, trying to get the damn stinger to lock on onto the helicopter whilst getting shot at. Finally, he managed to get two solid hits and it crashed in some field nearby.
"Good job, Soap." Price said, patting him on the shoulder. "Now let's go."
Soap stood there as the rest of the group (which by the way, somehow grew) began to leave the barn. He just shot down a helicopter and saved their asses! He's the F.N.G.! He's not supposed to be doing the important things!
But nonetheless, he set down the missile launcher, grabbed his rifle and followed the rest of the group.
"Soap, up front!"
He sighed.

"Soap, call in the airstrike on that building."
"Isn't that your job, Captain?"
"I said do it!"

"Soap, activate the charges in those buildings."
"Okay, who's coming with me?"
"What are you talking about? You don't need someone to help you."
"Sir, we are heavily outnumbered and the enemy is surrounding the building where the activators are." Soap explained. "It's highly advisable that I go with someone as the likelihood of me getting killed is very high."
"Stop being such a muppet and just go do it."
"Uh, but, urgh, fine."

"Soap, do this because I'm bored."
Soap paused and set down his rifle. He turned toward Captain Price and stared at him through his gas mask. "Captain, with all due respect-"
"Don't argue with me." Price said gruffly. "I'm your commanding officer and you'll do as I say!"
Soap sighed as he trudged off to jog a lap around the ICBM nuclear missile facility.

When he returned, Gaz came to greet him. "Tired?"
Soap glared at him, though he couldn't see. "Nope, not a least bit tired." He said sarcastically as he panted loudly and conspicuously.
Gaz brightened. "Great! Then you can go ahead and be our point man. Go on, Soap." He shoved him to the front of the group. Picking up his weapon, he led the group into the facility, receiving all of the first shots from the enemy. Wonderful.

"Soap, take out those BMPs!" Captain Price yelled as he shot some useless suppressing shots against the tanks.
"How?!"
Gaz decided to chip in some advice. "Use C4 or an RPG!"
"Throw smoke before you approach it!" Griggs added helpfully.
Soap rolled his eyes as he watched his allies hide behind cover while he went to risk his ass to destroy three tanks.
And so, he threw smoke, planted C4 on one tank, blew it up, ran to the other tank, planted C4, nearly got run over by said tank and nearly killed himself trying to run and blow it up at the same time.

"Soap, upload the abort codes."
That was the last straw.
"You know what Captain Price," Soap said, tossing down his rifle, "I'm sick of your crap!"
"Soap, you can be sick of his crap later, just upload the codes first!" Gaz said through their headset.
"NO, YOU LISTEN. You said 'Soap, do this', 'Soap, do that', 'Soap, do this because I'm bored' this entire campaign and for what? Because you were too lazy to get off your damn arse to do it yourself!" Soap shouted. The other SAS looked at each other anxiously.
"The F.N.G. is loony." One muttered to his buddy.
"Why do I have to do everything? I'm the new guy! I'm supposed to be picked on and shunned! But no, you wankers tell me to do all of the important things. Like this. You know the bloody abort codes, you do it!"
Price decided to speak up. "Okay Soap. Let's be rational. We'll talk after you upload the codes."
"The whole point of this thing is about how I have to do every goddamn thing for this team!"
"Just upload the damn thing and go with the plotline."
"Thirty seconds, Soap, do it before the missiles hit." Griggs said, now extremely nervous. Everyone stared at Soap. He sighed.
"Fine, FINE!" He began to type in the codes. "The lot of you are like a bunch of babies, I swear to god. Do this, do that, nyeh nyeh nyeh. There." He said as the computer accepted the codes. "Whoop-de-effing-do."
There was a sigh of relief. Captain Price walked up to Soap.
"Don't blame me, mate, blame the lot up there." He said, patting him on the back.
"What, are you trying to tell me that my life is dictated by a greater power now?"