Gray Mann hated snivellers.
Ass-kissers? Fine. Yes-men? Acceptable; he dealt with them on a daily basis. But snivellers?
He was tired of hearing about how many children they had, how many animals they saved from burning buildings, how many awards they won for nose-picking competitions, and how much they wanted to live. The worst part was, they probably knew he didn't care. Nonetheless, they clung to their pathetic lives like limpets, and begging for mercy was the only thing they knew to do anyway.
But somehow, this particular prisoner was worse.
He turned towards the TFC Pyro, a heavyset woman with white hair. "Unmuzzle the prisoner."
She smiled, complying wordlessly. The prisoner in question was the last intelligent person that stood in front of his impending Mann Co. takeover: the legislator.
"You filthy, incontinent old bastard!"
The TFC Demoman and Engineer stifled their giggles. Gray Mann shot them a withering glare.
"Silence," he said. He had no anger left to waste on this after thirty hours of this constant abuse. "If you continue to resist, I'm afraid that you are of no use to me, and I will have to have you killed." He drummed his paper-white, spidery fingers on the interrogation desk. "Is that understood?"
The captive glared as well as his eyes, nearly swollen shut, allowed him. "Fuck you, you desiccated sack of horse manure! I fart in your general direction! I – "
Gray Mann nodded at the TFC Heavy, turned on his heel and strode out of the dimly lit room.
A silenced gunshot.
In the hall outside, the TFC Scout was chatting in hushed tones with the TFC Spy.
"I still don't know why he's so keen on taking over Mann Co. I mean, sure you might think you should own it, but make a robot army? It just seems excessive!"
"Don't you know that corporations run the world now? Mann Co. is perhaps one of the most if not the most influential companies, globally and locally. Have you seen its annual income reports? It makes sense to expend a little effort for that."
"Whatever. I'm no fiscal genius, but I still think that a company that sells hats and jars of piss – wait, what was that?"
Gray Mann appeared behind them. "The prisoner has been eliminated. Dispose of him." He walked away. "The Heavy will give you your new assignment."
They turned. The burly TFC mercenary in question smiled, revealling a row of blunt, yellowing teeth. "We're going to go hunting for some new meat. You in?"
It was a rhetorical question. Of course they were in.
Writer's scribblings:
To understand this plot, you must have knowledge of the general storyline. I trust that most of you do. If you haven't read the Team Fortress comics, what are you waiting for? Go read them! They're hilarious!
(Maybe you should also read Team Fortress 2 is Weird. It's less funny, but you may need it to understand some of my in-jokes. ._.)
Since two people blinked no, I have to deliver. If this is unsatisfactory, No-Blinkers, please vent your hatred in the form of either private messages or reviews if you wish to flag it publicly as objectionable.
The rest of this story will be funny, I promise, and the regular chapters will be longer. I am trying to emulate the tone of the comics, which is generally funny but gets serious at times (often with Gray Mann/Administrator stuff). I will (boringly) follow canon. I will continue to steal Monty Python jokes.
Signed,
I've no clue what I am doing