I'll Give You Green.
Author Chick's Notes: …Annie is solely to blame for this…I have had several ideas running around for ages trying to explain why Blowtorch has that accent in the cartoon…thanks a bloody lot =ppppp Yes, my Glenda is the Irish one, Jane Mulligan, from the Action Force set. And yes, I'm making Blowtorch Scots for this…you'll see why.
I'll Give You Green.
A new month meant a new page of the calendar. He flipped the page and scowled. March. It meant that the crazy demands would be made…again…by the team's worst practical joker. Blowtorch was not Irish, but his accent was close enough that every year he was asked to do something utterly mad for the holiday by Airtight. Why Airtight never bothered Scarlet or Glenda on St Patrick's Day was beyond him. At least they were Irish.
After having laced up his boots, Blowtorch went for breakfast. He got to the door of the mess hall and started the timer on his watch. The old record was five minutes and twenty three seconds. It was about to be shattered.
"Hey Blowtorch!" Airtight called out.
Blowtorch glanced at his teammate before replying. "Aye?"
"St Patty's is only…" Blowtorch didn't hear the rest of the statement. He stopped the timer on his watch and scowled. Forty two seconds. "…So what do you think?"
"The same thing I think every year ye ask…nay!" Blowtorch replied as he got a cup of coffee and joined Glenda and a few others at a table.
Glenda looked at Blowtorch before turning to Airtight. "He's Scots, nay Irish lad." She pointed out. Blowtorch looked at her from across the table.
"Dinnea matter to this lot." He mumbled, resting his chin in his hand.
"Well it's close enough." Airtight blurted out. The two at the table looked to each other before Glenda voiced her disagreement. Blowtorch just took a sip of coffee and let the woman have at it.
"Tis nay anywhere near bloody close!" Glenda started.
Airtight listened to her rant before adding his two cents worth as to why Blowtorch, not either of the two women would be perfect for the scheme he had in mind. "The accent sounds the same to the untrained ear…ie: any average American. And he's got red hair!"
"Scarlet's is redder then mine." Blowtorch offered between sips of coffee.
"Yeah but she looks lousy in a false beard." Airtight added.
"Yer bloody mad!" Glenda said, tossing her hands in the air in defeat. "I give up with ye, yer hopeless!"
At another table Scarlet just whistled and twiddled her thumbs. Like Blowtorch she'd seen this every year since the team formed. Glenda was usually away when the Irish themed holiday rolled around, so this was her first time experiencing what the two Joes dealt with every year.
An air raid siren sounded before any further comment could be made and everyone dashed to his or her respective stations. Glenda came out just in time to see her chopper being blow to bits by the COBRA air forces. Glaring at the flaming rubble she made for one of the sky strikers instead. It didn't take long for her to get airborne and return the favour to COBRA. "Shove that up yer after burners ye bastards!" She cursed as she shot a rattler out of the sky.
On the ground Blowtorch barely missed becoming a bloody stain on the tarmac from a COBRA missile. "Right." Like Glenda, the morning's conversation had gotten his blood boiling. "See how ye like this." He commented as he hid and waited for one of the rattlers to come within range of his flamethrower. After a few moments one did come within range, much to the pilot's dismay. Blowtorch set one of the plane's engines ablaze only to have it crash a few hundred metres away.
As fast as they had appeared, the COBRA forces retreated. The Joes met up to count their losses and capture any downed COBRA pilots. Blowtorch came limping up with one of the pilots that had landed near him. Roadblock and Lifeline rushed to the two, Roadblock to take over the handling of the prisoner and Lifeline to tend to Blowtorch. Shrapnel from the plane he'd downed had slashed his leg wide open and he was quickly loosing a lot of blood. The medic caught him as he slipped into unconsciousness and fell forward.
Doc looked up when he heard moaning from the bed. There was only one patient still in the infirmary. All the others who had been wounded were lucky; their wounds were superficial at best. In the lone occupied bed, Blowtorch was slowly waking to a world of pain. It was dark in the room and he took a moment to try and figure out what had happened. It wasn't until Doc stepped into his range of sight that Blowtorch knew where he was.
"I still gotta leg?" Blowtorch mumbled in the dark.
"You feel intense pain?" Doc asked.
"Aye."
"Then you still have a leg." Doc smiled in the dark. Doc went on to explain what had happened when Blowtorch's stomach growled. "It's three in the morning, I take it you haven't eaten in a while." Doc commented dryly as he stepped out of sight for a moment before coming back with a light snack for his patient. The two talked for a little longer, Doc explaining that Blowtorch would be kept in the infirmary for a few days until it was clear that all signs of infection were gone. Blowtorch was about to complain when he yawned instead, the drugs were taking effect and Blowtorch was quickly succumbing to the urge to sleep.
It was the following morning when Blowtorch awoke again. The first thing he saw was Airtight sitting nearby talking to someone he couldn't see. Airtight turned when he heard mumbling from the bed and grinned. After confirming that Blowtorch was alright, Airtight started in on his pleas for St Patrick's Day. Blowtorch was about to argue against the idea when they were interrupted.
"Airtight?" Lifeline called out. When the medic saw that he was being ignored, he called a little louder. "Airtight!"
"Huh wha?"
"That's enough." Lifeline stated. "Blowtorch needs time to rest."
"Yeah okay, just a second." Airtight replied, starting up again.
"AIRTIGHT!" Airtight looked up and grinned sheepishly.
"Eh heh, okay…Uh see ya around buddy." Airtight told Blowtorch as he all but ran from the infirmary.
Blowtorch looked at the gentle medic in awe. "How'd ye do tha?"
Lifeline tapped the rim of his glasses and smirked. "The old 'teacher' look gets them every time." He laughed. He then demonstrated what he meant by looking at Blowtorch over the frames of his glasses and frowning. Blowtorch chuckled and commented that maybe he should get his eyes checked. "You passed your last eye exam with flying colours." Lifeline commented as he added a mild pain killer to Blowtorch's IV.
"How come Airtight doesn't get the hint that you're from Scotland and not Ireland?" Lifeline asked.
"I'm originally from Florida." Blowtorch replied as he shifted a little to get more comfortable.
"Huh?"
Blowtorch chuckled, he always got the same response whenever he mentioned where he was born. "Me Da is from Scotland. He came to Tampa to go to school and met me Mum." He started. "They met, fell in love, had me, graduated, and then got married." He laughed. "And then Da packed Mum and me up and took us to Glasgow and tha's where I grew up."
Lifeline thought for a second as he got the story in order. "So how old were you when you moved to Scotland?" He asked, taking a seat next to the bed.
"About six months I think. I was just a wee bairn when we moved to Glasgow." Blowtorch replied. "I got dual citizenship though because of me parents." He added.
"How come you just didn't join the British military then?" Lifeline asked, thinking it odd that Blowtorch would come to the States instead.
Blowtorch laughed. "Da was terrified they'd ship me off to 'Derry for me first duty." He started. He added that his parents feared for his life if he had ended up in the Northern Ireland city, infamous for its ongoing bloody battle for independence. "So I figured that if I have dual citizenship, why nay come here and join up?" Lifeline commented that that made a little more sense before Blowtorch continued. "Me parent's biggest fear has always been getting a wee box with what's left of me after I stumbled onto an IRA bomb."
"They aren't as concerned about what you get into here?" Lifeline asked, raising an eyebrow.
Blowtorch thought about it for a moment before answering. "They are to an extent, mainly because I'm so far away now."
The two talked some more before Lifeline changed the subject. "You're on medical leave for at least a month until your leg heals…Airtight is going to nag you to death about whatever hair brained scheme he has in mind." Lifeline warned.
Blowtorch frowned as he took the news in. Lifeline watched, as Blowtorch would think of something then dismiss it. Suddenly a slow smile bloomed on the man's lips and Lifeline hung is head. "Whatever it is…DON'T tell me!" Lifeline pleaded. "My conscious wouldn't be able handle it if I knew." He laughed.
"Nay I canna be tha cruel." Blowtorch grinned as his idea slowly began to take shape in his mind. "If this dinnea get Airtight to shut up once and fer all I dinnea ken what will."
A week before St. Patrick's, Blowtorch was released from the infirmary. He'd had plenty of time to formulate his plan and now all he needed to do was get everything ready. He'd been given a cane to help him walk around on his injured leg and it had given him another idea to add to his growing plan. Hobbling over to the women's dormitory and assuring the guard on duty that he only wanted to talk to one of the residents, he was soon at Glenda's door.
Glenda welcomed him into her room and he took a seat on her bed. "How's the leg?" She asked as she made him a cup of tea.
"Fine, I'll be good to go in another few weeks." Blowtorch thanked her for the tea and they talked for a few minutes. "I been meanin' to ask ye…can I borrow tha?" He asked, pointing to the gnarled walking stick leaning in one corner.
Glenda looked at the stick before turning back to Blowtorch. "Sure. Mind me askin' ye why?"
Blowtorch just narrowed his eyes and smirked at her. Glenda raised an eyebrow when he curled his finger at her in a motion to come sit down next to him. "Yer gonna love this one." He cackled as he leaned in to whisper his idea to her. Glenda clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud as Blowtorch told her his idea. By the time he was done filling her in, she had fallen backwards and was howling in laughter on the bed. "So what do ye think?" Blowtorch grinned down at her.
"Ye are wicked!" She admonished.
"Nay, I just have a well hidden vindictive streak is all." Blowtorch grinned.
Glenda looked up at him from the bed and giggled. "I only have one request?"
"Aye."
"Can I please help ye do this?" She asked.
Blowtorch took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. "I though ye'd nay ask, lass." Glenda tried a few times to sit up before finally succeeding. She got up and went to her desk to get a measuring tape.
"I take it, ye'll be needing an outfit for this right?" She asked. When Blowtorch said he did she asked to take his measurements.
"The best I can do is darn me socks and reattach a button, I'm assuming then ye can sew?" He asked as she knelt behind him to measure his shoulders.
"Oh aye, I could knit the whole bleeding thing in a few days if I wanted to." She laughed. "Me domestic skills are only a tad shy of me flying ones." She added. After she had gotten his upper measurements she looked down at his injured leg. "I suppose I could ask ye the rest of it. No need to make ye stand. What's yer inseam?" She asked, ready to jot down the numbers he gave her.
"Thirty-two."
"Yer waist?"
Thirty- one."
"Yer rise?"
"Me what?" Blowtorch asked looking at her in confusion.
"Yer rise…the…oh never mind. Stand up a sec would ye?" She asked, She helped him stand and got the measuring tape in between his legs.
"Och now! I promised the guard out front no funny stuff!" Blowtorch blushed as Glenda got the measurement she needed.
"Hush yeself." She admonished, slapping his shoulder. "Here, let me help ye." She offered as she helped Blowtorch sit back down on the bed.
"If'n I'd wanted to get accosted I'd have gone next door." Blowtorch jerked a thumb behind him as Glenda dug around in her closet for something.
Glenda looked back at him from the closet. "What? Jonesy?" She asked. Blowtorch nodded with a grin and she clicked her tongue. "We have to do something about yer taste in women lad." She teased as she searched in her closet again. "Ah gotcha!" She exclaimed, pulling a bolt of bright green linen and another of a dark coloured satin from the closet.
"Ye've got to be kiddin' me? Ye already have material?" Blowtorch asked in amazement.
"For something else entirely different, I swear!" Glenda explained as she unrolled the material on the floor to see if she had enough. "Could you hand me that roll of paper next to the bed?" She asked, pointing to her bedside. Blowtorch handed it over and she began unfurling it as well. "Right now…" She rose to her knees and looked around for a moment. "Ah perfect!" She said, snatching a pencil off her desk.
Blowtorch watched in awe as she would look around for something then snatch it up. "Ye mind if I get comfortable here?" He asked after a moment.
Glenda glanced up at him for a second . "Nah go ahead." Blowtorch shifted so he was laying down and continued to watch in fascination as Glenda began tracing a pattern on the paper. "Now where'd I put me shears?" She asked as she rose again to her knees to look for them. Blowtorch spotted them on the nightstand next to him and handed them over. "Ta!" Glenda thanked him and cut her patterns out.
Within half an hour she had the paper patterns pinned to the material and began cutting them out. Satisfied, Glenda began pinning the pieces together into a crude jacket and trousers. She went over to a shrouded form near her desk and revealed a sewing machine. After getting it ready with the right coloured thread she began sewing. It only had taken her a few hours and she was ready to fit the jacket to Blowtorch.
Blowtorch had nodded off while she was sewing so she had to wake him. "I take it the pain meds are a real doozy?" She asked as Blowtorch rubbed sleep from his eyes.
"Aye," He yawned. "They're part of me plan." He winked as Glenda fitted the jacket to him. After she pinned a few areas for tucking, she removed the jacket and went back to her sewing machine. "Mind if I use the loo?" Blowtorch asked. Glenda pointed to where it was and he excused himself. After finishing up in the bathroom, Blowtorch made it back to the bed and carefully lay back down.
Later that evening, Glenda had gotten the entire ensemble together. "I just need a zipper for the trousers and a few buttons…" She looked at a pile of cloths she had sitting nearby. "Hang on a sec." She said as she picked a sweater up. "These'd be perfect!" Glenda popped the antique looking buttons from the sweater and tried them out on the buttonholes she'd sewn into the jacket. "Aye, perfect." She grinned. After assuring Blowtorch she was going to alter the sweater anyway, she quickly attached the buttons to the jacket. "Here, try this?"
Blowtorch took off his sweat pants and tee shirt and got ready to try on the suit Glenda had fashioned for him when the door opened. Scarlet had knocked and walked in. She blushed when she saw Blowtorch in just his boxer shorts and Glenda fussing over him. "I am so sorry!" Scarlet apologized as she was about to turn and leave.
"It's nay what ye think." Glenda assured her teammate as she helped Blowtorch get into the trousers.
"Aye. Jane's just helping me out with a wee plan I have." Blowtorch grinned as he slipped the jacket on. He told Scarlet about his idea and she was soon howling in laughter. Blowtorch turned to check his reflection in the mirror. "Wow, this is great, Jane! Thank ye so much."
"Yer welcome. I assume ye have a dress shirt for this?" She asked as she adjusted a few things here and there.
"Aye, the only thing I'm missing is the bowtie and the derby." He replied. Glenda held up a green length of fabric she had sewn together with the rest of the suit.
"There's yer tie." She smirked as she held it around his neck to see if she got the length right. Scarlet snapped her fingers and dashed off for a moment.
She came back with several green derbies she had left over from the previous Kentucky Derby. "And one of these should work for the derby!" They tried a few until they found one that fit. Glenda said she'd alter it a little and told Scarlet all she needed now was a zipper for the pants.
"Hold that thought." Scarlet left the room again. "Hey Jaye?" The two heard her call out. While Scarlet was gone, Glenda helped Blowtorch out of the suit and back into his sweats. Scarlet and Lady Jaye entered just as he was pulling his tee shirt back on. Lady Jaye whistled her appreciation and got glared at by Blowtorch.
Lady Jaye had brought a basket with her and soon she was searching through it for a zipper. "Eight inch green…eight inch green…" She went through several sorted bundles before she came up with one in the right length. "That should do it, pick a colour." She said, tossing the bundle to Glenda.
As the women fussed over the suit, Blowtorch lay back down and was soon fast asleep. Glenda turned to him to announce that the suit was done when she noticed he was dead to the world. "The poor thing." She whispered softly. The trio managed to get Blowtorch to move enough so they could place the covers over him and let him sleep.
With a final fitting the next day and some help from Cover Girl, Blowtorch was ready to unleash his plan on Airtight. The night before the holiday, the men were gathered in the lounge of their barracks when Airtight started up yet again in his attempts to get Blowtorch to cooperate. Blowtorch successfully ignored the pleas, and when Airtight wasn't looking, slipped a little bit of his pain medication into Airtight's drink. Not enough to knock him out completely, just enough that Airtight would have trouble believing what he'd see later that night.
It was roughly two in the morning when Airtight felt something hard knock him on the head. He'd been having some wild vivid dreams, thanks to the drug Blowtorch had slipped him and took a little longer then normal to wake up. When he did however, he fought back the urge to scream. Standing in the moonlight was a creature from his nightmares. A demonic looking leprechaun was leering down at him. Blowtorch was eternally grateful that the makeup and false beard Cover Girl had applied hid his features entirely. Airtight didn't recognize his teammate as the thing standing over him.
Blowtorch had also changed his voice and accent a little, to further throw Airtight off. "Now Laddie." Blowtorch began. He had to fight the urge to laugh as he continued with his prank. "What's this I hear ye doing, trying to get some Scotsman do play me part?" Blowtorch growled in a thick Irish brogue. Airtight had sweat pouring down his forehead as he backed up against the headboard of his bed.
"Well ye coward?" Blowtorch asked, rapping Airtight on the head again with the borrowed walking stick. Airtight tried to reply but ended up stammering instead. "It was wrong!" Blowtorch lurched towards Airtight as he bellowed it. "Now ye must pay with yer soul!" Airtight lost his battle with his will and screamed at the top of his lungs. Clawing his way out of bed, Airtight raced off outside and into the cold spring night, still screaming in terror.
Several of Airtight's neighbours had been woken up by the screaming and came to investigate. What they found was Blowtorch, taking off the beard and howling in laughter. It didn't take to long to figure out what had happened. At the end of the hall, a door opened and Law and his dog Order came through.
"Hey …what the hell is going on here?" Law asked as he tried to figure out the scene in front of him. Order cocked his head and made a sound of confusion as the two got a good look at Blowtorch. "I just got a call from Mutt saying Airtight had an intruder?" Law added, sounding utterly confused.
"Nay, not an intruder, just a nightmare." Blowtorch laughed as he turned and went towards his room.
"Some nightmare." Law joked when it dawned on him what had most likely happened.
Blowtorch turned back to the MP and smirked. "That'll teach the lad to mess with the wee folk." The others gathered in the hall laughed as Blowtorch hobbled towards his room. Airtight meanwhile wound up sleeping with the lights on for a few nights afterwards. Everyone who knew what had happened had agreed to not enlighten the practical joker as to what had really invaded his room that night..