But a Letter: What if Simmons went through with a threat to change Grif into a 'female' in the Red Army's records while deleting the Blues? It is but a letter. Hilariousness, for everyone but Grif, ensues. S6.
Disclaimer: If only, if only the plot bunny sings
Image: Red Vs Blue by CaptiansFolly.
Proofreader: Kira Kyuu.
Rating: Teen.
…
What is a letter? What is a letter?
A little frittle-frattle and just a little hate,
One might find themselves in an very awkward place.
…
"You wouldn't dare."
"Oooh, yes I would. That would teach your lazy ass!"
"Didn't Sarge give you something better to do than fuck with my personal records," grumbled Grif as he glared at the maroon soldier, light reflecting off the two Reds as they stood before the console at Command. The group of Reds was waiting for Washington's sign … and trying not to break anything too important in the meantime.
"Do I honestly look like a Gracie Lou Freebush to you?" said Grif sarcastically as he watched Simmons type over Dexter Grif in his personnel files. "If you are going to give me a chick's name, at least make it something classy … like Vivian Ward."
For a moment there was an awkward silence, Simmons just staring at Grif and Grif just staring at Simmons. It was as if they were thinking the same thing. The silence might have lasted forever, an eternity of Red facing down Red in an epic stalemate of a staring that no one would ever be able to win because they both had helmets on. And they were both idiots, but what else was new?
"I can't believe I'm saying this … but I think I actually miss Donut," admitted Grif, much to his own horror.
The maroon soldier's shoulders dripping down slightly, Simmons agreed, "Yeah, I miss him too … even with all the romance comedies."
There was another silence, before Simmons turned his attention back to the screen, stating, "Well, that settles it. Meadow-Star Prudance Gaylord will be your new name Grif. I hope you enjoy being tacky."
"What kind of name is that?" interrupted Grif, his voice whining. "Is Meadow-Star even a real name? Isn't that more like two names? For that matter a chicks name? It sounds like the name to an incense more than a person."
"We have chickens. I love chickens. They are fluffy and poop out Easter eggs."
For a moment the two red soldiers stood very still, staring at the screen as if too horrified to turn around, but slowly they both did staring in little to no surprise at the only blue in the immediate area: Caboose.
"Hi. Where are the chickens?"
Grif could basically feel the slow grin consuming the other Red's face under his helmet and he automatically stated, "No. No. NO. NO!"
"Hey Caboose," said Simmons, ignoring the slightly squeaky tone Grif's voice had picked up. "What kind of girly name do you think Grif should have? I like Meadow-Star Prudance Gaylord? How about you?"
Caboose stood there, helmet slightly titled up as if he was thinking. Then, he simply stated, "I like the name Bambi. It is a pretty name. My mom had that name and she was very popular. She liked dancing. She danced a lot with a guy named Pole."
Simmons actually snorted at that, Grif wondering if he could get over his laziness enough to actually smack the maroon soldier with the butt of his gun. In the end, he could not gather the energy and instead turned his attention to Caboose.
"Did you just say what I think you said?" asked Grif, not really that surprised given his own mother.
"I … don't know. Did I say something?"
The two Reds stared at the Blue for a moment, Simmons finally interrupted, "You know what. I really like Bambi or how about Candy? Yeah, Candy. Classy."
"Wait …" said Caboose, as if his brain had finally caught up to him; the Blue stood there a moment staring at the two Reds as if he had just understood the meaning of the universe and was blown away by an incomprehensible truth. "Oh … my … god. Are you saying Tucker was lying to me?! The yellow armored one is a girl?! Tucker said that just because you were yellow, did not make you a girl, but I knew you were a girl because girls like the color yellow. And, you have a very pretty voice."
Simmons actually started cough-laughing in his helmet and Grif was left there standing, completely still in horror.
"B-b-but I'm orange! Oooorange. And-and I totally sound like I guy! Don't I sound like a guy Simmons?" said Grif, his voice rising a few octaves.
Simmons was now leaning against console, try to keep in his laughter as choked chuckles escaped his helmet. This, of course, gained the attention of Sarge, and the older soldier walked over to the three, staring as Simmons clutched his sides trying to breathe and not laugh hysterically at the same time.
"What the Sam-Hill is going on here? Simmons! Don't you have a job to do soldier! We have to delete those damn dirty Blues, and you," said Sarge as he turned his attention to the only Blue in their company. "Didn't we tell you to go other there and stare out that window or something?"
Caboose, as distracted as ever, merely said, "Okay."
"And you, scumbag, stop distracting Simmons or it's a shotgun to the face!" threatened Sarge to the still flabbergast simulation soldier. "In fact, you should stand by the door like a living meat shield. That way, when we are finally discovered, your screams of a horrific and grizzly death will give us the few precious seconds we need for a head start so we can make a valiant escape!"
Grif sighed as he glared at the maroon soldier that was slowly collecting himself, "Yes sir. I'll go stand by the stupid door. Maybe I can even catch a nap before we all die."
Then, almost as if on cue to ignore any irritating wait time that the narrator might have been too lazy to find something to fill with, an alarm rang throughout the base.
"Does anyone else hear that?" asked Caboose.
"Yes. We hear it Caboose," said Grif as he backed away from the door he had been readying himself to nap against.
"Simmons, did you do that?"
Humming for a moment, Simmons answered, "I don't think so. Hope not."
"Um, Red guys," said Caboose as he watched a white armored guy start running toward the building they were held up in. "Uhm, white guys are coming? Aaand, they look mad."
Suddenly, the building shook, dust and cement raining down on them in little flakes, the sounds of grenades and gunfire echoing in the background.
"Really mad."
"Grif, close those shutters!"
"On it!" replied Grif.
Getting back on the ball, Simmons hands racing over the keyboard like the true dork he was, he turned to Sarge and squeaked, "Here, I got it! This is every bit of information about the Blues and their soldiers!"
Coming up behind the brownnoser, Simmons quickly dragged Grif's files into a tab, showing only the gathered data on the Blues as he delightfully answered, "Here, I got it! This is every bit of information about the Blues and their soldiers."
"Can you erase it?"
Titling his head, dwelling on it for perhaps a moment, Simmons answered, "I can, but Sarge maybe we should think about this for a moment. What happens if we deleted the Blues?"
Not even missing a beat, Sarge interrupted, "It means they never existed. Yoink!"
A moment later, BLUES DELETED, flashed across the screen.
Simmons, his speech about what it meant to be Red and what it meant to be Blue killed before he could even clear his throat, choked suddenly, "S-sir! But…"
"Enough shortcakes. We need to get moving, get ready for battle, kill us some nonexistent Blues," chuckled Sarge at the last line. "Now, get off that computer, numb nuts. It's a good time to die!"
Simmons watched Sarge cock his shotgun and found himself stalling before he could step away from the console, his mind going back to their personal profiles. He really didn't have time to decide and change Grif's name, but with all the crap that Grif put him through, he deserved something done to him. He really did, that cockbite.
Smiling wickedly, yelling back a 'yes sir' at his commanding officer, knowing that Sarge would likely approve, he let his finger hit the backspace button and with the utmost enthusiasm one could put into an index finger, he hit the F button under the sex category.
Thus, Private Dexter Grif became female … at least in Command's records. Was it for better or worse, at that moment the maroon solider would be unable to say, but fuck it, they were probably all going to die anyway.
XXX
Paw07: You know, for all the times I've been on this site I have never made a collection of one-shots. It never peaked my fancy and yet in the middle of the night when I should have been sleeping, I was hit with the idea: what if Simmons had messed with Grif's files while deleting the Blues? And though I have no real plans of their being any real pairings in this right now, it does promise to be hilarious.
(Revisions August 2016)