AN: Alright, here goes, my first fanfiction. I hope everyone who reads it likes it, and I'm sorry for any typos I might have missed. I'm writing this casually, so I'm open to suggestions if anybody wants to share. I appreciate all comments except, of course, the rude ones. This story is just for fun. I'm sorry the first chapter is boring and short, but I promise the next ones will be better. Please tell me what you think!

No way, is it actually…? I use my shaking hand to grasp the dusty wind wrinkled paper before it could blow away again. An opening? I suck in a breath to help water down my stirring excitement that already began to fill my stomach and limbs. Calm down, I tell myself, it might not even be for-

WANTED: PYRO

It is! Still, maybe I'm not old enough, maybe it's like renting a car. I never checked for an age requirement, I'm only twenty four.

MUST BE:

At least 18 years of age

Able and willing to demonstrate skills with a flamethrower

Able and willing to fight under war-like situations effectively

Male

There's the kicker. I already knew that one, though. That's why if I want any chance of doing this thing, pyro is my only hope. It will be easy enough to hide my curves in that fire resistant suite. The amount of people skilled in using a flamethrower in combat is limited, making my top notch skills high on the wanted list. Yes, pyro is the perfect class for me.

The "war-like situation" kind of nags at me, though. Not surprisingly, I've never had the chance to practice my skills outside of my little training area behind my house. I guess I'll see if I'm up to the task when I "willingly demonstrate my skills with a flamethrower".

Now, reader, I'm sure you have some questions. First one being, of course, "What?"

I'll keep it simple for you, Team Fortress Industries is a corporation created by a very old and very rich man. I'm talking, rolling-in-it, mansion of gold, filthy stinking, high ballin', swan-diving-into-a-pool-filled-with-gold-coins-Scrooge-Mcduck-style rich. The geezer, Mann something, has been dead for quite awhile now; god rest his soul. Before he died, his twin sons talked him into buying a ridiculous amount of useless desert in New Mexico. I'm not sure what happened to his money or his company, but I do know that his sons didn't get it; all they got was the land they convinced him to buy. The problem only being that the land was given to them to share. It's kind of a revenge beyond the grave deal because their father died pissed off about all the money he wasted on New Mexican land, so by making the twins share he knew that they'd fight over it until they themselves died.

As expected, the twins battled, even going the extra mile and hiring their own set of mercenaries to fight for them. That's where I come in. That's terrible! you must be thinking, Why would anyone want to fight for and kill for a couple of bratty twins? Before I answer that, let me explain the basics.

There are nine classes: Scout, Soldier, Demoman, Engineer, Heavy, Medic, Sniper, Spy, and of course, Pyro. The Scout is the fastest on his feet and best for getting a job done quick. His style is hit and run before anyone notices him use his scattergun, pistol, or bat. He is best for offensive attack. That's his job, but I don't know anything personality wise. Next is the Soldier. The class is very versatile, capable of both offence and defense. Weapons include rocket launcher, shotgun, and a shovel. Again, not much to say about the person, just the job.

The Demoman is also quite versatile and a master of explosives. There's not much more to say except his melee's pretty good, too. He uses grenade launcher and stickybomb launcher. I heard, though I myself believe it's a bit far fetched, that he is known for smashing empty bottles of scrumpy on enemies in close combat. It's probably not true, I mean, that's a bit much. Next, is the Engineer, who is in charge of building sentries, teleporters, and dispensers. Pretty high-tech stuff, if you ask me. He has to be some sort of genius for the job. Other than his machines, he carries a shotgun and pistol.

The Heavy's job is already in his title. He does heavy weapons like his minigun, shotgun, or just his fists. I imagine he must be a hefty built man to carry out his duties. The Medic is, again in his name, medical aid. I'm not entirely sure about how it works, but he can heal injured mercenary team mates. I know he has his medigun, syringe gun, and the simple bone saw. All those weapons sound odd, I know; I'm don't even know how they all work. There's not much I know about the Medic. The Sniper snipes with, surprise, a sniper rifle. Secondary defense provided by his submachine gun and kukri. I also heard he throws jars of piss on people, but that sounds a insane. And disgusting.

Number eight is the Spy, another class shrouded in mystery. I know he has the ability to sabotage and destroy the opposing teams sentries and such with a sapper. I'm not sure how it works, and I'm not super concerned about it either. His classic move is stabbing someone in the back with a knife; he seems the type you'd need to be careful around. He has a revolver and invis watch that is supposed to turn him invisible for a little while. Another bit of information I'm not completely certain on. Not to say I don't have a reliable sources, but some of this stuff sounds impossible. Speaking of impossible, I am told that the job is risk free, despite the "war-like situation". I was not able to attain information much on that subject. Something unbelievably technologically advanced, probably.

Finally, before I forget, is the Pyro. Provided with flamethrower, shotgun, and fire axe. My job, if I get it, will be pretty simple: light people on fire. Lucky for me, it seems I was made for this job. I adore fire. The beautiful hues of red and orange with yellow sparks dancing around the soft flame. It's absolutely lovely, especially when it gets hot enough for blue flames; it's just dazzlingly hypnotizing. My favorite thing is the sheer power behind its allure. Simply touching it is enough. Yes, I think Pyro would suite me very well.

Not to mention how perfect the circumstances are. I just happen to stumble upon a stray paper that I almost didn't pick up, it's like it's my destiny. There's an opening not only for my dream job, but working for Team Fortress Industries. Now, we can get to what is most likely your second question: "Why?"

For money, baby! Remember that old fart I mentioned? His money is what pays us. From what I've heard, it's quite a load. We're talking 1.5 million within the year. That alone makes this job my kind of job.

Now that you've caught up, I can address the paper in my hand. I won't bore you with the other details. I need to get to a phone to call in my application, I hope I'm not too late, who knows how long this paper's been circulating.

And there you have it. Again, I promise future chapters will be better.