Yellow Submarine

"Would you quit humming that song," Sam said.

"Nope. Thought you were a Beatle fan."

"Michael Jackson, actually, Jackson Five."

"I happened to think the song is appropriate for the situation," G said.

"Well, I don't. Stop all ready."

G moved further away from his partner and continued to hum the song. "Figured out where we're supposed to go to the ladies' room."

"Nope, working on it."

"Until you do, I'm humming the song."

"That's your point, no place to pee?"

"Even after we pee, it will fit the situation."

"Nope," Sam said. "I'm trying to concentrate."

"On peeing?"

"Stop, G, I'm gonna pay you back for this one."

"Nope." G started dancing the 'I gotta go dance' while humming the song. "Hurry, Sam, cause if you don't I'm just gonna pick any spot."

"Not on the fertilizer," Sam said.

"Any reason?"

"It might cause a chain reaction within those bags."

"Turn around, I need to go," G said.

"You'd never make it in a combat zone," Sam said. He chuckled.

"Not funny. Damn. What in the… my zipper is stuck."

"Seriously, your zipper is stuck?"

"I wouldn't joke about something like this." G flipped on heels and showed his partner. "I've got to pee. Hurry and help me."

"Not on your life."

"What kind of Navy SEAL are you?"

"The straight and narrow kind," Sam said.

"So if you help me with my zipper you're gay?" G asked.

Sam walked up to his partner. "I don't want to hear any more of that song you've been humming."

"I get it. You won't help me unless I agree to stop."

"Yeah."

"It fits the situation."

"Okay, I'm not helping you." Sam stepped back a few feet in the cramped hold of the submarine.

"I'll just have to pee in my pants."

"What? Stop!"

G smirked.

"You're asking for—"

"Some place to pee and my zipper to be unstuck." G hummed a few lines of the song.

"Stop humming that annoying song!" Sam approached him again. "Don't pee in your pants." He crouched down and examined his partner's pants. "You caught your t-shirt in it."

"How uncoordinated." G laughed.

"At least you can laugh at your blunder."

"Blunder? Hurry."

Sam worked the zipper up and pulled some of the t-shirt out.

"Well?" G tapped his right foot.

"Impatient?"

"Got to go."

"Hold still." Sam finished working the t-shirt out of his partner's pants' zipper. "Go over here." He pointed to a spot as far away from both of them as possible.

"Don't look." G sidled up to the corner and relieved himself. He checked to make certain his t-shirt was out of the zipper before fastening his pants. "Now that's how I spell relief."

"I spell it with not listening to that song."

"Now it's more than appropriate," G said, smirking. "We both live in a yellow submarine."