"So, Soldier is Sgt. Hartman, Demoman is Vinny or Guts, Pyro is Moliére, Engi is a dwarf, Heavy is Zangief, Spy is Snake, Sniper is Golgo 13, Scout is Sonic and Medic is Reichter." –ZILLAFAN
…The hell are you talking about?
Thanks for all the positive feedback on this story. It assures me that I am doing what my loyal readers want: More focus on characters outside of Scout and Tracer. I understand that people may get bored with all the focus on Trout/Emily in the main story, but I do it for a reason.
"We need to have some more excitement around here."
"I agree. You guys have it too boring in this dump heap."
"I keep telling Pharah that we need a pool in here, but she won't listen."
"Swimming pool or pool table?"
"Both."
The Down Under Dogs were continuing their poker night. At the moment, that was their only form of entertainment that night. Pharah was strongly against parties, and anything that could lead to one. Winston, being the incompetent doofus that he was, could really care less.
"Who is that Chinese ice girl again?" Engie asked.
"Her name's Mei," Reinhardt said. "I like to call her Meidar because she can somehow read Winston's mind before he even says anything."
"She seems a bit gullible. Maybe we can get her to sneak an order form for a pool table past him," Sniper said. "And maybe a foosball table. Scout loves those."
"Aye," Demoman slurred. "Back a' Teufort, we had all the fun in tha world! Drinkin' contests, weekend in San Fran raffles, with tha lovely Miss Paulin', no less,"
"You mates had drinkin' contests?" An intrigued Junkrat inquired.
"'All ya can drink, 50 dollars. Last man standing wins the money,' that was our last one," Engineer said with a smile on his face. "Ah, it was fun. I remember it. The young Scout dropped after three beers, Cyclops here didn't make it past seven…"
"Aye! Shut yer mouth, lad!"
"Hehehehehe. Heavy was the big winner. He outlasted Doc by just one pint of vodka."
"Ya know, mates. Someday we gotta do it."
"Do what?" Junkrat asked his fellow Aussie.
"Throw away all the weapons and just invite those Talon jokers in here for a cocktail party."
"I'm with you, man." Reinhardt said.
"Yep. Last wanker standing on their feet wins the war."
"Great concept," said McCree. "But good luck getting it past Pharah.
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Good luck with that, indeed. Pharah was storming into Winston's lab to complain about the smoking, drinking, gambling, and swearing that was going on underneath his very feet. He seemed to have grown very "eh" about the whole thing lately. It's not that he didn't know it was going on, it's that he didn't seem to care.
But as she got to his desk, she heard a voice. It wasn't Winston's. It was the sound of the RED Team's French master of espionage.
"Ah, here I am, sitting in that gorilla's chair, where about a hundred indecisions have been made."
Pharah groaned in disgust to smell tobacco smoke coming from there as well. It's like nothing was sacred to these whackos. The concept of a well-respected (to her, at least) team of heroes saving the world from terrorism didn't seem to have any effect on these…
"Rude, disgusting, ungrateful pigs," Pharah hissed under her breath. Nope, it seemed as if they just treated every place, even the Overwatch's own headquarters like their own personal bedroom, leaving trash all over the floor and saying to the person complaining, "You don't like it? You pick it up."
Pharah stormed in, finding the Spy not only smoking in Winston's chair, but also having a glass of red wine in there as well. And on top of that, he was putting his feet up on the table, leaving dirty footprints on the surface.
"What are you doing?!" Pharah hissed.
"Doing, lady?" Spy asked skeptically.
"D-O-I-N-G! What. Are. You. Doing?!"
"Right now, I'm listening to you spell 'doing'. Until then, I've been keeping an eye on things while that big oaf is eating Elvis' breakfast."
"You have absolutely no idea how to operate this equipment!"
"I've seen this before, lady. All you do is push buttons." At that point, the phone rang. Spy pushed a button to answer it.
"No! Don't push that button!" Pharah shouted. But it was too late. Spy had already pushed a giant blue button on the control panel.
He cleared his throat and said, "Overwatch HQ at Gibraltar." At that moment, the speaker on the control panel, which was where the caller's message was received, and coins started flying out of it. Excited, Spy took off his Fancy Fedora, and used it to catch the coins that seemed to just pop out of thin air into the room.
"Who was it?" An irritated Pharah said.
"Las Vegas," Spy chuckled. "I just won the Russian Roulette from 50,000 miles away! I could never do this in my time!"
"Get that cigarette out of your hand!"
Spy did as he was told. He promptly put it back in his mouth.
Pharah looked flustered. "Gimme that wine." She didn't even wait for a response before she yanked it away from him and gulped down its' contents in one sitting. Then she threw the glass somewhere behind her. It landed with a loud shatter.
"You owe me thirty dollars," Spy said, clearly upset by that. It didn't matter. Pharah just huffed and stormed out of the room. Spy then grabbed the bottle of wine that was on the desk, read the contents, and decided to just drink it straight out of the bottle.
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Pharah wasn't the only one trying to stop all "disgusting activity," as she liked to call it. Genji and Hanzo were monitoring unusual behavior going on as well. They didn't have to look very far for it. Genji noticing the RED Team's Heavy Weapons Guy walking around wearing a ballerina costume, complete with wings and a plastic wand.
"Is there any reason why you're wearing that outfit?" An annoyed Genji asked.
"Heavy is wish-making fairy! Make wish!"
A long pause came and then Genji said, "I wish we never even thought about going back in time to get you disgusting slobs."
"Nyet. Heavy cannot grant wish like that. Heavy can only grant wishes of happiness."
"Well, that would make me happy. Does anyone on your team ever go to sleep?! I'm hearing about those ding-dongs in the basement playing poker and now you're up, too?! Does anyone sleep here?!"
"Only when on duty, baby man."
"'Baby man'?! Who are you calling baby man?! I am a-"
"Heavy is tired of listening to mindless rabble. Baby man is boring Heavy Weapons Guy." And with that, Heavy turned around and left, but not before Genji caught a glimpse of him with his shaved legs and wearing Zarya's high-heeled shoes. As if they couldn't possibly get any crazier," he thought.
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Hanzo opened the door to what should have been an empty mess hall, after hearing some loud clattering and muttering going on. He opened the door to find hundreds, possibly even thousands, of helium-filled balloons in the mess hall. And in the middle of the huge mess was the RED Pyro, accompanied by Mei in the corner. Pyro was making Mei a dog-shaped balloon, which she loved seeing.
"Oh wow, I never knew you could be so good at this!"
"Mmmph-Mah-Mmphmmph."
"Do you even hear what I'm saying?"
"Mmm-mmm."
"Well, I hope you hear what I'M saying, you masked freak!" Hanzo suddenly shouted out. "I want this whole mess cleaned out of here by tomorrow morning, or I'll show you what I, as someone who's followed the path of the dragon, am capable of doing to a freak like you!"
"Hey!" Mei snapped back at him. "How could you call him a freak? I don't see you calling Roadhog a freak just because he too wears a mask!"
Before Hanzo could interject, Pyro walked over to him. He grabbed an empty green balloon, blew it up using a helium tank in the mess hall, tied some string around it, and handed it to Hanzo.
"Aww…for me?" Hanzo said with fake sincerity. "Why, thank you, masked man. I've always wanted my very own balloon." Then the snarl on his face returned and he squeezed the balloon so hard that it popped in his hand. Pyro looked horrified. "Yeah, that's right. Your silly toys won't win over one of the Shimada clan!"
Pyro seemed sad by his comments. But then he quickly ran into the kitchen and came back out with 99 red balloons in each hand. He seemed to be skipping over to Hanzo.
"I told you, I won't take your stupid-Wait. Where are you going?" He noticed that Pyro was walking out of the mess hall and into the hall with the huge staircase leading to the top of the building. With a total of 198 balloons, Pyro began floating up to the very top.
Hanzo's jaw crashed onto the floor. He didn't think it was possible that a human being could be lifted into the air by helium balloons. But he was questioning if this Pyro was actually a human being.
"What the-! How did you-?!" Pyro seemed to be having a laugh at his expense. Hanzo was shocked. He could only imagine what was going through the Pyro's head at that moment. He would not have guessed that everything appeard to be rainbow colored and playing the Lovin' Spoonful in the background. And he certainly wouldn't have guessed that Pyro was actually flying in his deluded fantasies.
Mei rushed outside. She too was shocked by what she saw. But her shock quickly turned into amazement as she shouted out to him, "Wow! That's awesome! You should teach me how to fly!"
Pyro gave her a thumbs-up from where he was, which was almost at the top of the building. But he realized too late that ass he was giving that thumbs-up, he let go of half of his balloons. Now, without enough helium to support him, he fell back down to the ground and landed with a loud crash.
He didn't appear to be hurt by it, but any amazement that Hanzo had at seeing that was now gone. "Hmmph," he grunted. "Serves you right. Flying around with balloons, what has that done for anybody? It only serves my point that you all are nothing a bunch of disrespectful weirdos." And with that, he stormed off.
Mei took pity for Pyro, as she went over to him and said, "Don't listen to him. He's just jealous because he's never been able to fly. Also, he hates everything."
Pyro's facial expressions, whatever they looked like, were hidden behind his mask, but he seemed to give her a look that said, I know what you mean.
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Pharah went to Mercy's wing, hoping that she could get a little bit of sanity from her. Mercy was one of the most sane people that she had ever met, but you never would have guessed that if you saw what Pharah saw in her sickbay at that time.
Medic was almost naked, wearing only his long pants. Mercy had taken off her Valkyrie suit and her shirt underneath that. She was only wearing her pants and her bra.
"What are you two doing in here?"
"Ve're playing strip chess," Medic said. "Oh-ho. It's very fun. Knight to King 2. Check." Mercy groaned. "Nein, not yet. I'll go easy on you for now. Give me deine halo."
Mercy looked relived. She took off her halo and handed it to Medic.
Pharah couldn't believe what she was seeing. "Is everyone on your team crazy?!"
"Everyone who is sane is, miss."
Having had enough of this crap from the Spy, Pharah stormed out.
"Agh. Now vhere vere ve?"
"I believe I vas taking your precious queen," Mercy said, doing so with her bishop. "Check. Pants, please."
Medic groaned. Mercy giggled.
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Up in Scout's room, another party was going on. He was being joined by Soldier, Soldier 76, Tracer, and D. Va for a movie night. Well, not really a movie night. More like a comedy night.
Scout was a huge fan of stand-up comedian George Carlin, having heard some of his acts during his time in the 1970's. He remembered being scolded by his ma for having a copy of his album Class Clown, which included the infamous Seven Dirty Words act. That was extremely risqué for his time.
Jack Morrison, better known as Soldier 76, was in the middle of the spectrum of how the Overwatch looked at the RED Team. While he wasn't particularly fond of some of their antics, he did feel like Overwatch had gotten too boring lately and needed some livening up, and that the RED Team were just the people to do that, even if it sometimes got out of control.
76 told Scout that he was also a fan of Carlin, having listened to his acts all the time when he was a young boy. He owned all of his comedy albums, books, audiobooks, and HBO specials. They were watching one on Scout's TV right now: You Are All Diseased. Scout had never seen this one before, since it was made in 1999, but he was enjoying it so far. He couldn't believe some of this stuff he was hearing from it. If he thought that the Seven Dirty Words was living life dangerously, then he had absolutely no idea what living dangerously was really like. He thought he did, though. His brothers once brought him to one of Carlin's shows behind their ma's back. That was the best evening of his life. Of course, ma found out about it and they all got in trouble for it. At least his brothers were also sharing the blame for it, so it wasn't all bad.
Hanzo walked into the room as they were watching a part of the special titled, "Man Stuff." Soldier really liked this part as it contained this part:
Here's my idea for a festival. It's called Slug Fest. Here's what you do: You take about a hundred thousand of these fuckin' men, these macho motherfuckers, you what I'm talking about? The muscle assholes.
You take about a hundred thousand of these disgusting pricks and you just throw 'em into a big 25-acre dirt arena and you just let them beat the shit out of each other, for 24 hours nonstop. No food. No water. Just whiskey and PCP!
Everyone in the room burst into laughter at that statement. D. Va and Tracer in particular found it funny because of how unbelievably true it was. They hated those huge muscle freaks who were also rude, showing off, had no brains, and smelled like they hadn't showered in years.
And you just let 'em punch and pound and kick the shit out of each other until only one guy is left standing.
Then you take that guy, you put him on a pedestal, and ya shoot him in the fuckin' head!
Scout and Tracer, more than the other three people, couldn't breathe because of how hard they were laughing at that. Scout could not believe what he was hearing. There was no way Carlin could have gotten away with this in 1973. He already stirred up so many people in that time, that he was sued for indecency.
D. Va was laughing so hard at this. She now loved George Carlin because of how true he was. "Oh my god," she said through uncontrolled laughter. "He is so right! I have never seen such an accurate description of guys like that!"
"Yeah," Tracer said through giggling fits. "That is the most accurate depiction of Americans I have ever seen."
Soldier, a proud American himself, didn't like hearing that. "Hey, listen here, you female Dick Van Dyke! If you think that us grand Americans are big, fat morons like you have just heard on this TV, then I will gladly shove a land mine up your controversy-starter!"
Tracer was about to reply to that, but realizing that he was just as right about her as she was of him, she decided not to say anything. After all, she was wearing nothing but her brown coat and a two-piece yellow bikini underneath it. And D. Va was hardly any better, only wearing a skimpy nightdress. It was obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra.
Hanzo, the only one in the room not laughing, shouted out, "How could Winston have let you in? I mean, look at you! You're corrupting our beloved Overwatch by having our young girls strip down to their underwear and exposing them to…to…foul, untasteful garbage like this! It's nothing but bad language and toilet humor!"
"It's called satire, buddy," Soldier 76 said. "I saw this when I was a kid. It's just as relevant now as it was back then. This man is funny because he speaks the truth. And as for these corrupting the Overwatch, lemme tell you something. We have gotten so boring around here lately, that we need them to make us exciting again."
"Boring?! How dare you say that! We had respect before they came here! People took us seriously, but not anymore! Not while these freaks are around us! Yeah, freaks. That's what you are. You aren't heroes. You're an insane asylum! Look at what you guys are turning this place into! It's a mad house! It's a nut farm!"
"Well, that's a little bit harsh, isn't it man?" 76 said.
"Yeah, and what kinda nuts?" Scout asked. "Walnuts? Hazlenuts? Almonds?"
"You think you're so funny with your cheap one-liners and jokes at the end of every sentence. You just have to call all the shots, don't you? You just have to crack a joke at everyone's expense!"
"Well, I'm not biased. You can take a few shots if you'd like," Scout said with a grin.
"Oh, go soak your head! You're all nothing but a bunch of lunatic! I've seen your Scottish demolitions 'expert.' What kind of soldier wears hats and kilts when going out to battle?!"
"Well, at least he's got the right legs for it," Soldier said.
"Hey, listen here, ya ninjacompoop," Scout blurted out. "From what I hear, nobody has been taking you guys seriously at all, even before we joined. These guys have been telling me that ever since you guys have become well known, you have received a lot of hostility from the public because you always fight where people live, resulting in their property being destroyed, and even some of them dying.
Y'know, back in Teufort, we always fought in enclosed areas out of reach of any public environments. I mean, yeah, people still didn't like us, but only because we kept them awake at night.
And before you on bashing Solly and I as Americans, need I remind you that the booze you drink is made in America?"
"What-How dare you say that?! Me and my brother have much more respect for ourselves than to drink American liquor! We only drink prime sake made in our beloved and well-respected home country of Japan!"
"Then how do you explain this?" Scout said, holding up a strange bottle. "I snabbed it from your bro's cabinet. He says that you and him drink it all the time."
"Sake One? Of course we do! This is prime Japanese sake! The true Shamida never drink anything of lesser quality! There is no way that this is made in…" He paused for a moment, as his anger turned into shock and what he was reading on the bottle.
Sake One, made and manufactured in Forest Grove, Oregon, United States
"And from what I hear," Scout continued. "The best American alcohol is made in Oregon! They have their own brewing and distilling culture there! Maybe I should move there someday."
Hanzo was absolutely speechless. He couldn't believe it. This sake, which he and his brother Genji loved drinking so much, was not Japanese? In fact, it was American?! He felt so pissed off right now. He just wanted to rip the head off of the first person that he came across. Somehow he was able to hold it in and hiss to Scout, "Boy, you haven't heard the last of this!"
"Oh, I wasn't listening to the first of it," Scout said.
Hanzo stormed out in a rage, not hearing Tracer shout to him, "Oi, love! Watch out for that-"
But before she could finish her sentence, there was the sound of crashing, clattering, and yelling as Hanzo fell down a flight of stairs with the noise trailing after him, followed by some grunts, offs, ows, and yells with more crashing, and then ending with a huge thud into a wall at the bottom, and ending with the sound of a lid rolling on the floor to a stop. Tracer then rolled her eyes and muttered, "…Trash can."
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Down in the mess hall, Mei was helping Pyro get back up. "Are you OK? I'm so sorry about that. Hanzo is just in a bad mood today. There's no need for you to be scared or angry at him."
Pyro seemed to understand. For his freakish nature, he seemed to be a very good listener, even though Mei sometimes thought that there were other things going on in his head. "Can you do anything besides blowing up balloons? And burning things?" She asked.
Pyro then reached into his suit, and pulled out three small balls, one red, one blue, and one green. Mei was fascinated by Pyro's use of bright and varied colors. She could tell that there was something more going on in his mind. "You can juggle?" She asked.
"Mmm-hmm," Pyro said. He then started juggling to show her his abilities. He didn't just throw the balls from one hand to the other. He would occasionally let one fall down, only for him to knock it back up his foot. Sometimes he would even bounce it off of his head. He continued juggling for a while, until he tossed all the balls up into the air and caught him with his hand.
Mei clapped at that. "That was awesome! I wish I could juggle like that!" It always did take some skill to learn how to juggle, but Mei never bothered as she didn't know what she would do it for. She never wanted to join the circus, especially after hearing that Winston started Overwatch to, among other reasons, escape being a circus animal.
Pyro then ran out of the room and into the kitchen. He came back out with a very large yoga ball. "What's this for?" Mei asked. Pyro responded by jumping onto the ball and starting his juggling act again.
"WOW!" Mei shouted. Pyro was now juggling on a very uneven surface that constantly rocked back and forth. She could not name anybody who could do an amazing feat like that. She knew she couldn't do it, especially not what Pyro was doing, which involved his juggling balls landing and bouncing off of the yoga ball and back into his hands.
However, it quickly came to an end when the yoga ball popped and deflated, taking Pyro down with it. Pyro stepped off the deflated ball, and flipped it over to ensure that it was no longer usable.
Mei said to Pyro, "I don't think you should be doing that anymore."
Pyro looked down sadly. He then slowly hopped out of the room. But Mei could tell he wasn't done yet. He still had one more act for her.
And she was right. Pyro came back into the mess hall, this time riding in on a unicycle. Mei couldn't tell where he got that from, but that actually made it kind of funny.
Pyro did his juggling act again, once again, tossing the balls down to the floor with him kicking them back up. Sometimes he would even bounce them off the pedals of the unicycle. He then started to wheel around the empty mess hall on it, while still managing to keep his juggling act from falling.
After a few minutes of juggling and adulation from Mei, he pointed to her. "Me?" She asked.
"Mmm-hmm."
"Is there something you want me to do?"
"Mmm-hmm." He pointed behind her. She noticed a few more balls on a table. They were yellow, orange, and purple.
"You want these balls?"
Pyro nodded, but made a throwing motion with one hand.
"You want me to throw these at you?"
"Mmm-hmm." He started juggling the three balls currently in his hand again.
Mei threw each of the balls toward him, one at a time.
She couldn't believe it. Pyro caught all of them and was juggling all six balls at once. Once again, sometimes letting them fall, only for him to kick them up again. This was what Mei liked to call A-Mei-zing. She now envied Pyro and his juggling skills.
Pyro kept this up for a while, before he increased his juggling speed, before finally tossing all the balls up into the air and catching them in his hands.
Mei clapped and cheered for him. To Pyro, he felt like all of Woodstock was applauding for him. He bowed and waved to the "people" that were there cheering him on.
Despite what she heard about him, Mei decided that there was really nothing too scary or frightening about the Pyro after all.