Red vs. Blue...vs. Green
Story One: I'm Living in a Cave
Chapter Four: You Are Parked In A Loading Area
Hope at last! It was the best news of the entire week! No one had eaten any of the rations found in the Red and Blue bases and patience was wearing thin. Everyone had wanted to eat the other. For a while, Enemy had been up for 'first to be eaten' but had unfortunately pulled through after being shot by Snot. No one wanted to eat Snot, not even Snot. They all feared that with him inside them, the proverbial shit would hit the proverbial fan while being floated up the proverbial creek without the proverbial paddle...and worse. Their next option was to order Parts to let them eat him for a while. He would let them do it, seriously. Not only because he was an idiot, but because he wanted to impress. Or at least, he did want to impress until he swanned off with a tank named Sheila. Phill was the weakest after that, easy to hold down. Unfortunately he was too witty if a little thick, but that would make more to go around. You would think The Commander would be on the 'last to be eaten' section, but that title went to Name; mainly because he could defend himself...really well. Since arriving at Blood Gulch he had smacked Enemy over the head several times, almost shot Phill to pieces and had taken the pride of every squad member several times over. But, at last, the debate was over and this is how:
The Commander stood there, licking his dry lips and staring wide eyed at the sight before him. He couldn't believe they didn't notice this before. "I can't believe you didn't notice this before!" he complained to Phill, Name and Snot who were standing nearby.
"We only noticed them while Name and I were trying to find other hiding spots. The two rocks were too easy." explained Phill. "And they were just right there, in plain sight."
"I found it cheerful." commented Snot.
"How did I know you'd say that you freak of human existence?" said Phill.
"Screw what Snotty said!" exclaimed The Commander. He sucked up the saliva dribbling from his mouth. "We need to get them out now! How long have they been down there?"
"It says that they were buried about a week and a bit ago."
"So, still fresh, may need to cut off the rotten parts, but apart from that I think we scored big!" cheered The Commander. He was so happy that the boys had found new graves. "Sorry 'Church' and 'Tex'," he said unconvincingly, "you may have been third rate soldiers to get killed, but you'll be a first rate second course. Dig 'em up."
"Right sir," began Phill until a thought occurred; "but we don't have anything to dig them out with."
"No shovel or nothing?"
"If we did," droned Snot, "I would have made a grave of my own."
"Don't you dare talk that way son!" diverted The Commander. "You will do your duty and be eaten before burial! I mean, look at you! Stop hogging up all that good meat on ya and let someone else get at if for a change!"
Name nodded. This act seemed to freak out everyone, including The Commander. They didn't think he was into this sort of thing. They all tried to bury the memory of that nod deep in the darkest recesses of their minds where it would fester and slowly drive them insane, or in the case of Snot, insane-er.
"If you can't dig 'em out," began The Commander, handing several grenades to Phill and Snot, "blast 'em out."
Two hours and two loud bangs later, the squad was sitting comfortably around a nice fire, the two soldiers cooking on a spit. Wherever the owners were, it was a better place...or at least, a different place. It was far from better, and definitely not as warm. The Commander, Phill, Name, Snot, Parts and Sheila ate their 'meat' and then those there who were organic pinched what Sheila had left over, which was about exactly as much as she had been given. "It's good to have the whole family for dinner." she said cheerfully, trying to think of a way to break the extra special news she had bottled up in her circuits. "Everyone enjoying your human?"
"A little mechanical for my taste," munched The Commander, "but a fine job." He turned on his radio. "How are you going, Enemy? Meat coming good?"
Phill looked through the sniper scope up at the cave in the hillside. Sitting alone in front of a small fire of his own was Enemy, roasting a hand on the end of a stick. He gave Phill a thumbs up with all three thumbs and returned to his cooking.
"Where'd you get the dry wood?" The Commander asked Phill.
Phill put down the sniper rifle. "It's not wood." he said. "It's their armour."
"Huh." considered The Commander. "I had no idea our armour burnt this well."
"Neither did I."
"Hmm. That's the army for ya."
"I think that this scene here," began Snot, somehow incorporating a philosophical tone into his usual monotonous bore, "reflects the perfect cross between how far we've come as a species and yet how little we've actually grown."
"What do you mean?" asked Parts. "We're eating. People have been doing that for centuries."
"We're eating in the presence of machine, our own creation."
"That's debatable." scoffed Sheila. "How do we know that humans weren't invented by some almighty computer, manufactured them, plopped them onto Earth and then diminished into non-existence?"
"Sheila makes a good point." agreed Phill. "I think even Name might have something to say on the matter." Everyone was confused.
"Why?" asked The Commander.
"Well...because he's a robot."
"Fuck off!" insulted The Commander, rocking backwards. "He's no robot."
"What?"
"He's a fully fleshed human with more than enough right to live in the Universe as you do."
"But," searched Phill, trying to find an answer, "but he never talks. He's only said a few words."
"No one's perfect. You of all people should understand that!" spat The Commander. Phill turned to everyone else. "Did you know he wasn't a robot?"
"Yeah." said Parts simply.
"I did." droned Snot.
"It's implied with me." confirmed Sheila.
"Fucking idiot!" shouted Enemy through the coms.
Name shook his head disappointingly at Phill. He expected better.
"Anyway," diverted The Commander, "I believe Snot was about to say something profound for the first time."
"Well I was just saying," continued Snot, "that we may be eating around a fire with machine, civilised and all, but look at what we're eating. Human; our own kind. Haven't we moved beyond that?"
"What religion were you brought up on?" enquired The Commander.
"And then there's this war. All the fighting that has raged on for years across the vastness of space. You'd think we'd have sorted it out proactively rather than destructively. We have no allies, so many enemies and the world in which we live in is doomed to be destroyed. Our homes, our families and our lives, all gone." concluded Snot, leaving the group in a thoughtful silence.
"You gotta work on those ghost stories, Snotty." commented The Commander and he ripped a huge chunk of leg off the artificial limb. He spat it out in disgust. "What the hell is this?"
"I'd venture a guess," began Sheila, analysing the food, "that these people were not in fact people, but machines."
"Huh, I was wondering why mine had so many nuts and bolts in it." realised Parts.
"Well screw that!" said The Commander, chucking away his leg. "I'm not eating this crap. No offence Sheila."
Her lack of response clearly outlined how much she didn't care.
"I want you to take all of this and put it all back in the grave." ordered The Commander.
"Uh, there's something you might wanna know about that." said Phill. "When we blew the graves open, we also found a cave system underneath the valley."
"So?"
Phill had to think about the significance of this before he discovered that there was none at this present time. "Nothing."
Twelve more hours had passed through, along with their last meal. The Commander, Phill, Snot and Name were about to head out on a hunt when Parts and Sheila confronted them.
"We've got some important news." said Parts nervously.
'Good,' thought The Commander, 'this must be the part where they tell us they're breaking up.'
"Happy important news." added Sheila.
'Aww, that's sweet. They knew I'd be happy to hear it.'
"Wait, I don't want you to say anything until we're in complete privacy. Phill!" called The Commander. Phill stepped forward.
"Yes sir?"
"Stay within earshot." ordered The Commander.
"Right here?" asked Phill.
"No, not there! That's too far away, closer! You two!" he pointed at Name and Snot. "Move up, you couldn't hear one of my signature A-Bomb farts from back there!"
Name and Snot moved forward.
"Now," began Parts, "I know how-"
"Wait, wait, wait, wait!" interrupted The Commander. He tapped his helmet. "Enemy, are you hearing this?"
"Loud and clear sir." crackled Enemy's voice over the radio.
"Good, now we're ready. What was it?"
"Well," continued Parts warily, "we both know how you've all reacted negatively about Sheila and my getting together."
'Blah, blah! Get to the bit where you couldn't satisfy her.'
"And we listened and heard. We understand where you're coming from and we've thought it over."
'In other words, she talked too much and he came too early.'
"So we made a tough decision, but we're gonna stick with it." concluded Parts.
'Here it comes...!'
Parts stepped back, patting Sheila's metal body. "We're getting married!" she announced excitedly. "Isn't it great?"
It's hard to describe the sounds that came from The Commander's mouth. While everyone was stone silent in thought, he was coughing, spluttering, hiccupping, choking and spitting all at once. Even his stomach decided to add a little bile to the party going on in his mouth. Coincidentally, his mind had trouble thinking anything at all. In the end, all it could come up with was a simple; 'Fuck.'
"Congratulations Parts and Shei-" began Phill, but was winded by The Commander's rifle.
"Yes," he said over Phill's own splutters of surprise, "great news, brilliant news!" he smiled widely and realised a few moments later that no one could see it. "We were just heading out to shoot us a couple of bastards-I mean birds!" he corrected himself. Snot and Name thought this odd of The Commander, he seemed a very together guy...emotionally at least...well, physically all the limbs were there. He continued; "I'm just wondering if you would like to join us for a whip-while! Consider it an engagement present." he concluded, smiling inanely.
"Uhh," began a nervous Parts, "we were actually gonna start planning right away, so we'll have to take a raincheck."
"I'm sorry to have to steal him away so often." apologised Sheila.
"Not to worry, bitch. Babe! Don't worry about it. We'll be fine on our own." assured The Commander. "Head out." he said through gritted teeth.
"Oh, by the way!" called out Sheila as they slowly began walking away. "We'd like you to marry us, Commander!" The subject of the statement halted him in his tracks. He quickly turned and waved.
"Sure thing, course I'll blow it. Bless it!" And Parts and Sheila were gone, heading off to a private area.
"You still want me to listen in for the good news, or was that it?" asked Enemy sarcastically.
"Shut up!" complained The Commander, wanting to take a swing at Enemy. Unfortunately, he wasn't there so he hit Phill with his gun another time. He stalked off to the cliff top, Name and Snot close behind.
Phill slowly stood, breathing shallow. Why he had been hit so many times, he had no idea, but at least it couldn't get any worse...as long as The Commander was over punishing him.
"Phill, you climb up to the bird nests and point them out so I can take a shot!" called back The Commander. It seemed he wasn't done.
Twenty minutes later, Name was comfortably lying down on the jagged rock of the cliff path, looking through the scope of his sniper rifle towards the rise near the corner of the valley. He could see Phill gratuitously climbing up to the top where nestled safely a small flock of birds. With great difficulty, he reached the level of ground directly underneath the lip and waved in Name's direction. If it'd been up to Name, he'd have just shot Phill and they could eat him. No one would complain and there'd be a few hundred less moans and complaints to listen to. To be brutally honest, Phill was nothing more than a winey, toting, limey, smarmy-arse, shit-faced, utter, utter bastard son of a bitch who had a poorly disguised polar bear's chance in a zebra's only bar to not get killed by one of his own team than the enemy. But this was just Name's opinion, he didn't know Phill personally but suspected he wasn't much different.
"Got it set up?" grunted The Commander.
Name nodded.
"Good, pass it over."
Name handed the rifle to him. Snot was none too pleased as usual.
"Why don't I get to take a shot?" he asked.
"Because the last time you got hold of one of these, you nearly killed a little Corporal...and Enemy as well." explained The Commander.
"Was that really such a bad thing?"
"Not really, no. As far as I'm concerned, the fewer kids to come outta that twat who end up joining the army, the better chance we'll have in winning this God awful war."
"Is this what you think of everyone?"
"No." said The Commander. He considered for a moment before adding; "Apart from Enemy of course. And you, I can't say I don't think that way about you. What with your thick personality and your pussy manner, your armour colour that makes a statement on how new recruits are picked. Of course I think that way about you." As you can guess, this didn't really sink down well with Snot. Nothing really did anyway. Luckily, The Commander's continuation along this thread of conversation greatly distracted him from his sorrow with a whole new wave of it. "I think I'd mind if Parts squeezed out a few. I'd be even more worried if his wife did! A whole family of arse kissers and they'll have to get fed from there too. Come to think of it, the only person under my command I wouldn't mind having children is you, Name."
Name stood to attention. He wasn't honoured, but just liked his higher status enough to show it off to Snot.
"A good, quiet type like yourself, strong, independent, not at all a pratt like those around you. The army needs more quiet people who let everyone else do the talking while they don't say a thing no matter how heavy the battle or fierce the encounter. You know who I mean?" He waited for a reply. "Good." he continued anyway. He'd scanned around through the scope and had found Phill close to the nest. The Commander's eyes flared with frustration, he was pissed off like he'd never been before.
"And as for Phill," he began, squeezing the trigger more tightly, "I think that if anyone had the chance to stop his family line here and now, they'd be doing the Universe a big favour." He took a shot, but hit just under the lip of the cliff. Phill cut in on the radio.
"That was a little low, sir. Try just a tad higher."
The Commander huffed. "Just having to know that he is present in the same parsec in space is frustrating!" He took another shot, even lower.
"You're still heading down."
"I mean, his existence itself is a crime against humanity!" He shot once more, just missing Phill's head.
"What the fuck are you playing at up there?"
"And he has-" He shot, narrowly avoiding Phill who jumped backwards.
"No respect-" He shot again, skimming past Phill's legs. Phill was beginning to get the message.
"For his elders!" The Commander fired again, this time actually trying to hit Phill somewhere vital but missing. Phill had decided to make a runner, or at least a climber, and was jumping down the rise. The Commander began unloading clip after clip at the weaving Lieutenant as he charged across the field. "Stand still you mother fucker!" cried The Commander. "I'm your commanding officer! Obey me!"
After coaxing Phill out from behind a rock and pretending to take down his complaints record to send to Command, he agreed to meet with The Commander to apologise. This is how The Commander apologises; "If you ever annoy me in any way," he began, "you'll have something in common with a donut factory."
"How's that, sir?" enquired Phill.
"You'll be full of holes." concluded The Commander and stalked off to go give a piece of his mind to Parts and Sheila.
He hadn't thought this through, but that's how some of the greatest events in the history of mankind came about; did Captain Cook ever think 'I'm getting a little bored, I think I might discover a country with a large rock smack bang in the middle of it'? Did Abraham Lincoln take a moment to consider the possibility that someone might hate him so much that he wouldn't allow him to make it into the play's third act for the secret to be revealed? Maybe Captain Keys should have thought about playing it safe before unleashing The Flood onto the Galaxy, but that didn't stop him. And with these thoughts giving him the reason he needed to do what he was about to do, The Commander marched right up to the large tank who had stolen something dear to him; his own personal arse kisser. You don't get one those every day. He knocked the bulk roughly with his foot to get her attention before announcing; "I challenge you to a duel!" Everyone, especially Sheila, thought that this was suicide.
"That's suicide." said Sheila, agreeing with the feelings and the general consensus of the rest of the group, Enemy and you, the reader. "And what have I done to deserve this?"
"You stole my Private Parts!" He hesitated. The sound of Enemy slowly clapping demeaning-ly was broadcasted over the com. "I understand how that must've sounded." cleared up The Commander. "But I stand by those words. Parts is a hell of a soldier and he deserves to stay in deadly and probably terminal combat rather than huddle in the safe arms of you."
Sheila blew raspberries. "You wouldn't know what terminal combat is you wuss." insulted Sheila, preparing all of her weaponry. "I am a fucking tank, brought in from the front line. I've seen shit that makes your shit look like crap. Take it from me, little man," she said, aiming her enormous cannon intimidating-ly squarely between The Commander's eyes, "from my point of view, you're the other woman compared to me."
The Commander gulped. He soon regretted this as that one drop of saliva had inadvertently filled up his bladder and he now desperately had to go to the bathroom. With one last blast of confidence, and a tightening of his legs over his groin, he said; "I'll see you at midday for the duel." and walked away, his dignity intact, his head held high and his manhood a little to the left.
"It's always midday." commented Sheila. That did it; he'd wet his pants. The coward continued on to get ready in the Red base, Parts wanted to get a word in with his girlfriend.
"What are you doing?" he asked quizzically.
"Hey, he started it!" she complained. "Why should I refused a dying man's wishes?"
"He's not dying."
"He will be at midday." Sheila turned away, frustrated with her mechanic. "Besides, I thought you loved me now."
"I do. I just don't think that killing my commanding officer is a good way to prove this."
"Isn't it?" she snapped angrily. "Would you rather I killed Phill?"
"Yes!"
"I cannot believe you! Why can't you be happy with who I am?"
"I-" began Parts, but realised he couldn't continue. "I am happy with you. I love you for who you are."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Pinkie promise?"
"You don't have a pinkie."
"I can dream, can't I?" she yelled at Parts.
"Sure you can." said Parts, trying to calm her down. Unlike any other girlfriend, she could crush him underfoot. "Can you just promise me you'll go easy on him?"
Sheila stared at him incredulously. Yes, emotion was showing even though she didn't have a face. "I was built to factory settings and absolute specifications. You could ask me to go easy, medium or hard on him, it'd still be the exact same way."
"Right." thought Parts, considering what she had just said with great difficulty. "What about pretending to have a limp?"
"Hey, shut up and clean out my pipes."
"Fuck this!" paced The Commander, backwards and forwards. He had no other way to deal with his nervousness about being blown to pieces by a ten tonne tank over a wanker who actually believes he can consummate with the thing. Sure, that may be every man's wet dream at times, but it certainly cannot be achieved. That's what wet dream are! Ranting was the only answer and the two candidates The Commander wanted had been killed in action years ago, so he had to make do with Snot and Name instead. At least they were good at being quiet, as long as he felt they were listening it didn't matter. "I mean, I really didn't think she'd go for it! My macho facade should have made her fuel all over herself! These pecks didn't just grow overnight! They were grown through years of hard work trying to find out where the hell I'd packed away the 'Eight Minute Abbs' video! I mean, I had to smoke dirt to make my voice this gravelly for it to be intimidating! That ain't no mean feat, I'll tell you! And how the hell did she do it anyway? She couldn't have used any old pickup line! I reckon it was drugs or some sort of airborne hallucinogen or another complicated term of some sort! What the fuck does it matter now? As soon as I walk out there, I'm dead! I'm probably dead now and I just don't know it! Shove it you ugly living bastards! I am sick of being put in the line of fire for you all the time! I-" It was at this point that Snot's ability to withstand the incredibly moronic presence of his commanding officer gave in and he was forced to make a tactical retreat to the nearby cave to sit in the presence of another moronic presence called Enemy. For those of you who have missed the original antics of this beloved character, you will not be disappointed by his opening line of; "I prayed up to God to send one of his own to take me away. It seems that my message went in the wrong direction." Enemy was sitting down against the wall, almost pathetically but still very determined to keep anyone at least six feet away. "I see the postal service is still doing its usual bang-up job. So tell me, of all of Satan's awful punishments, of Beelzebub's most trusted and horrible servants, did he decide to send the absolute worst of them in the form of you?"
"I wanted to see how you were doing." said Snot truthfully.
Enemy considered this statement and concluded that it was; "Bullshit."
"No," insisted Snot, "I am very concerned about you." Enemy was flattered, if not weary by this strange happenstance. Snot was not one to care for others even if he didn't care for himself.
"Oh," he began, trying to search for other words, "thank...you?" He hoped this was the proper response.
"Thanks." Enemy sighed in relief.
"Well, there's not much to say really. I've been living in this cave, eating off scraps, drinking the water off the walls, using your corner as the bathroom."
"Ah." said a disappointed Snot. "Can I still have it back?"
"Sure, but I won't warn you when to get out of the way."
"Deal." There was an awkward silence. Neither of them knew how to continue on with their conversation. Snot suddenly decided to unload everything that had been going on; "The Commander's gonna get killed today."
"I know, I heard."
"You gonna watch?"
"Mmmm...nnn...nnn...nah." concluded Enemy and tried to get some sleep.
Snot wouldn't have any of this; "Come on! You can't go on living in here."
"Watch me. Except when I'm going to the bathroom, of course."
"You'll rot away in the dark."
"I see the sun hasn't done anything to your positive nature."
"Are you really going to pass up the one opportunity to see The Commander blown up by a tank for a snooze in a cave?"
"You better believe it."
"You won't even get a chance to say some witty comment in his final seconds of falling through the air."
"Oh well, I'm sure Name will have a cracker of a joke. Now, leave me alone." Enemy turned over into a tighter ball. Snot sighed, this would be harder than he thought. He'd known Enemy was an arsehole, but he didn't know he was thick as well.
"Well," he said slowly, "I've decided to move back in." he said. Enemy opened his eyes.
"What?" he asked.
"I've decided to move back into my old corner."
Enemy rolled over to face Snot, a look of disgust and horror written over his face. "You can't! It's full of shit! It was before and it is now, even more so!"
"Just makes it warmer for winter." brushed off Snot. "It'll just be you and me...good buddies...talking it out over the years...eternal loneliness with only each other for comfort. Doesn't that sound appealing?" Snot never received an answer. Enemy had left his cave for good, vowing to never return as long as there was an atom left in the Universe. Snot smiled, he had succeeded. Just for this, he treated himself by lying back into his warm corner for a small snooze. The noise it made was off-putting, so he decided to leave too.
"Why did you change your armour to brown?" enquired Phill who was standing on the hill outside with Enemy. Snot had just exited the cave and was planning on remaining unnoticed on the sidelines. His plan hadn't gone well, so he decided to leave before the smell became pungent enough to- "Yeuch!" complained Phill who turned away. "What smells like shit?" Snot left. Enemy leant in closer to Phill.
"Where's The Commander?" he asked.
"Still getting set up in the Red base with Name."
"Huh. And...where's Sheila?" Phill pointed over to the Blue base.
"Right there." He said, indicating the tank and the small figure in front of it who was obviously Parts. He was placing a hollow cylinder over Sheila's cannon ceremoniously.
"There!" he chirped. "Your engagement ring is on."
"Ah!" admired Sheila, holding her cannon up to where her eyes should be. "It fits!" Parts wiped his forehead as though it was difficult choosing the right size ring. Enemy couldn't realise how ridiculous everything had become.
"I can't believe how ridiculous everything's become!" he exclaimed to a calm Phill who understood everything unusually well. "First, we eat one of our own men who was killed by our commanding officer, then no one is where they should be, Parts falls in love with a tank called Sheila and now The Commander is about to have a duel with the thing? Now you tell me, am I missing anything? Could there possibly be any more impossible things that could happen?"
Phill turned to Enemy, hoping that it would help him think of an answer. It didn't work. He turned to Parts and Sheila who were slowly making their way across the field. Nothing. He turned to the Blue base where The Commander had finally emerged with Name close behind. Nothing. Finally, he looked up into the sky where the birds flew and the clouds passed overhead. He turned back to Enemy; "Yep."
He was shaking, he was shivering, he was terrified. The Commander had never felt this scared in his life, probably because he'd never had a duel with a talking tank before. Fortunately for him, there was a proverbial ace up his proverbial sleeve and his proverbial hand might just be good enough for him to win this proverbial game...proverbially speaking. "Son," he said to Name, "I know you're worried about me getting killed," but as we all know, this wasn't the case, "but I wanted to let you know I've got a secret weapon with me."
"Uh, you left your radio on, sir." came Snot's voice from over the radio.
"I didn't know you had a strategy." commented Enemy.
"Tell us!" said Phill.
"I promise I won't tell Sheila." said Parts.
"Yeah, I promise he won't tell me!" pleaded Sheila.
The Commander shut off his radio. "Oh yes." he said to himself. "I've got a plan." He and Name continued to the middle of the field where Sheila and Parts were in wait. He wasn't shivering anymore, he wasn't shaking anymore, he didn't need to go to the bathroom anymore. He wasn't scared. He was bloody terrified. Enemy and Phill watched from a safe distance, glad that they weren't The Commander more so than ever before.
"Hey," said Phill, "I bet you Sheila will win."
"Nah, I'd put my money on The Commander." replied Enemy. "Whatever hare-brained plan he's got, it'll definitely be crazy enough to get him through it alive. Or mostly alive." Phill considered this.
"How much money?" he asked.
"How much you got?"
"Let's shake on it." confirmed Phill. They looked at each other's hands where they held their assault rifles. They then looked at each other for a moment. "On second thought," began Phill, "I don't wanna let go of my gun."
"Yeah, me neither." said Enemy and they turned back to the duel. "I mean it'd be very inconvenient. What with the putting down of the gun and the picking up of the gun.
"It's better we just, you know, leave it in our arms." agreed Phill. "Someone might decide to attack us."
"Yeah. It only takes a split second of distraction to get you killed. And a handshake would...would definitely do it."
"Oh, absolutely, totally one hundred percent agree. Mmm hmm."
The Commander stood on one hill, Sheila on the other. Name was ready to count down to the fire command. "Whenever you're ready, Name." said The Commander. Name nodded down to the fire command, but nothing happened. He tried again, nothing. Unfortunately, Name's nods weren't seen by the duellers as their backs were turned to him. "What in the Hurt Locker are you waiting for?" Name shrugged at him. "Snot, get your arse down here, front and centre."
"Aww." complained Snot from afar and ventured down to where Name was standing. He counted down with Name's nods. "One..."
The Commander tensed.
"Two..."
Sheila prepped her cannon.
"Three!"
The Commander turned, mightily whipping out his rocket launcher from wherever he kept it. This was his secret weapon.
"That is his secret weapon?" exclaimed Enemy incredulously. "We already knew about it!"
The Commander aimed it strategically at Sheila's weak spot in the cockpit. "Hey Sheila!" he called. "Get ready to suck some-" BANG! "Argh!"
For those of you who might've guessed, The Commander was shot and is at present flying through the air. "What grace." commented Enemy as both he, Phill and everyone else watched this poor man fall without style.
"I want you all to know!" yelled The Commander as he fell. "I hate Phill the most!"
Phill didn't know exactly how to take this news, but knew exactly how to react. "Mother fucker." he said simply, aiming his assault rifle at his commanding officer and taking a few pot shots at him.
They all gathered around The Commander's body, lying awfully still where it had landed. Parts had been the first one there. Ever since seeing his higher rank being blasted by his fiancé of a tank, he had had an epiphany about life. As he kneeled there applying mouth to mouth, he realised just what his priorities were.
"Parts..." croaked The Commander weakly.
"Yes sir?" asked a hectic Parts.
"Stop blowing into my arse."
"Whoops, sorry sir." apologised Parts.
"Jeez, you must've been hit bad if your arse looks anything like your face!" joked Enemy.
"Hey Enemy, why don't you cut your dick off and shove it in your mouth because that's the closest you'll get to a commitment."
"Not your best comeback., sir. It's not the first time you've died."
"Hardy fucking har!" spat The Commander. "Where's that tank? I guess I should congratulate her victory over this poor husk before I pass on to the next life and haunt the shit out of her."
"I...uh...I shut her down." said Parts.
"What? That was our only tank."
"Don't worry, she'll be operational again." assured Parts. "Just a long time in the future when everything's the same, yet different, when everything's smoother and more detailed and when the scenery isn't so pixelated."
"Why did you do it?"
"It didn't feel right." explained Parts. "There was just no chemistry between us, like it was all physical. Also...it was...you know..."
"Fucked up?" suggested Phill.
"Yeah." agreed Parts "I erased her memory banks so she won't remember us. She won't remember me. It'll be like we never existed."
"So, she's gone for now?"
"Yep."
"Brilliant!" and The Commander sprang to his feet. "Well, that's one less bad guy to worry about!" he said cheerfully.
"Wait, you're not hurt?" asked Enemy.
"Nope."
"But Sheila hit you dead on!"
"I know. Guess I'm just lucky."
"Fuck lucky!" exclaimed Enemy. "That's close to freaking touched by God!"
"I'm sad about losing our tank." continued The Commander, ignoring Enemy as usual. "This means we'll need to take shelter back in the cave until we're absolutely sure that the Reds and Blues are not coming back. Move out!"
"You mean 'in', sir." corrected Parts.
"Damn it son, I forgot how much you annoyed me." said The Commander and they all began walking back to their cave.
"You know what, at least we still got the Puma."
"Fuck you!" screamed out Enemy. "Fuck you all!"
Vic had been sitting at his monitor for a few weeks now without any incoming transmissions from Blood Gulch Outpost One. He was getting worried; if they didn't buy something soon, he'd have to move on to another outpost. Considering this, he didn't really care any longer and just decided to stay where he was. Suddenly, white noise emerged from the speakers. A live transmission was being intercepted. "Blood Gulch Outpost One, is that you?" he asked. "About fucking time." he complained.
"Hello Green Command." came the fuzzy, gruff voice of a Sergeant. "This is Green squad, reporting in. Do you read me?"
"Green Command?" considered Vic, his hand hovering over the 'transmit' button. "I don't know nothing about no Green Command."
"Come in!" came the voice again. "We have-"Vic moved his hand over the 'cut transmission' button and pressed it.
"Fucking telemarketers!"
