Last time on The Sidewinder Crew…

Captain Tent cocked his head to the side. "Um, last chapter was only 49 words."

Oh. Right. Then let's skip that part. This time, on The Sidewinder Crew…

"I'm sorry, sir. But it's time for you to leave."

"And so it is." Steve sighed. "What are we doing? I think we did something to bring the author's wrath down on us. We can't find Rogers, and weren't even in most of the last chapter."

"We were in the entire last chapter."

"Well, yeah, that chapter. I meant the one before that. He kicked the snow. "For Pete's sake, we haven't even gotten out of Sidewinder yet."

"Well, maybe you should find a way to, no, wait, copyright. Hmmmmm…" Tent shrugged. "I got nothing."

"For once we're on the same page. Where the heck are you, Rogers!"

They turned to see the corporal standing right next to them. Steve sighed. "Figures."

Rogers looked at them. "Man, it's great to see you guys again. Want to hear my long and needlessly drawn-out tale of how I escaped?"
"NO. As in N-O. NO. Notta. Nien. Nonka. Any other word for no in any language. NO." Steve shrugged. "Ah, what the heck. Go ahead and tell us."

"Remember that private guy? With the Reds?"

"Um…no. We never visited the Reds."

"Right." He shook his head. "Never mind. Okay, apparently he was watching the NFL Draft, because he for some reason traded up for my number. Odd, he only got ten bucks and a Reggie Bush bobblehead doll for it, but that's not the point. Anyway, I got picked, had a talk with the author, and got back here."

"Wow. That wasn't very drawn out. I'm impressed."

Tent cocked his head to the side. "What did the author tell you?"
"He gave me all of this Mister Frodo-licensed memorabilia as long as I promised to always be nice to him." He whipped out his bag with a MISTER FRODO label on it. "I got this bag, a collection of all of Mister Frodo's works, and bobblehead dolls of assorted people." He pulled out two NBA bobbleheads. "Look, if you move them really carefully, you can get Shaq to bite off Kobe's head! Isn't that awesome!"

Steve furrowed his brow. "That makes no sense."

"It's in a Mister Frodo story. Did you expect it to make sense?"

So, as I await the delivery of an anvil with Rogers' name on it, we go to the Reds for a startling development…

Sergeant Montgomery tapped her foot on the ground. "Where is Phillips? I told him to meet us here at this place."

Sal shrugged. "I have no idea, ma'am."

They stood in the middle of Sidewinder. Montgomery surveyed their surroundings once again. "I really just don't get how—"

The private walked up. "Well, hey, ma'am, other ma'am, how's it going?"
"Private?" She stared at him. "What happened to you?"

"It'd take a long time to explain."

"If you put it that way…" Her eyes picked up movement. She wheeled around. "So, um, where were you?"
"In this weird room with FedEx employees and stuff. I got out early on good behavior."

"That's—"

She held her gun at the ready. "Sal, there's someone here."

"I know."

The two of them stood back-to-back, with the private shaking his head at them from the side.

"Dude, this freakin' stinks. It's like the Sixth Sense or something."

Viewpoint Change to the Private

The private froze. "Wait, 'viewpoint change'? What the burrito…?"

"Dude, you should like totally love burritos! Burritos are, like, your friend!"

The private spun around, almost snapping his Achilles tendon. Luckily he was too lazy to spin around quick enough to hurt himself. "What in the world?" He realized that a Red soldier stood next to him. "Who are you?"

"Oh, right. I think my name's, like…" The soldier put a hand to his chin (helmet). "…Darnt."

The private squinted at a white nametag on the soldier's armor. "Um…your nametag says 'My name is Kyle.'"

"No, dude, it's definitely…Darnt."

"Durnt?"

"No, Darnt."

"Oh. Right. Durnt."

Something seemed to distract "Darnt". He looked over the private's shoulder at the two girls and gasped. "Oh my onion…you guys are, like, totally The Sidewinder Crew! Dude, I'm, like, your biggest fan!"

"Wow. Mister Frodo actually has fans." The private shrugged. "Who knew?"

A random meteorite hit the private, killing him instantly. "Darnt" stared on in amazement. "Wow. That was so totally radical, dude!"

Three Days Later…

The private walked up. "Well, hey, ma'am, other ma'am, how's it going?"
Sal glanced over at him. The two girls still stood back-to-back. "You left?"

"What? Are you kidding me? I was gone for three freakin' days!"

"Oh. Right." She looked at "Darnt". "Who's this?"

"Are you freakin' joking? You didn't notice him for three whole days!"

"We were busy."

"Yeah, I really believe you." He sighed. "Okay, listen, this is Kyle."

"Darnt, dude. Darnt."

"Listen, I don't care what you think your name is, your name is Kyle, and if you don't like that, don't wear a nametag that has the name Kyle on it!"

"Dude, you have some serious anger issues."

"That's it!" The private stomped off towards their base. "I'll be with the flag if you need me!"

Poor private. Nobody understands him. So, after all that idiotic talk, here comes the tale of a boy, a girl, and a 50-megaton bomb…

Steve shook his head. "I really don't think that's true."

"Why not?" Rogers leaned against the wall. "I tell the truth all the time."

"Yeah, I bet you do. Just I seriously doubt that you would somehow just meet up with Shaq, go to the Taj Mahal, rescue Princess Leia, and then throw the Ring into the fires of Mount Doom, all before lunchtime."

"It's not impossible."

"Actually, I have this kind of feeling; call it a brain wave if you want, that it is impossible." He sighed. "This job stinks. So, what are we going to do now?"

Captain Tent moved to the middle of the base. "I have something I want to show you two. Now, don't scream."

"Okay."

"Prepare yourselves. This is not for the faint at heart." The captain pulled out a Rocket Launcher.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Sir, no offense, but that was just—"

"HOLY TOMATOES! A ROCKET LAUNCHER!" Rogers collapsed on the floor.

Steve stared at the corporal's prone figure. "He's such a wimp."

"Great. Now I'm stuck with Steve!" Tent bent down and shook Rogers. "Come on, wake up! I don't want to be alone with that idiot!"

"Thanks, sir. You're very encouraging."

Steve glanced over at the exit hall. He did a double-take. A blue soldier stood in the doorway, dual shotguns ready. Steve bowed his head. "Great. This again."

"You better believe it." The blue girl cocked her shotguns. "You left me to die last time."

"No, actually, Rogers was afraid of you. He wanted you to die."

"Oh. Right." She looked around. "Where is he?"
"The guy on the ground."

"Okay."

She rushed past. He heard a shot and a groan. You little idiot… He wheeled around. "No, the other guy on the floor!"

"Oh. Sorry, captain." She blasted Rogers. "There. Now he's dead."

"Um, I hate to break this to you, but Rogers died before. He came back."

"Not this time." She slumped against the wall and exhaled. "Phew. Glad that's over."

"So, are you always like this?"
"Oh, just shut up, you son of a bicycle." She stretched her arms. "You idiots always mess everything up."

"Wait." He chuckled. "'Son of a bicycle'? What's up with that?"

"Well, my mom always told me that cussing is not the answer. I decided that between that and her 'violence is not the answer' lesson, I liked the cussing one better, so I never cuss." She sighed. "'Violence is not the answer.' I guess that's what you get when you have a hippie mom."

"Oh. Right."

Tent got to his feet. "Oh, my head is aching. It's almost like a headache or something." He picked up his rocket launcher. "Okay, I think it's time we were properly introduced. I'm Captain Tent."

Steve shrugged. "I'm Private Steve."

"And I'm Private Cynthia." A short growl escaped from her throat. "But if I have one more person call me Cindy, oh, I'll—"

"Kill us all?"

The three Blues spun around to see PenguinsKilled. Steve furrowed his brow. "Who the heck are you guys?"

"You don't know?" The head Spartan in gray armor shook his head. "This is just sad. Okay, hit it!"

Sappy theme music started playing. A spotlight suddenly appeared and focused on the members of PenguinsKilled.

"You thought you knew Red vs. Blue. But, now, introducing the future of multiplayer teams…PenguinsKilled!"

The three Spartans turned cartwheels in the base. Then they started dancing. Steve watched, his body frozen in horror. Must run away. Must run away.

The Spartans finally stopped. "Okay, that's over." The head soldier stepped forward. "I'm SteakandGravy, that's your friend, and the last one is me…again."

"Wait, you're there twice?" Tent looked from one idiotic soldier to the next. "And you're my friend?"

"No, your friend."

"My friend?"

"No, you—oh, never mind."

Steve shrugged. Again. "So, um, why are you guys here?"

"Right." SteakandGravy pulled out a slip of paper. "We're here to present an award to the one who has killed Rogers: Private Cynthia Anthony—"

Cynthia growled.

"—or just Private Cynthia, if she prefers it that way." He placed a sniper rifle on the ground. "This is a gift from the author. Use it wisely."

"Please, the author can't snipe to save his life." She took the weapon. "Okay. Can we just finish this up so I can kill you?"

"You sure know how to encourage people." He backed up to the exit hall. "Okay, see you guys later. Bye."

The three PenguinsKilled members walked away. Sadly, they didn't realize that they were on the second level, and went right out of the large opening, fell a long ways, and died. Steve shrugged. "Hey, better them than me."

"What the heck! This thing doesn't even work!"

He turned around. Cynthia pounded the sniper rifle against the wall. "This stupid thing doesn't work!"

The lights in the room dimmed. She dropped the rifle to the ground. They stared at it.

"Hello, Blue team members." A cheap British voice spoke from the Sniper Rifle. "Your mission, if you choose to take it, is to find the evil warlord Maximum Pain."

Steve sighed. "Boy, that's inconspicuous."

"He has created a 50-megaton bomb that will detonate and destroy Sidewinder if you do not stop him. The access code for the bomb is in Pain's secret lair in Wizard."

"Wait. If it's so secret, how come you know where it is?"

"Quiet, pointless idiot who will die very, very soon if he doesn't shut up. You can select any two operatives to go with you on this mission, but you must also find PenguinsKilled and work with them on this mission."

"But PenguinsKilled just died."

"Oh, then scratch that last part. This rifle will self-destruct in thirty seconds. Good-bye."

Steve furrowed his brow. "Who was that guy?"

"I have no idea. Though he did sound oddly like Q." Cynthia handed him the sniper rifle. "Here. Hold this for a second."

"Okay." He watched her and the captain leave. "Hey, wait a second…"

KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

You can see I pay top dollar for my sound effects. And now, finally, at LAST, the hero will rise…

The hero rose from his coffin. "I have come forth to destroy all who oppose me. Stand aside, evildoers, or prepared to be destroyed!"

A giant fireball hit the hero and killed him. Mario ran up, laughing maniacally. "'Mama Mia' that!"

Kyle (or "Darnt", whichever one you want to call him) stared at the TV screen. "Dude…I, like, totally did not see that coming." He gazed in awe as Mario murdered innocent chickens. "Totally radical, dude."

The private came up. "Hey, what you watchin'?"

"Um…I forgot. Wait, the show's title is coming on…"

A sudden explosion destroyed the television set. Kyle sighed. "Every time…"

The private shrugged. "What the heck. Listen, I'd like to introduce you to someone."

"Okay, dude."

He turned around. The private held a flag in his hands. "Kyle, this is Natalie. Natalie, this is Kyle."

"Who are you talking about, dude? Is someone behind the flag?"

"It IS the flag, you moron." He shook his head. "The nerve of some people…"

"Oh, sorry, dude." Kyle looked at the flag. "Dudette. Um…like, how does she talk?"

"It's a long story." He set the flag down on the ground. "Um, Natalie, you've been pretty quiet. Are you all right?"

She huffed. "Hm, I wonder. Would you be all right if you friends showboated you around like you were some inanimate object?"

"What—no! I don't think you're an inanimate object! If I thought you were an inanimate object, I wouldn't have introduced you! That's for crazy people who think stuffed animals and fine china are alive!"

"Oh, so now you're comparing me with stuffed animals and fine china, huh?"

"NO! WHY DOESN'T ANYONE UNDERSTAND!" The private stormed away towards the base.

Kyle stared at the flag. "That was, like, so mean."

Sal walked up. "What's so mean?"

"The flag totally hurt that other red guy's feelings."

"Oh, you mean the private."

"Ugh. Dude, let's keep it G-rated."

She sighed. "Moron. Okay, wait here. I'm going to go see the private."

"I told you, dude, keep it G-rated!"

Yeah. That was dumb. But here's the continuing story of the Blues…

Steve climbed down the ladder. Actually, he fell and knocked out all his shields, but there's pretty much no difference.

He glanced around. Cynthia and Tent stood in the corner, talking. He hurried over to them. "Okay, so, are we ready to move out?"

They turned to face him. Tent sighed. "I guess you didn't die, huh?"

"Nah. If I died, who would tell the bad jokes?"

They stared at him. He shook his head. "Well, I guess I can scratch 'comedian' off my list of careers."

"You got that right." Tent pulled out a piece of paper. "Okay, they said we could pick two operatives to go with us on this mission, so Rogers will get one spot…"

"Ah, can't we leave Rogers here?"

The captain shook his head. "No, we need him. Your petty hatred of other soldiers has to stop sometime. Moron."

"No, but if he comes, we have any room for Caboose and LaFonte."

"Caboose and…who?"

"My two teddy bears. I named them after my favorite Red vs. Blue characters." He took out two stuffed bears and hugged them. "Oh, I wuv you, my widdle teddy bears."

"Well, that's just disturbing." Tent looked at Cynthia. "Cynthia, the honors?"

"Fine." She whipped out her dual shotguns and blasted the teddy bears into stuffing. "That's that."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" He shrugged. "Ah well. I can get new ones."

"Okay, skipping the fact that I'm going to have nightmares until I die, let's get on with this." He wrote something down his with pencil. "Rogers is coming so…who gets the last spot?"

"Oh, let's give it to the Warthog!"

"We don't have a Warthog."

"If someone had just done as I said and asked Command for one, maybe we would have a Warthog."

"I find you far too sarcastic for a moron."

"You know me, just doing my job."

Captain Tent moved towards the door. "Okay, I'm going to go scout out the area and see if any Blues are nearby."

Steve tilted his head to the side. "Um, don't you mean you're going to see if any Reds are nearby?"

"No, Blues. We need the help."

"Sir, are you so sure that's such a good idea? I mean, last time you went scouting we got kidnapped and imprisoned and you almost died."

"But I didn't almost die."

"Well, in a perfect world…"

"Oh, shut up." He ran out into the snow. "Wake up Rogers for me!"

Cynthia sighed. "This stinks. Okay, are we going to get Rogers up now?"

"Let's not do it and say we did!"

She shrugged. "Alright. Fine by me."

So, will the private and the flag patch things up? Will Rogers ever be awoken from his deep sleep? Will Captain Tent get lost again? And why are these chapters so long? Tune in next chapter to find out!

Author's Note: Caboose and Tucker are not my favorite RvB characters. My favorite two are Caboose...and Griff.

"Why does the cake smell like baby oil?"