I'm glad people like the story.

Nothing happens in this chapter besides Jackie wallowing in self pity and drinking his worries away. He also meets the RED team. Vale Decem!

Meatloaf (the food, not the singer)

This place was going to kill me. At first, I feared that one of them, mainly the Soldier, would destroy me in a horrendous fit of unprovoked rage. But as I soon learned, it wouldn't be one of the mercs that will be the end of my demise, it'd be the diet. A repugnant dish they called "Meatloaf" was a staple of what they eat at RED base. I knew Meatloaf was a singer my parents liked when they were younger, but I never had sampled the real thing, and now I defiantly never will.

There were 3 people missing from the table; The Medic, the Spy and the Pyro. I knew why Medic wasn't present; I knew that he hated my guts for some reason. The minute I stepped into the room, his deathly glare spoke words that hate couldn't even define. He looked like I personally de-flowered all his daughters and framed his wife for manslaughter before burning a hospital down. I reminded myself to stay away from this madman.

The Spy, he's probably sneaking around, you could never really know with him. He was my most third most played class so I naturally wanted to him to stay, but the second I looked away, he mysteriously disappeared.

The Pyro is obvious; he's in his room eating. I doubt he'd ever take of his mask in front of the others, but I noticed he's a lot shyer then I thought he'd be. From I've seen from the taunts, he's a confident, self-assured warrior of fire. But from my observations, he was like an outsider who doesn't bond with his team. Unless he, like the Medic, doesn't like me either and would rather avoid me then sit at the same table.

Or her... I rather not think about it, I never play the Pyro class anyway.

Meeting the team was as exactly awkward and frightening as I thought it would be and more. All eyes, all the eyes of the TF2 RED team where drawn on me. From the death glares, to the mildly, curious, concerned, I did not appreciate the attention. I felt exposed and naked although I was informally dressed in my night clothes with no shoes. I was worse than an intruder; it was their faces judging me... their faces, drawn in distrust, fear and interest.

Their living area was massive; like in the game, it was barnlike and wood like the courtyard in front of the respawn room. There was heaps of bright yellow hay bunched up in random places, cobwebs stuck around the ceiling comically. It reminded me of the decorations by someone who never watched a western. I almost expected the band from Heehaw to leap out... was Heehaw a western?

It was a well lived-in area, beer bottles, stains on the couch, scorch marks, bullet indents- bullet holes? What in blazes are they doing in here? Large plastic leafy plants in red ceramic pots littered the room among various types of mismatched armchairs, couches, chairs and a massive table thrown about the room like a maze. Everyone was seated in one of these, Soldier pouting, sitting up straight, Scout practically lying across a bench, Sniper and Demoman slouching on a flower-printed sofa in front of a retro looking black and white tele.

Oh my goodness, Demoman looked terrible, he wasn't swearing or yelling or saying taunts, he appeared like he was going to die. I thought I look bad in the morning, but the poor Demoman. His remaining eye was bloodshot ruby red and his complexion was pale looking compared to Sniper, who was still wearing his glasses inside. The Demomans appearance disturbed me; my fantasy of a new drinking buddy dissipated. The rest however, besides the Soldier and Medic, were hard to read on their opinions of me with their unreceptive gazes.

But I couldn't really see, for I was still frozen at the door frame with Engineer as he called for their attention.

"Sit down and relax Jack."

I sat rigidly in the closet seat possible to me, which was a lumpy coca-cola brown sofa, which thankfully also didn't have anyone sitting in. I could sense their eyes watching my every move like vultures at the Mad Hatter's Tea Party. Engineer began introductions, going person to person around the room. I nodded, giving a tiny smile as he stated the names of the team.

Heh...oh yes, I should really pay attention, I don't want to mix up their names.

"Tell em' what you told me." He encouraged, he sat in a wood chair near me.

It was my time to shine, I clasped my hands on my lap, stared straight ahead and told them my story.

None of them spoke, which annoyed me. I knew they didn't talk in domination lines all day, but I wanted to hear them anyway. And if what Engineer said about me staying here, I'd have to wait till a battle to hear them. Will they let me stay long enough to watch them fight?

They wanted to hear my side so of course, I explained about being at home, sitting quietly, minding my own business, not doing any anything but reading, when my home shattered around me as I was being sucked down a time vortex that happened to be the circumrance of a tin can.

I expected questions, but I didn't think they'd be shouted out in a close proximity to my ear. Soldier seemed devoted to weasel out a confession out of me, which I probably would have done if I wasn't so busy being deaf. To my surprise, it was the Demoman who came to my aid. I kept my eyes to the dirty floor, which was covered in track dirt, bent nails, bullet casings and crumbs of potato chips as the Demoman and the Soldier continued in a rebuke-like shout off.

I felt glad to have Demoman as another ally here. Perhaps he and I will be good drinking partners after all after he detoxed himself and had a good night's rest.

The others however, I could tell if they approved me being here. I didn't care if they don't like me, it's not like I decided to march into a video game to stay the weekend like a disliked family member. I came here by accident, I couldn't help it. But I did want to survive my duration here and hopefully with friends then with enemies.

After Soldier calmed after his little tirade, Heavy suggested that we should "Feed the mouth and not the fire."

A meal did sound better than sitting in the middle of what felt like a brutal interrogation.

So here I was, sitting in their kitchen (They have a KITCHEN!), wedged between the Demoman and the Scout, with a full plate in front of me. The kitchen was like any normal kitchen, problem was it was as dirty as if an entire dorm toddled in and used it moments before...Even my kitchen was cleaner then this place! I wouldn't dare stand in this hole without a hazmat suit, let alone cook in here. I shook those thoughts out of my head; I'm a guest here and must be polite, I'll clean while they all sleep. Besides, maybe they make great meals here if they use the kitchen a lot.

I was wrong...they have THIS on their menu.

I remember earlier, when I was so excited to be here, I couldn't keep still. Now, I feel so alien to my surroundings, so out of place and shy, and an overused word I've been using; awkward.

I also remember when I was telling myself I was so hungry, I'd eat anything if it looked like food...fortunately for me, the contents of the plate in front of me didn't even resemble anything edible, but a lumpy piece of rotted meat someone left on the train tracks for several hours before being steamrolled by a train. I wouldn't even call it meat; it looked like brown mush, flattened into a square shape and blasted to death by a rusty flamethrower. It was swimming of what I first thought was a tasty sauce, but was horrified to discouver, was really the death juices from its still- Oh god, from it's still raw middle.

I suppressed a gag by transforming it into a coughing fit.

As a vegetarian for the last 6 years, the faint stench of meat would make me throw up. It was probably a good thing I haven't ate since breakfast, or else the entire floor would have been decorated in my vomit. I stared at the plate in front of me. I was hungry, but my spoiled way of life allowed only the consumption of healthy foods. I glanced up at everyone, expecting them to be as well disgusted, to push their plates away and demand something better.

I was mistaken; everyone was either stuffing their mouths with the mud-muck or swallowing it whole while chatting lively with one another. Did they really eat this stuff? Scout was the worst, he was shovelling as much as he could down into his mouth; his entire lower face was covered in meat like a demented beard. The man was practically slurping it.

I must have been eating too much with females. Like Kate for example, she takes even, little bites contrast to her gorging herself with food. Kate would also never eat whatever mystery meat this is and she isn't even a vegetarian! Even my friends would never eat like this or this filth. Where were the sandviches? Shouldn't there be a whole damn fridge devoted to beer and edible devices? Perhaps Heavy was hording them all... where was his Sasha anyway?

It was intently embarrassing for me, surrounded by meat-eating assassins, being the only one not eating. I'd take a spoonful of the mystery meat, but let the spoon drop as soon as I started to move it away from the plate. I wouldn't feel this way if I was consuming good food.

I will have to explain to them I was a vegetarian... I can stay here not eating; they will have to adapt their lives to fit mine. I hope they understand my choice and don't judge me... Will they think I'm a hippy?

I don't mind being labelled as one, nothing wrong in my opinion, unfortunately I knew for sure the view the Soldier had of hippies. But I wasn't sure of the others. Whatever it was I wasn't going to take that chance, I am going to lie.

They discouvered me.

"What's up?"

"I can't eat this" my voice shuddered; this was going to be harder than I thought.

I could hear Soldier's voice before he shouted across the table.

"This is RED issued rations! You'll eat it and LIKE it!"

"You not built for war. You need to grow big or you won't last long" Heavy stated.

His voice sounded so odd, I was so used to him shouting everything. This must be his non-battle voice and demeanour; Calm, authoritive and cool.

"He's not fighting for he's not part of our team." Reminded Soldier, large drops of the pink juice lingered on the very edge of his massive jaw.

"C'mon pal, even Spy eats it." Interjected Scout, his mouth completely full.

Spy wasn't here. I frowned and my eyes narrowed. It was time to exploit their assumptions of being from the future, even at the risk of being seen as insane. I wasn't going to eat this, and I wasn't going to let them guilt me into eating it. Leaning back into my chair to prove I'm defiant, I pretended to know what I was saying.

"Sorry, I have a rare genetic disorder that stops me from eating any sort of meat whatsoever."

People stopped eating.

"Eh?"

I explained quickly, "It's a future thing. 80% of people have it, it's so common. Everyone is fine with it."

Soldier head snapped up once again, his angry disposition changed to a frantic looking one.

"Is it contagious?"

"We should get Medic to look at him again, maybe he could cure it."

"I- I don't know about that. I mean, we've so advanced in the medical field we would have found something by now."

I was so lucky Medic decided to go hungry; I had no clue of what I was saying. He'd shoot down any medical lingo and would expose my lie. I thought my plan had worked, and it did in a way... but their horrified faces of the dawn of the bleak future made it clear of their fear. I wondered if I've done the right thing with the lying. Engineer took his spoon and took a large scoop of my untouched dinner to drop it on his own with a loud sloppy noise.

"Ya don't have to eat it. It's just we don't have much of anything else."

"I'm not hungry anyway." My sensitive gut knotted like a punching fist.

I didn't know what was worse, not eating when there was food in front of me, or rejecting my food and being the only person at the table without anything. Will this day ever end without me feeling like an ass? The chatter begun up again, something about assessing the basement and turning it into a trap pit.

I wasn't listening. Things like trap pits and murder don't apply in my world, for this one is not my home. I wish I was sitting next to Engineer, he'd talk to me.

Everyone was finishing up, eating up every little bit of the deathloaf, taking swings from their beer bottles... no one offered me one.

"What do you do in society son?" Soldier asked causally, he rolled a fat, unlit cigar in his fingers.

I stared at the rolling cigar, I was definitely shocked to hear him so relaxed, just moments before he looked like he was going to rip my head off and stuff it with meatloaf.

"I'm a business man." Trying to force the fear out of me voice, I thought this was a good response.

"What SORT of business?"

Ohhhh fuck, there were hints of the anger again. Think!

"Oh, I'm a co-manager at a fancy government work-titled place."

Engineer was stacking plates along with the Heavy; he looked up and gave a confused frown.

"Doncha work at a... health food place was it?"

The table, which was fairly quiet save the few conversations erupted in laughter.

"Heh, no wonder you can't stomach REAL food! They've got you brainwashed with rabbit food-stuffs!"

It was my turn to frown. This must be the 'badgering' Engineer spoke of. I don't like being made fun of, but in this turn of events, it'd be wise not to create a fuss. So, suppressing my annoyance, I pouted.

"It's a blood disorder, I can't help that. And I can't say I'm all that healthy."

I stopped at that. I'm not going to run my mouth and talk back about all the substances I've had back at home. Perhaps save the smokes... ones that looked like the Sniper's that were being removed from his breast pocket.

I instantly noticed that Sniper, Soldier and Demoman all leaned back into their seats and were all lighting up. I stared flabbergasted; Engineer did not keep his promise to provide me nicotine. I swallowed a gulp of spit and air; a good cig would definitely help.

I wondered if I should ask, before the Demoman swung a huge hand onto my shoulder. His health improved in the half hour that was reserved for mealtime, perhaps all the man needed was protein. His broad smile spoke more in actions in words as he produced a familiar item; a large, lovely, brown bottle.

"If yer not gunna eat, hows aboot a drink then laddie?"

Alcohol? I pushed my plate away. My whimsical fantasy of drinking with the RED team ignited with gusto.

"Oh yes please, you have no idea how bad I need a pint."

Demoman uncorked the bottle, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Ever tri'd Scrumpae?"

I held out my hand, fingers tingling, thinking I was hiding my delight pretty well.

"Hand it over, I need a taste"

Scout took out a beer case from out of nowhere; a disgusted scowl grew on his face. Oh, NOW he was repulsed, where was that face while we were eating?

"Aw, god, you don't expect him to drink it do you?"

"You're not having any?" I asked.

"Hell no, I'm sticking to beer. Scrumpy-"

Scout shuddered, and went back towards the fridge.

"That's not wise Jack, I've seen what Scrump-."

Engineer was cut off when I chose to ignore, I did not fear the drink; I was the beer baron of Regis Pub! A title I wore with pride, bragging to anyone who would listen. That actually won me a few dates. I can handle my liquor, but with consequence, I'd still get a hangover just like everyone else. Nonetheless, I doubt any of these characters would care about my unofficial name from home, Soldier made that blatantly clear.

"Firewater is for true warriors! And Soldiers! And Veterans! The pure essence of Scrumpy will burn his tender mouth."

More laughter filled the noxious fumes of the table. My scowl extended, The Soldier was not making a friend out of me. I still kept my mouth shut.

Demoman laughed. "Aw, yer right, I shouldn't. I betcha he's a half-pint anyway."

No. No, nothing was going to take my alcohol away from me, I will make sure of that.

"That's not fair. Besides, I want to try, it's not everyday I get a real drink from a black Scottish Cyclops."

My charm and wit will win their hearts.

"There, cee, the boy knows whats he sayin'. Don't you lad?"

He handed me a tall clear glass of a brown liquid. Everyone's eyes were on me again. This time, I didn't mind, this was drinking; I'm in a comfort zone where I can be me and all women in the area were drop dead gorgeous. I fondly accepted the glass, it wasn't washed properly. I ogled at the caramel-gold fluid, despite its lovely colour, had a foul stench. My nose twitched repulsively.

"There you goo, drink up."

It was only a half-quarter full, so, repressing my gag reflex, I forced myself to drink it in one gulp. I anciptated the burning feeling of the smooth, coolish-hot liquid being swallowed down my throat followed by an involuntary shudder. But what I didn't except was the scorching, ecstasy sensation that made my eyes water as my body constricted fiercely within itself.

I gasped in both shock and pain.

I felt like a 10 year old again, when you had your first sip of your mothers wine at a party. It tasted repulsive and disgusting and made you wonder why anyone would drink this sour concoction. You'd wonder this until you'd get older and your taste buds decide they love the taste of all alcoholic beverages and demand more. You'd spend any opportunity to drink whatever was left in every glass until you fell asleep while doing it or your father caught you. I felt this all within 3 seconds. It was amazing.

"This is bloody brilliant stuff."

"Well, at least he drank the whole first shot." Sniper quipped; he too took a quick swing of the liquid. Only he, Soldier and the Demoman were sipping on the potent cocktail, I felt honoured in a non-privileged way.

Another thing that separates Scrumpy from normal alcoholic drinks was usually after drinking a glass, you begin to feel the effects of the brew work it's strange magic. Not Scrumpy, I didn't feel anything despite it smelling and tasting so strong. But after 4 shots, everything was a constant blur of distant colour, adventure and excitement.

The trick is, to take a drink as fast as possible; you'd still get the feeling of elevation, without the burning. I was no prude, I didn't avoid the other drinks provided; I sampled every sip of alcohol they brought out.

Soon, the memories of how I got here, and where I was, was long gone, every movement I and everyone took felt like an effort. Everything I did and what the others said seemed hilarious; I was in a video game, and it was alright. I no longer felt like an intruder. I felt like I was back at home with my goonish friends, laughing and joking and laughing. I talked among them, telling them over the top depictions of my day to day routines, it was just like home.

"You see back home at me dad's place, there was this large andbandont milk factory, smack middle in a field. Me and the mates useta gather there to scare the girls, tellin' them there was a slimey ghost."

"Ghosts?"

"God, DON'T joke about ghosts. Them freaks are real."

"Really? Like that ghost at Harvest? He's real? Neato! You should introduce me!"

"Introduce- that sick fuck shoved a dead rat into mah ear!"

"No cussing."

"I do not like Ghosts."

Hours blended into minutes

"Engineer, instead of finding a way for Jack to go back, we should all go back in time for vacation!" suggested Scout, his movements becoming more and more sluggish.

"That isn't practical. Besides, it only takes objects from time and brings 'em here. Not the other way around."

"Ve go to time of Knights!"

"Hell ya!"

"Or to the sun filled mountains of ancient Sparta!" declared Soldier

"Yea, I don't wan to go home. I wan to wander in the age of Dinosaurs! Giant Reptileses." I said loudly.

Engineer finished his drink and gave a solid, "Nope."

"Oh you're no fun, Engie." Demoman slurred.

"I'm not saying it's a bad idea. In fact, it's a great incentive for an action packed adventure*; but it'd never happen. Besides, who knows what could go wrong with disruption of the timeline. Sorry fellas."

We were all disappointed.

Evently, Scout and Soldier mysteriously disappeared from the table. Soon, Sniper also made his exit, slightly stumbling away, using his hand to brace himself as he slowly made his way down the dark hallway. Damn that man has long legs.

"Heh, wonder if we oughta help him? He's pitched drunk." I laughed; my movements were heavy and hard to control.

"You're drunk kid."

"I'm not. Let's be normal. I am not drunk."

"You are."

"Hoavy had just as much as I did. He's not drunk."

"Heavy can handle his liquor."

"Born and raised on papa's finest." Heavy said with pride.

I waved him off.

"Pah, I can drink annie-one under the tabble."

"I would not advise that, you'd lose." Heavy stated matter of factly.

"Bugger that, I'm the best drinker at Regisises. Regises-Regis!"

Heavy's eyes narrowed in smugness, with a horrible grin, he accepted my challenge with 3 words.

"Then we drink."

He extended his long arm- why are all limps so exaggerated? - and poured a clear fluid into my again empty glass. I thought I saw Engineer shake his head, but many things were happening at once so I couldn't really see.

I took the shot in a quick flash. It was a bit milder then the Scrumpy, but still produced a shudder. Jesus, this was strong stuff. The room spun slightly, I noticed how red everything was here.

"...why is everything red here?"

The ceiling moved in front of me. I felt an odd, forceful, pounding, sensation against my back along with a loud crash. I think I fell down, why is the room spinning?

I burst into obnoxious laughter. I must look like an idiot, falling out of my chair, only I; the beer baron can get away with this. I found that I couldn't sit up, so i continued laying there, laughing about something else.

"We lock him back into closest?"

"Nah, he's not going anywhere."

"Not sure about zhis."

A cheerful laugh filled the air,

"I'll haveta git out the whiskey tomorrow nigh'"

I shut my eyes. Moments later I was sleeping.

*In case you don't read other TF2 fanfic for some reason, I suggest Team Fortress 2: the Trouble with Time Travel. It's a fantastic read if you're into science fiction/comedy like I am.

Go!