"I just had a great idea," said Antares to Sulejmanweed as everyone made their way towards the hangars. It was once again time to rip open a new one on the giant bird. "We should ask the terrorists if they know where we can find The Belkan Loud. Or if they have any weed."
"But why tho?"
Antares held up an empty plastic bag. "We smoked all of the Osean kush last night, bro. Remember?"
"What the fuck-" Sulejmanweed pinched the bridge of his nose. "Damnit, Antares! That shit's expensive!"
"It was mid as fuck, though," countered Antares, depressed. Behind him, the Razgriz nodded in solemn agreement.
Sulejmanweed sighed a big sigh of exasperation. "Fuck, man. Can't have shit in Osea."
And then a lightbulb popped into existence right above Antares's head. Well, it was more like the Razgriz was holding a lantern up behind him. "Bingo."
The brown-haired pilot raised an eyebrow. "What?"
The scorpion pilot gave Sulejmanweed a shit-eating grin. It was the look of a madman who had dreamed of an early fantasy; that if left to his own devices, would become true in the worst ways possible by his own hands.
"You're not thinking of-" Sulejmanweed paused- "Going to see them in person, are you?"
Antares continued to give his partner The Deranged Look™, even as they reached their hangar.
"Y-e-e-e-e-e-s-s-s?"
"Bruh." Look at this dude. Completely trustworthy. Shitty-ass ruddy hair in a crudely-made braid. Absolutely no mischief in those still-watery eyes from last night's blunt rotation. "You stupid."
Antares looked displeased. The Razgriz silently gave the man two middle fingers.
"...but because you're stupid, it's only fair that I come along with you to make sure this all goes smoothly and I get some financial compensation."
This makes the scorpion pilot smile.
Sulejmani stomped away to his aircraft with a huff. "I'm not looking out for your ass or anything, you weed-addled imbecile!"
[ Antares: LAUNCH. ]
One aggressive assault with the Wallachia new toy the Orgoi over the skies of New Bana City later, two jets raced across the skies as they followed the new terrorism UFO in hot pursuit. When questioned about the sudden absence of Antares One and Rigel One, Commander Blueford only had this to say:
"I don't give a shit anymore. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a divination session with the holy sparkiness of the microwave. I smell…pizza rolls in the near future."
So the two mercenaries flew past the Osean coast, only to find themselves…in open water? Was it really just flying over the open ocean? Yes. Yes it was. And then Antares had a bright idea.
"LEEROY JENKINS," He screeched over the broken mic. The hot pink F16 flew straight for the Orgoi's defenseless rear end, realizing it was big enough to land on.
"What the fu-" Sulejmanweed readied his master arms and chased his partner's tail. "You idiot! What if that thing's booby-trapped?!"
And boy was Sulejmanweed right: as soon as Antares breached the Orgoi's privacy bubble, a myriad of UAVs spawned from said rear end to defend the mother ship. Antares did a high G backflip and retreated backwards, keeping a safe distance from the swarm.
A new transmission broke through to both of them:
"Hey gamers, Camilla here. Today in multiplayer we'll be dealing with this cringe naenae baby in a Barbie jet and this loser in a Super Horny. Make sure to hit like and subscribe, and follow me on TurboFans if you haven't already!"
"Tell us where the Belkan Loud is," mumbled Sulejmanweed lamely.
"Oh. You guys are weed sniffers. That means you've got dough! Subscribe to my TurboFans, pretty please?"
"Hell no," said Antares. "We're gay, cuh. Tell us where it is and we'll call it a day."
The drone swarm grew aggressive and tensed up. "Sorry noobs, I only take donations, not requests!"
"Watch out Antares," cautioned the Razgriz with an unusual North Point accent. In another world, this would be known as Welsh. "That's her simp army. They have over 10,000 hours logged on League of Legends each."
"Dear god…wait how are YOU here? This is a single seater!"
"Shut up, you lame-ass mortal." The Razgriz retreated to the darkness once more. "And concentrate. Do you not wish to live?"
"No, actually. You see that swarm out there? I wanna die."
"No champion of mine will perish under the hands of an e-thot and her simps," insisted the Razgriz. "You must do, as they say, "some of that pilot shit" and survive."
Antares groaned and adjusted his seating. "Ugh."
Meanwhile, Sulejmanweed did his best to swerve through the myriad drones and their missiles and- oh shit are those lasers? Those are lasers. Firing from all over the place. The skies are now a nightclub. Lethal strobe lights everywhere. "This fucking SUCKS."
"Skill issue," crooned Camilla. "Who invited the rookie, LOL?"
Antares threw himself into the storm of drones, looking for a way through to the Orgoi. The transmission was getting janky, but…was that laughter? It sounded eerie among the eternal blare of missile alerts and the taunts from Camilla.
"̴̢̳̩͕͚̂͆H̴͙͙͔͑̽̑̎u̶̢̼͙̿̍̑ę̷̬͉̥̰̈́̀̀h̴͓̣̳̕͝͠u̴̢̨̡̩͛̽͜e̶̫͒̾̈́̎͒h̵̛͙̝̠̒͐̍ü̶̞͓͛̕ͅé̵̞̭̗̲̗̀͒̚h̸͙̙̮̀̅ū̶͉̥̣͕̫̾̈́͘e̵̙͈̗̲͐h̵̛̥͇̳̳̳͊̍û̷̗̣͙̎͝e̷͉̫̲̕h̷̭̑́͝͝û̶̱̰̽ę̴̗̬̳͔̓!̷̥̭̲͙̓̇̇"̴̧͖͓̇̇̎͜͠ͅ
"̷̤͒J̵̼̲͕͚̋ą̶̝͗͛j̷̫̅̍͝a̸̤̗̓j̵̤͍̹̒͜͠a̸̢̪͈̭͊̃̑j̶̝͂̕a̴̛̯̬̓͆ͅj̸̖͔͈̠̏̑̾ą̴̭́̚͝j̸̰̜̎̐͂̐â̴͖̟̤j̷̡̖̈̇́ḁ̵̖̗̽̍͌̎j̴͇̜̦̽̀ā̶̟j̸̭̮̾̀͋͘ą̸͉͈̫̄̾͘̕!̶̡̿̉̈́!̸̟̣̍̐͋͊ͅ!̷̢̰̏̓̒͘"̷̣̇͒̾͋
"̶̗̓̚͝K̸͔̹̰̀͆̓́é̷̖̭͝k̷̢̘͍̗͂̄ẉ̷̣̫͎̆͆͘!̸̱̋́̾"̸̢̻͈̪̂̌
"I'd say enjoy the killcam, but…poggers, I have worthy opponents this time! Our battle will be legendary!"
"̷̘̇Ÿ̴̟́A̵̦͐A̷͓̕S̴̋ͅ ̵̤́Q̸͈͘Ǘ̸͙Ē̶̖E̸̥̊N̷̢͌!̸͎͛"̶̮͑
He can't tell which one was Camilla and which ones were the simps. Guess he'll just have to blast through all of them indiscriminately. But oh, his missile count was dropping fast. Even if every missile hit, even if all his bullets tore through the metal simps, there were simply too many to eliminate alone.
"Antares!" Sulejmanweed groaned as he rocked his jet through a barrage of lasers. "How are we supposed to defeat Camilla von TurboFans here?!"
"You can't beat me, bro! I'm the strongest gamer in the world, and you're about to become just another statistic on live stream!"
"Shut up you whore!"
Wait. That's it!
"Sully, she's streaming! We have to make this as inappropriate as possible so the server regulators ban her!"
"How the hell are we supposed to do that?!"
Antares took a deep breath. The next thing to come out of his mouth would probably damn him to hell…if any of his previous crimes didn't secure him that privilege already.
"[REDACTED]"
Sulejmanweed tuned his radio. "What was that? Say it louder."
"[REDACTED]"
And it was like time had stopped. Even the drones ceased offensive movement, turning to face the one who dared utter the unspeakable word [REDACTED].
That one second of shock was all that Antares needed, and he dove straight for the Orgoi's backside runway.
"Y-you did not just say that! What gives you the RIGHT?! You don't even have a PASS for that word! How dare you! On live stream too!"
Antares, frankly, did not give a damn. He fired the last of his missiles and guns through the interior of the giant gray bird, turning the Orgoi into a makeshift airborne tunnel. He then proceeded to do a tunnel run, as he should.
"...did you just assume who I am, thot?"
[Vine boom sound effect]
"No, I...SHIT! I mean crap!"
The drones followed in hot pursuit of the degenerate hot pink-ass ride, stuffing themselves into the now-rapidly descending Orgoi.
"SULLY! NOW!"
"Gotcha! TAKE THIS!"
He fired everything left that could be offensive towards the flaming metal corpse falling from the sky. Explosion after explosion rocked the Orgoi as Sulejmanweed went Winchester. He fired those guns so hard the machinery was starting to partially melt from the recoil.
"Aww man," pouted Camilla, "Looks like it's game over…press start to replay. Oh! Still got some lives left! Poggers! Alright chat! See you all next game!"
It wasn't enough. Because of COURSE it wasn't enough.
A smaller but still formidable swarm of UAVs escaped the desecrated corpse of the mother ship, angrily conglomerating into some kind of formation.
F U C K
Y O U
"Well that wasn't very nice," retorted Sulejmanweed. "Talk about persistence. Your queen is gone! Get lost!"
The drones did not, in fact, get lost. Instead they began clogging the transmission stream with various screeching noises that would make one's ears bleed.
"Sully. Listen to me very closely. This is a super amazing Ace Trapstar technique my pops taught me back when he was still alive," urged Antares. "Follow my lead, alright?"
"What? You're Winchester too? Ugh, fine," answered Sulejmanweed, frustrated. "What's on your mind?"
"Take a look at those drones. They're all battered from you blasting them to kingdom come. And while we've seen better days, I don't think they're used to being this shitty."
"Hurry up man…"
"So I have decided! My ultimate technique! All or nothing!"
The drones broke formation, unsteady but visibly very pissed off.
"Hurry UP!"
Antares fired a teeny-tiny missile. He then hit the engines HARD. The jet rocketed away from the swarm, trailing a red-hot streak across the sky. "RUN FOR YOUR LIFE, SULLY! I JUST GAVE THEM SIX ZOLLARS!"
"OH COME ON!"
"YOU SET ME UP FOR THAT PREDICTABLE PIECE OF ADVICE?!"
"̴̧͚̬͖̩̜͕̣̭̓͂̓͂͂͊͗̀͜Ȃ̶̭̝̪͚͎̂͋̑̾̑͂̉̓̂̉̎̃Ã̵̯͖̘͉̅̑̀A̷̗̎̿̽̂̂̐͘̚͝A̶̡̭͔͖͖̫̜̤̯̱͙̎͌̄̂̀̈́̆̎͌͛͘͝Á̴͉͙̳̩͍̟̌̊A̸͚̭̩̍̃͗̓͒̂̑́͗̆̕͝A̴̛͕̜̘̘̖͚͊́́͐̾̅̈́͋̆͆͐͜͠ͅĄ̶͔̼̱͍̩̬̟̘̠̤͙̳̂̏͊̽͝ͅÄ̸̯͕̞̻̦́̓Ä̶̧̼̗̝̠̱̼͔́̐̑̔̋̑͐Ạ̶̡̛̟̙̞̈́́͛̾̾̾̑̐̏͋̀̎̽͝A̶͚̝̠͑̀͆̑͌̃Ȧ̵̧̰̼̲̹̜̻̙͓̠̱͎͐̎̂̽̈́̓A̷̙̻͘Ȧ̴̛͓̮̩̘͉̱̺͑̆̇̉̒͗̍́͜͝Ā̷̧̬̮̤̜̝̩̜̯̝̠̗̹͑͒͝A̴̧̩͎̭̞̞̤̙̞̖̯͉̬̿̒͂͌̐́̊̈́͜͝A̴̢̹̘̺͐̇͐́͐Â̵̛̩̱͕̖̦̟̌̀̅̕A̴̢̝͍͇͙̩̘̭̦͖̪̥̗̅͐͒͐̂̽̎̋͆̓̄͘͘͘͝Ȧ̶̧̜͇̦̩̺̺̼̃̾͊͊͐̇͑̈́̈͗̃̾̕͜Ą̸̻̳̖̬͕͓̙̮̰̠͛H̵̢͍̫̖̹̠̬̐̆Ḩ̴͕̜̺̖͙͆͒̽̿̽̑͜H̸̢̯̘̻̻̼͎̮͍̞̭̫̣͊̓̈̓̓̐́͒ͅḨ̸̱̭̪͓̲̪͔̞͎̥̫̟̽̋́̎͋̈́̈̌̊̈́͒̂̕H̶̛̭̞̞̝̋̔̐́̈̓̀̎̒̐̕͘͝Ḩ̵̡̝̯̩̲̬̼͇̖̠͍̟̖͑̒̈́͒̌͐̈̀͑͛̔͂̕͝͝H̶̛̯̞͈̺̰̤̗̫̪̾̅̄̓̈̈́̂̈́̇̕͘̚H̵̨͑͌̄̅͂̀͐͋̅̈̕͠͠H̸̝͍͉̬̻̏̒̔̋̂̑̚͜Ḫ̴̪͇̟̣̣̥̖̫̞̝͉̘̝̎̋̈̕̚͜͝Ḩ̷̣͈̞̖͕̪͕͉̖̪̫̉̿́͒̅̎̌̈̿͆͝Ḥ̵̂̆̀̅̽̀̑̋̈̀́͋͊H̴̢̼̱̟̞̯͐͐͛̏̊̉̊͝͝Ḩ̸̛̩̘̹͇͚̑͒̈́̓̂̂̉͋̃̌͠͝͝H̸̭̗̼̲͎͕͙̤͍̎̀̈́͘Ḩ̷̛̩̤̖̤̰̫̓̈́́̓̔͋͑̔̋͋̏͌͝H̸̨̨͇̳̩̪̟͎̖͉̦̫͚̱̍̿͝H̷̛̖̮̓͋̃̊̌̍̈͋͘̕Ḧ̸̤̯͔̣̹͇̟͍̥͎̯́͊͑̚H̶͚̩̥̻̝͈̱͇̺̟̊̈͑̒̀̀͊͘̚͜ͅḢ̵̛̦̳̙͊̐͋̚͘Ḩ̶̼͖̖̯̫͖̞̼̳͙̤̮̐̏͂̎́̾͊̈́̇̇͘Ḩ̶͚̯̙̲̩̘̩̹̯̠̠̭̂͊̄̀͛͐̐̿͂͆̆̚H̴͚̦͇͍̜͚̗̻̩̜̳̠̻̘̀̇͗̈́̎̌̄́͂͂̕ͅḪ̷̱̞̰̮̾͌̎̒͂̚̚͜ͅ!̴̨̫̖̤͎̳̯̥̟̤̲͓̮̲̮̌̈̋̈́̇͆͆̀͐̓̆̚̕!̷̡̫̘̦̱̮̾̆͆̾̄̕!̷͕̼̓̇̀̈́̍̈̾͐̅ͅ!̸̨̫̞̆́͝!̴̩͚̘̩̥̄́̈̽̐͊̇̽̏̕̚͜͝͝"̴̨̲̣̤̦̝͈̟͈̞͂̋́̓͛ͅ
On the ground of New Bana City, a couple of news reporters left the studio with exhausted faces. "Gosh, can't believe we got a lunch break and the weather is nice," murmured Janice.
"Yeah," agreed Angelica. "Wait, what's that in the sky?"
BOOM.
"I, am never," gasped Sulejmanweed when they landed in home base, "Going to listen to your STUPID ideas, ever, again!"
It was a great statement. Justified, really. After everything that happened this afternoon, it was understandable that Sulejmanweed felt this way.
Unfortunately, Antares was passed out in the smoking cockpit.
"Both of you," seethed a rapidly approaching Commander Blueford, "Solitary. NOW."
"The hell? This ain't a penal unit!"
Commander Blueford grabbed them both by the neck. "With that stunt you both pulled, I am single-handedly making this one! NOW GET IN THE CLOSET AND REFLECT UPON YOUR BEHAVIOR."
(A package came for them later. It wasn't a pipe bomb or anything.)
Dear pesky mercenaries,
Mollyvieri Life Insurance would like to thank you for increasing our stonks with the heresies you committed against the alien terrorist group this week. Enclosed are 10 milligrams of the finest marijuana this side of Osea. Have a nice day.
Today's victory: "At least we got weed…"
RIP 6 Zollars
(and most tragically, no one ate Oreos that night.)
[a/n]: it's like the more I write the worse it gets